XIV
Tegucigalpa was quiet again.
The American Minister drove past my hotel in a big automobile filled with American naval officers in gold braid and cocked hats. The warship Rochester, flag-ship of the Panama squadron, was now anchored off Amapala. Admiral Dayton had come up to the Capital with his staff on what was described officially as “nothing more than a courtesy visit.” But it was reported that American gunboats were now lying off the east coast ports, ready to protect American property at the banana plantations. And it was humorously said in Tegucigalpa that the Admiral was about to reconvene Congress and preside over it himself.
THE WARSHIP ROCHESTER HAD ANCHORED AT AMAPALA ON WHAT WAS DESCRIBED AS A COURTESY VISIT
“There will be much speculation regarding this visit,” suggested an American at the Legation.
The Minister smiled.
“I think there will be no speculation at all.”
Honduras apparently had taken the hint. Just how the election difficulties were to be solved, no one knew, but every one agreed that they would be solved peacefully. Wherefore I caught the daily passenger truck down to Amapala to continue my journey to Nicaragua.
But, as always in these countries, the unexpected happened. The American warship, as soon as peace had settled upon Honduras, steamed away. And a few days later the whole Republic was in flames. Cable dispatches informed the world that Carías had slipped out of Tegucigalpa, joined forces awaiting him near the Nicaraguan border, and started back to the capital, that President Gutierrez had fled to Amapala and died there from nervous strain, that the other candidates were leading troops in other sections of the country, that machine-guns were sweeping the streets of the cities, that American citizens were taking refuge in the Legation, that the Rosario mines were calling for protection, and that American marines were landing at the banana plantations of the East Coast.
Such is life in Honduras!