Almost the first thing he did was to annul our concession, on the ground that its terms had not been complied with, along with a dozen others, as the beginning of his war on all foreigners. I denied his right to cancel our grant, especially as it contained a clause which stipulated that any disagreement between the government and the concessionaire should be referred to the Alta Carte Federale, or Supreme Court, for adjustment. As the case had not been brought before that court I held there could be no legal annulment, even if that power did rest in the executive, which I denied. This contention was subsequently upheld by the International Court of Arbitration, following the blockade and bombardment of the allied powers, which decided that our concession was still in full force.
When Castro saw that we did not propose to submit to his arbitrary annulment he undertook to drive me out of the country. He realized that so long as I remained on the concession we could claim to be in full possession of it, and he proceeded to harass me in every conceivable way in the hope of making it too hot for me. Under our contract we were to nominate and pay all of the officers within our territory and the government was to appoint them. My old chief of police, Abreu, was arrested and taken away on some false charge, and a new man, Tinoco, in whose selection I had no voice, was sent to take his place. He was, I learned, a spy and had orders to send in reports which would make it appear that the company was stirring up revolts and otherwise violating the terms of its concession. This I discovered in time to induce Tinoco, with the aid of a pistol, to sign a statement in which he denied all of his dishonest reports and gave the company a clean bill of health. He died soon afterward.
Castro created a military district known as the Territorio Delta-Amacuro, which took in all of our property, and made Catalina the capital, so that the Governor and the other officials could keep me under their eyes. They all had instructions to make the place so uncomfortable for me that I would leave. Fortunately, when it received its concession the company had bought the land on which its buildings were erected. Only the fact that I was an American citizen and held the deeds to the property restrained them from expelling me by main force. However, I could see trouble coming, so I dug rifle pits under the porches on the two sides of the house from which we could be attacked. I had plenty of arms and ammunition and about twenty men of whose bravery and loyalty I was sure.
I was prohibited from buying anything at the pulperia, or commissary, and we were hard put to it at times for enough to eat. We caught fish in the river and my men stole out into the woods to hunt at every favorable opportunity, but the moment they left our property they exposed themselves to arrest on some trumped-up charge. Sometimes we were able to surreptitiously buy supplies from the natives, and we managed to get along. I filed protests at Caracas, with the Governor and with my company, but they accomplished nothing. I was told by the officials of the company that they were doing the best they could, with representations to the State Department at Washington, and that I would have to do the best I could, and I did it. The troops were continually spying on us and annoying us with fictitious charges, but it was a year or more before the government, angered by its failure to get rid of me, resorted to extreme measures. A new Governor was sent down with strict orders to remove me, by force if necessary. He advanced toward the house with about seventy-five soldiers. I ordered my men into the rifle pits and met the General at the gate.
“What do you want?” I demanded fiercely.
“I beg your pardon,” replied the commander, with all the treacherous suavity of his race, “but I have orders to take you under my care and escort you to Trinidad in order that no injury may come to you. Our country is troubled and the government is anxious as to your safety.”
“My compliments to President Castro,” I told him, “and assure him that I feel perfectly secure here, and quite comfortable. You can also tell him that I propose to stay here.”
“That is much to be regretted,” responded the still overly polite general, “for in that case I have to inform you that my orders are to arrest you and take you to Trinidad.”
“In that case,” I said, imitatively, “I have to inform you that you will find it impossible to carry out your orders, and I advise you not to attempt it.”
“You mean that you will resist arrest?” he exclaimed in surprise.