A diplomat's wife in Mexico

by Edith O'Shaughnessy

XIII

Gamboa—Fêtes for the Japanese officers—The Pius Fund—The Toluca road—Brown, of the National Railways—President Wilson raises the embargo on arms and ammunition—Hunting for Zapatistas.

January 29th.

Yesterday the handsome Mexican set came for bridge, and in the evening we went to dine at Señor Pardo’s house. He is the clever attorney for the “Mexican” railways. Federico Gamboa and his wife were there. Gamboa is most amusing, with one of those minds that answer to the point in conversation, what the French call le don de la réplique. He was Minister for Foreign Affairs last summer, and resigned to run for President, as choice of the Clerical party. Huerta said, quite frankly, of him to N. a few days ago, “I told him I liked him and wished him well, but if he had been elected President I should have had him shot.”

Gamboa’s answer to Mr. L. last August, though not satisfactory to us when laid by Mr. Wilson before Congress, remains a dignified, clever, and unimpeachable exposé of the Mexican situation from their point of view, which is that the United States, by every international law, is unwarranted in interfering in their interior affairs, as these, however unfortunate, are those of a sovereign state. They never got over the fact that the communications Mr. Lind brought with him were tactfully addressed to no one in particular, and referred to the government as “the persons who at the present time have authority or exercise influence in Mexico.” They consider that if they even once allowed such counsel from the United States they would compromise indefinitely their destinies as a sovereign state.

As for the phrase “the United States will not hesitate to consummate matters, especially in times of domestic trouble, in the way that they, the United States, consider best for Mexico”—it is graven on the mind of every Mexican who can read and write. Concerning our professions of friendship, which left them decidedly cold, Gamboa neatly said that never could there be a more propitious time for displaying it, that we had “only to watch that no material or military assistance of any kind be given to the rebels who find refuge, conspire, and provide themselves with arms and food on the other side of the border.” He further quietly states that he is greatly surprised that Mr. Lind’s mission should be termed a “mission of peace,” as, fortunately, neither then nor to-day had there existed any state of war between Mexico and the United States. The whole document is the tragic and bootless appeal of a weak nation to a strong.

Gamboa has had numerous diplomatic posts. He was minister to Brussels and to The Hague, and special ambassador to Spain to thank the King for participation in the Centenary of 1910....

After the Pardo dinner, two bright-eyed, clear-voiced Mexican girls, one of them Pardo’s daughter, sang Mexican songs with the true beat and lilt to them. Hanihara was also there, listening to the music in the usual detached, Oriental manner. The Japanese officers are being tremendously fêted, fed by each and every department of the government, till I should think their abstemious “little Marys” would rebel.

After dinner we walked home, a short distance, in the mild night, under a strangely low and starry sky. It seemed to me that by reaching out I could have had a planet for my own. The streets were deserted, save for an occasional Mexican, hurrying home, with his scarf across his mouth. There is a tradition here about not inhaling the night air. Here and there a guardia shivered in the shadows, as he watched his lantern, which he always places in the middle of the four crossings. One can walk with jewels gleaming, and without fear, under the Dictator.

Dr. Ryan left last night for Washington. I don’t like to interfere with any one’s premier mouvement, but I know it for an expensive, bootless trip. No one will care what he thinks about the certain consequences of the raising of the embargo.