XXI
Mr. Bryan declines the kindly offices of The Hague—More Americans leave Mexico City—Lieutenant Rowan arrives—Guarding the Embassy—Elim keeps within call.
Washington will not take The Hague into consideration, and will not fire simultaneous salutes, which, of course, it would be childish for us to do, so the question is narrowed down to one point:—the Mexicans must salute our flag, and we engage ourselves to answer it. Many precedents for this are being cited by foreigners here. For instance, the celebrated case of the French consul in San Francisco, who was jailed for a few hours through a mistake. We made all reparation and engaged ourselves to fire twenty-one salutes to the first French ship that came into the harbor. Kanya tells me of an incident that transpired when he waschargé d’affairesat Cettinje, that was regulated by an exchange of salutes between the contending parties, in Antivari harbor.
I have had calls all afternoon—German, Belgian, Austrian, and Italian colleagues, Marie Simon, de Soto (looking more like a handsome contemporary of Velasquez than ever)—all, of course, talking aboutla situación. Now I am waiting dinner for Nelson, who has been out since four o’clock, trying to communicate the very courteous, but firm, answer of Washington cited above.
N. came in for dinner as the Burnsides, d’Antin, and McKenna were sitting with me at table. One of the numerous telephone calls proved to be from the Minister for Foreign Affairs, saying that he was leaving the Ministerio, and would be immediately at the Embassy. I had cognac and cigarettes placed in the drawing-room, and then everybody got out of the way. They are both in there now—9.45—and the fate of Mexico hangs in the balance, in that pleasant, high-ceilingedsalonof mine, with the big vases of long-stemmed pink geraniums, and books, and photographs, and bibelots, and its deep, comfortable green leather chairs and sofa. I am writing this in one of the smaller rooms, with newspaper men running in and out, and the telephone ringing. To the journalistic demands Nelson has told the clerks to say “there is no change,” which, in spite of my excitement, or perhaps because of it, reminds me of the story recounted of a Russian Ambassador to London. His wife had the bad taste to die at the time of the great visit of the Czar to Queen Victoria. The Ambassador, who was above everything a diplomat, had the body put on ice in the cellar of the Embassy, and to all inquiries as to his wife’s health he replied, suavely: “Thank you; madame is in the same condition.”
Back in the drawing-room, with the historic cognac, the equally historic cigarette ash, and the drawn-up chairs as mute witnesses that something has taken place. What will come of it all? Rocking the ship of state is an exciting business. I don’t understand Huerta’s attitude, unless he is whipped by the rebels, andknowsit, and prefers defeat at the hands of a nobler foe.
Portillo y Rojas said the President felt that he had done all that he was called on to do as chief of the nation toexpiate the Tampico incidents; that the sailors were put at liberty immediately, with an apology given by thejefe de la plaza—General Moreles Zaragoza—to Admiral Mayo; that since then the President himself had manifested regret and had ordered an investigation to punish the guilty party; that any nation in the world would have been satisfied by these proceedings, and that furthermore he agreed that the Mexican cannon might salute simultaneously with those of the Americans, which would fully show the good-will on both sides, and also let the neighboring peoples witness the happy termination of a difficulty that had never been serious. There is a Spanish proverb about having more fins than a fish, which certainly applies to this sauve and clever old Indian. He further sent expressions of great friendship for Nelson by the Minister, but said hecouldn’tdo this thing even for him, much as he desired to.
A moment ago a little blond-headed, blue-robed, sleepy angel appeared on the scene to ask when I was coming up-stairs. Perhaps, like the rest of us, Elim feels the disturbing electric currents in the air. He is now lying on the sofa, wrestling with sleep. He had been put to bed some hours before, rather unhappily. He kept pressing close to my dressing-table as I was getting ready for dinner, fingered every article on it, and asked me countless questions. These ranged from, “What does God eat?” to, “Why don’t women wear suspenders?” until I was frantic and had him removed in tears.
There are fears that the Zapatistas will arrive in the city; but they are nothing compared to other fears that stalk the town to-night. During the French intervention many people remained in Mexico City, reached a ripe old age, and died in their beds; which every one seems anxious to do, though I have never feltthat dying in one’s bed is all it is cracked up to be. “Bury me where I fall. Everywhere will be heard the judgment call.” I don’t much care when or where or how it comes.
No news as yet from Washington. I have just returned after lunching at the Russian minister’s. Everything was verysoigné, as it always is, withblinisand delicious caviar and all sorts of good things. I feel as if I had eaten the Legation instead of at it. One has so little appetite at eight thousand feet above sea-level. There were von Hintze, Kanya, Marie Simon, in one of her smart Drecoll dresses, and myself. They all think the situation in the south is very bad, but I am no more to be scared by the cry of Zapatistas, having heard it ever since I first put foot in Mexico.
TheMexican Heraldremarks this morning (dealing with the situation in glittering generalities) that “When each party to an agreement gets the idea that the other side is going to back down, it is certainly trying to the patience of anIrishpeacemaker.”
One of the great dust-storms of the end of the dry season is on us to-day; all the color is gone out of the air, which has become opaque, gritty, non-refracting.
Callers all the afternoon. Now McKenna comes in to say that the final word,en clair, from Washington has been received. It was given out at the White House at noon. “General Huerta is still insisting upon doing something less than has been demanded, and something less than could constitute an acknowledgment that his representatives were entirely in the wrong in the indignities they have put upon the United States. The President has determined that if General Huerta hasnot yielded by six o’clock on Sunday afternoon, he will take the matter to Congress on Monday.”
...
It makes me sick with dread to think of the probable fate of Americans in the desert spaces and the mountain fastnesses of Mexico. Some one has blundered, somewhere, somehow, thatweshould come in to give thecoup de grâceto this distracted nation, who yet clings, and rightly, to those tattered shreds of sovereignty we have left her. The foreign Powers think we are playing the most cold-blooded, most cruel game of “grab” in all history.
Thingsdomove. I came down from Aunt Laura’s room to find Lieutenant Rowan in the hall, just off the train from Vera Cruz, after a delayed, dusty trip. You can imagine he got a warm welcome. Nelson came in just then, and a few minutes later, as we were still standing in the front hall, Portillo y Rojas appeared at the door, looking, we instantly thought, much happier. He was wearing his green, gold-embroidered sash, the insignia of military rank that Huerta has imposed rather than bestowed on all Cabinet officers, who are thus under military discipline and obedience to him asgeneralissimo. They objected to wearing full military uniform, compromising on the sash. Rojas also wore a smile—I don’t know whether it was for me or for the situation. He had come to tell Nelson that the salutes would be given on his, N.’s, written word of honor that they would be returned. He has been an hour and a half in Nelson’s private room drawing up a document—a protocol (il y va de sa propre tête)—and he is doing it with the painstaking care of a man who has everything at stake. Nelson himself is pretty foxy, and has to look out forhisskin. Well, “all’s well that ends well.” If we get through this thenext incidentwillmean war. I hope at Washington they will appreciate some of the difficulties N. has to meet, and act accordingly. However, “call no man happy until his death.” I hear the click of the big iron gate swinging to after the exit of Lopez Portillo y Rojas.
I am fairly tired out and shall now proceed to draw the drapery of my couch about me and lie down—I hope to pleasanter dreams than those of last night. How glad I am that I haven’t confided my son or my jewels to various terror-stricken acquaintances who have levanted two hundred and fifty mileseastand eight thousand feet down. It hasn’t come yet; all, after everything is said and done, hangs on the life of that astute and patient old Cori Indian, whose years of our Lord are fifty-nine, and who, whatever his sins, were they blacker than night, is legally President of Mexico. Chase legality out of Latin America and where are you? After him anarchy, chaos, and finally intervention—the biggest police job ever undertaken in the Western Hemisphere, however one may feel like belittling it from a military standpoint. I have thought all these days of the probable head-lines of the newspapers and hoped my precious mother was not worrying about her distant ones. Good night, and then again good night. “God’s in His heaven; all’s well withus.”
The last of the continuous line of plenipotentiaries,chargés d’affaires, railroad men, laymen of all kinds, have gone. Washington refused Nelson’s signature to the protocol drawn up by Portillo y Rojas and sent for approval. Huerta then refused categorically to give the salutes. So it is intervention. At 4.30 I went down-stairs for tea, as usual, to find Adatchi and Eyguesparsse there. Eyguesparsse, as you know, married the sister of General Rincon Gaillardo. He says that Huertawill resist to the end; hisesprit militaireis entirely opposed to theesprit universitaireof Wilson. “Ils ne pourront jamais se comprendre.” Huerta said to Rincon Gaillardo that intervention would be a work of five years, and productive of the greatest trouble to the United States. Huerta’s stand isincroyable,unglaublichunbelievable,incredibile—what you will. Each representative who called exclaimed the same thing in his special tongue as he greeted me. Hohler was very quiet, and really very sad at the happenings. He has been a faithful friend through everything. Sir Lionel gets here to-morrow or the next day. Kanya, Letellier, and Clarence Hay stayed for dinner. Hohler came back again in the evening, also von Hintze, who does not think the war vote will go with a rush through Congress to-morrow, and quotes the case of Polk. He said it took three months for him to persuade Congress to vote the money and men for the 1846 war. I can’t verify this. He and von Papen left at eleven. Nelson, Rowan, and I came up-stairs, all a bit fagged. To-morrow will be a full day. I long ago promised the American women here that if and when I thought the break was impending I would let them know. I think it has steadied their situation here that I haven’t “lit out” from time to time. But what of the hundreds—no, thousands—all over this fair land whose possible fate is scarcely to be looked in the face? The “Old Man” has some idea other than despair and fatigue or impatience. He is working on a plan, probably hoping for a chance to play his trump card—the unification of all Mexicans to repel the invaders,—which would take the trick anywhere but in Mexico. We are going to get some moregendarmesfor the Embassy. I feel very calm and deeply interested. It is a big moment, and Nelson has been unremitting in his endeavors.
The Foreign Office here has given the press a statement of two thousand words to-night, which will bring forth dismay and horror in the morning. I can’t feel the personal danger of the situation. I am sorry dear Dr. Ryan is away. I sent him yesterday, in care of the consul at Saltillo, the prearranged word, “101,” which meant that, whenever, wherever, he got it, he was to return immediately. At last hearing, the more prudent von Papen, who decided to return to Mexico City, saw him start from Saltillo with his medical supplies and four mules, to try to get to Torreon over a desert stretch.
Von Papen, who had a most uncertain trip, says the only way to prevent the continual destruction of the railways is the establishment of the blockhouse system now planned by the Federal government.
I can’t sleep. National and personal potentialities are surging through my brain. Three stalwart railroad men came to the Embassy this evening. They brought reports of a plan for the massacre of Americans in the street to-night, but, strange and wonderful thing, a heavy rain is falling. It is my only experience of a midnight rain in Mexico, except that which fell upon the mobs crying “Death to Diaz,” nearly three years ago. As all Mexicans hate to get wet, rain is as potent as shell-fire in clearing the streets, and I don’t think there will be any trouble. Providence seems to keep an occasional unnatural shower on hand for Mexican crises.
N.’s secret-service man reappeared upon the scene yesterday, probably by the President’s orders. This works two ways. It protects N., and incidentally proves to Huerta that N. is not intriguing againsthim.
Had this war been induced by a great incident or for a great principle, I could bear it. But because the details of a salute could not be decided upon we give ourselves,and inflict on others, the horrors of war. Mr. Bryan, so theHeraldplayfully remarks to-day, must have been surprised and disappointed. The “salutes were always so cheerfully returned at Chautauqua.” It is no situation for amateurs. The longer I live the more respect I have for technical training. Every Foreign Office in Europe or any other continent keeps experts for just such cases. I may become an interventionist, butafterHuerta. He has proved himself vastly superior, in executive ability, to any man Mexico has produced since Diaz, in spite of his lack of balance and his surprising childishness, following upon strange subtleties, and he would have sold his soul to please the United States to the point of recognition. In that small, soft hand (doubtless bloody, too) were possibilities of a renewal of prosperity, after the dreams of Madero that he himself could never have clothed in reality. The reassociation of the government with the conservative elements might have given some guarantee of peace, at least during Huerta’s life, and any man’s life is a long time in an Indian or Latin republic.
We have awakened to a busy morning. At seven o’clock I began to telephone all those women. If anything happens, American women here will be thankful to be out of the way, and if the clouds blow over, they will only have done what they have done before, on several occasions—taken an unnecessary trip to Vera Cruz. Every American in town has either appeared at the Embassy or telephoned. Rowan remains with us, I hope. N. has telegraphed Admiral Fletcher that in view of the fact that he is alone with me at the Embassy, he begs not to have Rowan recalled. He is a dear fellow, and a great comfort and support. Anything his courage and goodsense can keep from happening to us will not happen. A cable saying the matter will be laid before Congress this afternoon, instead of this morning, is just received. It gives us a breathing-space. But the telephone! The newspaper men! The frightened Americans! If we are obliged to go, Aunt Laura will stay with Mrs. Melick, that friend of hers who has a handsome house just across the way. This relieves both her and me from anxiety. Americans are leaving in hosts—about five hundred persons, of all nationalities, leave to-day.
I have just found on my table an envelope, “From Elim to Mamma.” A drawing inside represents a tombstone, and a star shines above it. It has a little bunch of fresh heliotrope fastened to it with a clipper, and the back is decorated with three crosses—a bit startling in these potential days! My heart is sick. Wednesday that great fleet arrives. What is it going to fight? It can’t bombard Vera Cruz. The streets are full and the houses overflowing with fleeing non-combatants. It can’t climb the mountains and protect the countless Americans getting their living in the fastnesses or in the valleys. Huerta’s army is engaged in the death-struggle, in the north, against enemies of the government, armed with our munitions. Oh, the pity of it!
And this city, this beautiful city, placed so wonderfully, so symmetrically, on the globe, in the very center of the Western Hemisphere, a great continent to north and south, half-way between immense oceans, and lifted nearly eight thousand feet up to the heavens! Strange, symbolic correspondences between the seen and the unseen constantly make themselves sensible, in some unexplainable, magic way, while to the eye there are the manifold abundancies of mother earth, and this queer, dark, unchanging, and unchangeable race, whose psychological formula is unknown to us, inhabiting and using it all.
This afternoon a whirlwind of rumors. First, that Congress had voted full power to Mr. Wilson, and one hundred and fifty million dollars; that Vera Cruz was being bombarded; that an attack is being planned against the Embassy to-night. There is, doubtless, nothing in this last, but N. telephoned to Eduardo Iturbide, always to be counted on, who is sending us one hundred mountedgendarmes. Captain Burnside is coming over here to sleep, and Rowan is with us, besides secret-service men and our owngendarmes. We have machine-guns, rifles, and quantities of ammunition. Many people were in for tea, when I am always to be seen. Madame Simon expects to leave to-night for Vera Cruz, with her little boy and two maids. Clarence Hay and the Tozzers are going, too, and about one hundred Germans. Von Hintze has sent away as many men, women, and children as he could induce to go.
I had a curious experience with Adatchi. Suddenly, as he was sitting on the sofa, drinking his tea, von Papen and Ayguesparsse also in the room, I had a queer psychic impression that he was not speaking of what he was thinking. I thought no more of it until he came over to a chair near me and said, with a curious, Oriental smile:
“I had a talk with Portillo y Rojas, this afternoon. All is not yet lost. I have left my secretaries working on a long telegram to Tokio.”
I asked: “You mean there may be a possible arrangement?”
And he said, “Yes,” without enlarging on it. N. is out, calling on Iturbide to thank him for the guard, and Adatchi returns at nine-thirty. After he left, I told Ayguesparsse and von Papen what Adatchi had said.
Ayguesparsse said, “His government would naturallyfavor the Mexicans.” And we all wondered if the Japscouldhave worked out anarreglamiento. The Japanesementalitéis, of course, absolutely foreign and irreconcilable to ours, but it isnota negligible quantity. Ayguesparsse has been very, very nice all these days, and I realize that behind that elegant silhouette there is a man of poise and kindness. Scarcely had he and von Papen departed when Hohler came in, hoping still for some arrangement. In this dark hour every one of the colleagues has shown himself sincerely desirous of some issue being found. So you have a little of my day, full of a thousand other things. Many people have urged me to depart with them, but I am not nervous, not afraid. I am no trouble to N., perhaps even some help; and certainly dignity and all manner of fitness demand that I remain here with him till he gets his papers,ifhe gets them, and go off suitably at the time appointed by our country, or the country to which we are accredited. My leaving now would mean to the Americans here that all was lost—even honor,Ishould add. Elim has not been far out of sight to-day. He was warned, and thegendarmesand everybody in the house warned, that he was not even to look out of the gate; and, scenting possible danger, he has not wandered far afield. He climbs into my chair, trots after me, looks in at the door—he has no intention of being out of call if suddenly wanted. His little senses are alert, and he knows that all is not quiet on the plateau.
Instead of an attack, last night, everything was very peaceful. The automobile squad, composed of willing and capable Americans, circled continually about the Embassy, as well as the guard of one hundred mountedgendarmesEduardo Iturbide sent us. A bare message came from Washington, very late, saying that Congresshad voted the President full powers. The details we will doubtless get this morning. TheYpiranga, of the Hamburg-American Line, arrives at Vera Cruz to-day, with seventeen million rounds of ammunition for Huerta, which will greatly complicate matters. I do not know if we are going to seize it or not. If we do, it is anacte de guerre, and we will be out of here on short notice. If one were convinced of the good-will of Washington, this whole incident could be arranged in five minutes. The Mexican Foreign Office published this morning the full text of the documents on the Tampico incident. The officials feel there is nothing to conceal, and the diplomats and every American in town have by now lapped up with their coffee all the secrets of the situation.