Ayguesparsse said, “His government would naturally favor the Mexicans.” And we all wondered if the Japs could have worked out an arreglamiento. The Japanese mentalité is, of course, absolutely foreign and irreconcilable to ours, but it is not a 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, if he 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, I should add. Elim has not been far out of sight to-day. He was warned, and the gendarmes and 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.
April 21st.
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 mounted gendarmes Eduardo Iturbide sent us. A bare message came from Washington, very late, saying that Congress had voted the President full powers. The details we will doubtless get this morning. The Ypiranga, 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 an acte 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.
XXII
Vera Cruz taken—Anti-American demonstrations—Refugees at the Embassy—A long line of visitors—A dramatic incident in the cable-office—Huerta makes his first and last call at the Embassy.
April 21st. 12.30.
Nelson has been informed through Mexican sources—a most embarrassing way to get the news—that Vera Cruz was taken by our ships at eight o’clock this morning. (Cortés landed on April 21st, if I am not mistaken, though, of course, that isn’t much help to us now!) The line from Mexico City to Vera Cruz has been blown up. I am so worn out that I wouldn’t mind seeing even the Zapatistas climbing in at the windows. Aunt Laura has been sitting by my bed, wearing that pale-blue woolen jacket you sent me. She feels, after all these decades of Tehuantepec, a chill even in these lovely days. The situation she will find herself in after we go appalls me, but she is determined to remain. All these years she has watched the increasing glories and securities of Don Porfirio’s Mexico. One could go unarmed from the Rio Grande to Guatemala. Now, when the years begin to press upon her, she is caught up and ruined by present-day Mexican uncertainties, or rather, certainties. One knows one will lose everything one has here.
N. just looked in at the door to say we may have to leave via the Pacific (Manzanillo and San Francisco). Well, it is all in the hands of the Lord. Some time, some way, we are destined to be recalled from Mexico City. I wonder what Huerta is thinking of doing this morning. Will the situation weld together his divided people? I am thankful not to be among the hundreds—no, thousands—without bank accounts in New York, Chicago, Boston, or other places, who are being packed like sardines on transports for “home.” These are the real tragedies of the situation to us, though I can’t help thinking of the Mexican side. Several hundred thousand men, women, and children have been killed in various ways since Madero started for Mexico City—American gunners manning his guns.
April 21st. 5 o’clock.
No news from Washington to-day. We might all be massacred. It is due to the essential meekness, want of national spirit, want of whatever you will in the Mexicans, that we are not, not because a paternal government is watching over its public servants in foreign parts. I have sent out for a good supply of candles; the lights might be cut to-night by some Zapatista band. We all wonder why Huerta hasn’t cut the railroad to Vera Cruz. Why doesn’t he make things a bit nasty for us?