When General Huertas moved on Panama City with an army of 300 men and began to dictate to President Amador, Mr. Barrett advised the president to disband the hostile army. The president, to whom this method of warfare was a novelty, humored the young minister and told them to disband. But they refused. He offered them sixty days’ extra pay, half down and half a week after they had disbanded, but they demanded all of the money before disbanding. They might serve without pay but they would not stop serving without pay. Mr. Barrett advised the president not to heed this demand and made an eloquent speech that brought them to terms. He told them that Uncle Sam was back of President Amador. The soldiers were not accustomed to this kind of warfare and disbanded. After the army had disbanded, their guns were stored in the American warehouse at Ancón and the defense of the city and maintenance of order entrusted to the police, who performed after that the double duty of soldiers and policemen. And now, with no army except one of words, the words of Uncle Sam, Doctor Amador is secure in his position, and at last, “The path of glory leads to the gray,” as the poet Grave wrote.
Mr. Barrett’s delicate private supper was such a relief after the gorgeous banquets that we had been working at, that we did not really require any attention from him. His servant was entertaining and relieving us to our entire satisfaction. But the worry and responsibilities of public office in an unsettled and up-building foster-republic, and the fatigue of constant activity, did not prevent him giving himself up to our unrestrained enjoyment.
He gave us much information about Siam, where he was known as “I am, I am, the great white minister at Siam.” He said that the Sultan of Siam was very intelligent and progressive, that he had many wives but had decreed that his son and successor should have but one, and thus had shown that he possessed the courage of his convictions. Mr. Barrett told us that he had seen Siamese babies smoking cigars six inches long, and described a case in point. He said that elephants were not weaned until they were three years old, were not grown up until they were twenty, and that their working days were from thirty-three to sixty-six years. He said that elephants were afraid of mice, and gave an instance in which a mouse stampeded the royal herd, and it took six weeks to get them back in line again. He told us that the white elephant was pink, that the white was all in the white of his eye.
He and the other foreign diplomats dined once a week at the Emperor’s table. Barrett’s regular seat was beside the Empress-in-chief, and it fell to him to entertain her. In due time ordinary subjects of conversation had been worn threadbare, and the Empress helped him out by appointing a subject at each dinner for conversation at the next, which enabled him to look up his vocabulary and his ideas. On one occasion she asked him to give her some ideas on ladies’ hats. He studied hats in the cyclopedia and dictionary during the few stray moments of quiet and leisure he could find, and came to the dinner feeling competent to address the Empress in her own language on a feminine subject. But while he was discoursing eloquently about hats, and mingling Oriental compliments with incidental wisdom, she suddenly burst out laughing and kept on laughing until she burst some stays. The Emperor then became intensely curious to learn how the White Minister had done it. When finally the lady had gotten through laughing she told him what Mr. Barrett had said, viz.: “Your Majesty wears the most beautiful busts of any empress or queen in the Orient. Their originality of shape and harmony of coloring have charmed many an artist.” Mr. Barrett laughed also, thinking that he had pleased the Empress, but later learned that he had used the word bust in place of hat. However, he had not failed to amuse the Empress, which was quite a distinction.
Apropos of hats, we asked him why he had not married. He said that he preferred to be happy. His political duties already called upon him to do many things that he knew nothing about, but had not yet exacted that. He preferred to be a bachelor, and, as Doctor Waite expressed it, he shone better as a solitaire. He had read somewhere that wives talk in their sleep. He could endure any kind of babel or babble for eighteen hours a day, but not for twenty-four.
He had a little joke played upon him at his dinner that was not premeditated. The waiter was a quick and active man, as I suppose everybody about Mr. Barrett must be, and served us rapidly and well. But he got behind in his work and was hurried in serving the dessert, and had allowed the water glasses to become empty. He rushed out after water and in his haste grabbed a couple of bottles of white wine instead of White Rock water, and filled our tumblers with it. Mr. Barrett was busy talking and did notice the error. We were thirsty, and as the wine was very mild and of excellent quality we gladly drank it like water. I merely remarked that it was the best water I had tasted in Panama. We were soon through eating, and just before arising Mr. Barrett somewhat hastily took a large draught out of his tumbler. He swallowed and cleared his throat and looked at us. But as we said nothing, he said nothing, and he probably does not know to-day that we drank his best wine like plain water.
After giving us another hour of instructive and amusing conversation while sitting on the little Spanish balcony outside of the windows, he accompanied us to the ball. Here were assembled the beauty and talent of Panama. Preparations had been made for a grand dance and an elaborate supper at many small square, and a few tête-à-tête tables. We met nearly everybody we had met before and many that we had not, both Panamanians and North Americans. The naval officers of the Battleship Boston also added éclat to the occasion.
I had pleasant chats with our Chicago friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace. They lived in a house owned by the U. S. government not far from Plaza Centrál in the crowded part of the city. But Mr. Wallace had contrived to get out of the crowd to a certain extent by going upwards. He had built a sort of roof garden or open-air story on the top of the house, and had made other improvements that rendered it in comfort, although not in kind, as nearly equal to our North American homes as is consistent with the climate. He was enthusiastic about his canal work and apparently happy, and expecting to keep right on, although a few months’ residence in Panama is a great disillusioner. Mrs. Wallace seemed cheerful and contented in her new surroundings and apparently enjoyed great popularity in society. Whether she would have been able to stand the climate for ten or twelve years without injury to her health, and whether he could have retained sufficient vigor during such a long sweltering period to prosecute the work, must have been a question of some concern to him. It certainly would have shortened the natural course of his life somewhat and was not worth while unless there was something in it for him besides money. Wealth is not his who gets it, but his who enjoys it. He who gives a part and risks all of his life, and sacrifices all of his comfort and enjoyment of life, and does the work, deserves credit and appreciation.
At the time of the reorganization of the Canal Commission the newspapers of the country were talking wildly about a hundred thousand dollar man with power and authority to build the canal and build it quickly. They spoke of finding him, but left Mr. Wallace practically out of consideration. I do not doubt but this gave Mr. Wallace an attack of dyspepsia and that he took a gloomy view of things and saw himself at the end of four or five years with his health shattered by struggles with climatic and Congressional influences and hindrances, and discarded by a forgetful and impatient country. The country had already begun to go back on his contract, and the understanding with him, and I suppose he felt that he had the same right. If it was a question of salary only, why earn it in Panama where red heat and yellow fever were suggestive of future rewards and quick realization? Twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars is a small sum for digging one’s own grave and then not being allowed to occupy it. “To thine own self be true; and ...”