There is a cartoon reproduced in The Literary Digest, which I am sending you. In it Uncle Sam is saying to President Wilson, “It’s no use, Woody; you can’t pet a porcupine,” the porcupine being Huerta, in the background, sitting near a bit of cactus. Some London papers call Huerta the “Mexican Cromwell.” His speech, putting patriotism and morality above expediency, evidently made a hit.
VI
“Decisive word” from Washington—A passing scare—Conscription’s terrors—Thanksgiving—The rebel advance—Sir Christopher Cradock—Huerta’s hospitable waste-paper basket.
November 28th.
An exciting day. The long-looked-for “decisive” word came from Washington this morning, to be communicated this evening to every embassy and legation in Europe. By to-night all the foreign representatives here and the press will be informed. It states that we will not recede one step from our position; that Huerta and all his supporters must go; that we will isolate him, starve him out financially, morally, and physically; that revolution and assassination may come to an end in Latin America; that we will protect our interests and the interests of all foreigners, and that peace must be made in Mexico, or that we will make it ourselves! It is the argumentum ad hominem certainly, and we can only wait to see what acrobatic feats to avoid the blow will be performed by Huerta. The language is unmistakable and could only be used because the military force necessary is behind it and ready.
November 29th.
Well, the scare of yesterday has passed.... Now the Foreign Office here can do more masterly ignoring!
Last month, on the 25th, Huerta signed a decree increasing the army to 150,000; the work of conscription has been going on at a great rate. After the bull-fight on Sunday seven hundred unfortunates were seized, doubtless never to see their families again. Once far from Mexico City, they are not bright about getting back. At a big fire a few days ago nearly a thousand were taken, many women among them, who are put to work in the powder-mills. A friend told me this morning that the father, mother, two brothers, and the sister of one of her servants were taken last week. They scarcely dare, any of them, to go out after dark. Posting a letter may mean, literally, going to the cannon’s mouth.
In “junking” the other day I found an interesting old print of the taking of Chapultepec by the Americans, September, 1847, which I have fitted into a nice old frame. I am keeping it up-stairs. I went to the Red Cross this morning for the first time since my return. They all greeted me most cordially and said N. was “muy amigo de Mexico” (“very much a friend of Mexico”). I shall take Wednesdays and Saturdays for my service.
To-morrow is Thanksgiving. I am receiving for the Colony and such of the chers collègues as care to help wave the Stars and Stripes. It will be a sort of census of how many Americans are really left in town. Their number is fast dwindling.