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# A diplomat's wife in Mexico : $b Letters from the American Embassy at Mexico City, covering the dramatic period between October 8th, 1913, and the breaking off of diplomatic relations on April 23rd, 1914, together with an account of the occupation of Vera Cruz ### By O'Shaughnessy, Edith

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Transcriber’s Notes:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.

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[Illustration: MRS. NELSON O’SHAUGHNESSY]

A DIPLOMAT’S WIFE IN MEXICO

BY EDITH O’SHAUGHNESSY [MRS. NELSON O’SHAUGHNESSY]

_Letters from the American Embassy at Mexico City, covering the dramatic period between October 8th, 1913, and the breaking off of diplomatic relations on April 23rd, 1914, together with an account of the occupation of Vera Cruz_

ILLUSTRATED

[Illustration]

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON

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A DIPLOMAT’S WIFE IN MEXICO

CONTENTS

FOREWORD ix

Arrival at Vera Cruz--Mr. Lind--Visits to the battle-ships--We reach Mexico City--Huerta’s second _coup d’état_--A six-hour Reception at the Chinese Legation. An all-afternoon hunt for the Dictator. Page 1

Sanctuary to Bonilla--Sir Lionel and Lady Carden--Carranza--Mexican servants--First Reception at the American Embassy--Huerta receives the Diplomatic Corps--Election Day and a few surprises. Page 14

III

Federal and Rebel excesses in the north--Some aspects of social life--Mexico’s inner circle--Huerta’s growing difficulties--Rabago--The “Feast of the Dead.”--Indian booths at the Alameda--The Latin-American’s future. Page 28

The “Abrazo”--Arrival of Mr. Lind--Delicate negotiations in progress--Luncheon at the German Legation--Excitement about the bull-fight--Junk-hunting--Americans in prison--Another “big game” hunt. Page 40

Uncertain days--The friendly offices of diplomats--A side-light on executions--Mexican street cries--Garza Aldape resigns--First official Reception at Chapultepec Castle--The jewels of Cortés. Page 50

“Decisive word” from Washington--A passing scare--Conscription’s terrors--Thanksgiving--The rebel advance--Sir Christopher Cradock--Huerta’s hospitable waste-paper basket. Page 66

VII

Huerta visits the Jockey Club--Chihuahua falls--“The tragic ten days”--Exhibition of gunnery in the public streets--Mexico’s “potential Presidents”--“The Tiger of the North.” Page 77

VIII

The sad exodus from Chihuahua--Archbishop Mendoza--Fiat money--Villa’s growing activities--Indian stoicism--Another Chapultepec Reception--A day of “Mexican Magic” in the country. Page 92

Christmas--The strangling of a country--de la Barra--The “_mañana_ game”--Spanish in five phrases--Señora Huerta’s great diamond--The peon’s desperate situation in a land torn by revolutions. Page 110

New-Year’s receptions--Churubusco--Memories of Carlota--Rape of the Morelos women--Mexico’s excuse for the murder of an American citizen--A visit to the floating gardens of Xochimilco. Page 120

Dramatic values at Vera Cruz--Visits to the battle-ships--Our superb hospital-ship, the _Solace_--Admiral Cradock’s flag-ship--An American sailor’s menu--Three “square meals” a day--Travel in revolutionary Mexico. Page 132

XII

Ojinaga evacuated--Tepozotlan’s beautiful old church and convent--Azcapotzalco--A Mexican christening--The release of Vera Estañol--Necaxa--The friars--The wonderful Garcia Pimentel library. Page 148

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. Page 167

XIV

A “neat little haul” for brigands--Tea at San Angel--A picnic and a burning village--The lesson of “Two Fools”--Austria-Hungary’s new minister--Cigarettes in the making--Zapata’s message. Page 181

Departure of the British minister--Guns and marines from Vera Cruz--Review at the Condesa--_Mister Lind_--The Benton case--Huerta predicts intervention--Villa at Chihuahua. Page 189

XVI

Huerta’s impressive review for the special correspondents--The _Grito de Dolores_--Tons of “stationery” for the Embassy--Villa and Carranza disagree--The Embassy guard finds itself occupied. Page 203

XVII

The torture of Terrazas--Mexico’s banking eccentricities--Departure of the Lefaivres--Zapatista methods--Gustavo Madero’s death--First experience of Latin-American revolutions--Huerta’s witty speech. Page 211

XVIII

Back to Vera Cruz--Luncheon on the _Chester_--San Juan’s prison horrors--Tea on the _Mayflower_--The ministry of war and the commissary methods--Torreon falls again?--Don Eduardo Iturbide. Page 229

XIX

Congress meets without the United States representative--Huerta makes his “profession of faith”--Exit Mr. Lind--Ryan leaves for the front--French and German military _attachés_--The Jockey Club. Page 247

Good Friday--Mexican toys with symbolic sounds--“The Tampico incident”--Sabado de Gloria and Easter--An international photograph--The last reception at Chapultepec. Page 257

XXI

Mr. Bryan declines the kindly offices of The Hague--More Americans leave Mexico City--Lieutenant Rowan arrives--Guarding the Embassy--Elim keeps within call. Page 272

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. Page 285

XXIII

The wedding of President Huerta’s son--Departure from the Embassy--Huerta’s royal accommodations--The journey down to Vera Cruz--The white flag of truce--We reach the American lines. Page 298

XXIV

Dinner on the _Essex_--The last fight of Mexico’s naval cadets--American heroes--End of the Tampico incident--Relief for the starving at San Juan Ulua--Admiral Fletcher’s greatest work. Page 318

XXV

Our recall from Mexican soil--A historic dinner with General Funston--The navy turns over the town of Vera Cruz to the army--The march of the six thousand blue-jackets--Evening on the _Minnesota_. Page 338

XXVI

Homeward bound--Dead to the world in Sarah Bernhardt’s luxurious cabin--Admiral Badger’s farewell--“The Father of Waters”--Mr. Bryan’s earnest message--Arrival at Washington--_Adelante!_ Page 348

ILLUSTRATIONS

MRS. NELSON O’SHAUGHNESSY _Frontispiece_

A VIEW OF POPOCATEPETL AND IZTACCIHUATL _Facing p._ 6

MRS. ELLIOTT COUES “ 16

ELIM “ 16

V. HUERTA “ 60

VILLA DE GUADALUPE “ 86

THE FLOATING GARDENS OF XOCHIMILCO “ 126

ADMIRAL SIR CHRISTOPHER CRADOCK “ 136

ADMIRAL F. F. FLETCHER “ 136

HUERTA’S SOLDIERS WATCHING THE REBEL ADVANCE “ 150

A GROUP OF OJINAGA REFUGEES “ 150

THE GUARD THAT STOPPED US “ 172

“THE WOMAN IN WHITE”--FROM SAN JUAN HILL “ 182

THE “DIGGINGS” (AZCAPOTZALCO) “ 206

THE PYRAMID OF SAN JUAN TEOTIHUACAN “ 206

THE SIESTA “ 258

FOREWORD

Though the events recorded in these letters are known to all the world, they may, perhaps, take on another significance seen through the eyes of one who has loved Mexico for her beauty and wept for the disasters that have overtaken her.

The time has not yet come for a full history of the events leading to the breaking off of diplomatic relations, but after much pondering I have decided to publish these letters. They were written to my mother, day by day, after a habit of long years, to console both her and me for separation, and without any thought of publication. In spite of necessary omissions they may throw some light on the difficulties of the Mexican situation, which we have made our own, and which every American wishes to see solved in a way that will testify to the persistence of those qualities that made us great.

Victoriano Huerta, the central figure of these letters, is dead, and many with him; but the tragedy of the nation still goes on. So above all thought of party or personal expediency, and because of vital issues yet to be decided, I offer this simple chronicle. The Mexican

## book is still open, the pages just turned are crumpled and ensanguined.

New and momentous chapters for us and for Mexico are being written and I should be forever regretful had courage failed me to write my little share.

It is two years ago to-day that diplomatic relations were broken off between the two republics. It is more than two years since the Constitutionalists under Villa and Carranza have had our full moral and material support. The results have been a punitive expedition sent into Mexico to capture Villa, and very uncertain and unsatisfactory relations with the hostile _de facto_ government under Carranza. As for beautiful Mexico--her industries are dead, her lands laid waste, her sons and daughters are in exile, or starving in the “treasure-house of the world.” What I here give forth--and the giving is not easy--I offer only with a trembling hope of service.

EDITH COUES O’SHAUGHNESSY.

THE PLAZA, NEW YORK, _April 23, 1916_.

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A DIPLOMAT’S WIFE IN MEXICO

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A DIPLOMAT’S WIFE IN MEXICO

MEXICO CITY, _October 8, 1913_.

Precious Mother,--You will have seen by the cable flashes in your Paris _Herald_ that Elim and I arrived at Vera Cruz yesterday, safe and sound, and departed the same evening for the heights in the presidential car, put at N.’s disposal the night before, for the trip from Mexico City and back.

It was a long day. Everybody was up at dawn, walking about the deck or hanging over the sides of the ship, all a bit restless at the thought of the Mexican uncertainties which we were so soon to share. About six o’clock we began to distinguish the spires of Vera Cruz--the peak of Orizaba, rivaling the loveliest pictures of Fujiyama, showing its opal head above a bank of dark, sultry clouds. A hot, gray sea was breaking over the reefs at the mouth of the harbor, and the same lonely palms stood on the Isla de los Sacrificios. As we passed between the two gray battle-ships just outside the harbor, I could not help a little shudder at the note of warning they struck. The dock was crowded with the well-remembered, picturesque, white-clad Indians, with high-peaked hats, who suggested immediately the changeless mystery of Mexico.

Fortunately, the weather being overcast, the intense heat was a little modified, though it was no day to set off looks or clothes; every one’s face and garments were gray and limp. N. arrived just as we were getting up to the docks, his train having been late. His face was the last we discovered among various officials coming and going during the irksome pulling in of the _Espagne_. As you know, we had been separated for eight months. I was the first passenger to leave the ship, and as we had no customs formalities we passed quickly through the damp, boiler-like shed where the little tricks of the _aduana_ (the customs) were about to be performed on hot and excited voyagers. Then we got into a rickety cab, its back flap flying to the breeze, and drove across the sandy, scrubby stretch to the Hotel Terminus, where the Linds are living. The fascinating little pink houses with their coquettish green balconies were as of yore, but the tropical glint and glitter seemed gone from everything under the hot, gray sky.

The Hotel Terminus is the same old horror of flies, fleas, and general shiftlessness, though the broad, high corridor up-stairs, giving on to the sleeping-rooms, was fairly clean. We were finally shown into a large room, where Mrs. Lind was waiting. After our greetings I sank into a rocking-chair, and a big electric fan, in conjunction with the breeze from the window looking toward the sea, somewhat restored my energy.

In a few minutes Mr. Lind appeared, in shirt-sleeves and a panama fan. (I suppose he wore other articles, but these are what I remember.) I was greatly struck by him. He is evidently a man of many natural abilities and much magnetism--tall, gaunt, sandy-haired, unmistakably Scandinavian, with the blue, blue eyes of the Norsemen set under level brows. I imagine fire behind that northern façade. The conversation opened with conciliatory and smiling remarks, after the manner of experts in any situation, meeting for the first time. I found him very agreeable. There was even something Lincolnesque in his look and bearing, but his entry on the Mexican stage was certainly abrupt, and the setting completely unfamiliar, so some very natural barking of the shins has been the result. Looking at him, I couldn’t help thinking of “the pouring of new wine into old bottles” and all the rest of the scriptural text.

The Linds, who have a handsome house in Minneapolis and another “on the lake,” are accepting things as they find them, with an air of “all for the good of the United States and the chastising of Mexico.” But all the same, it is a hardship to inhabit the Terminus and then to tramp three times a day through the broiling streets to another hotel for very questionable food.

The Hotel Diligencias, where we lunched, is deeper in the town, has fewer flies, is a little cleaner, and is very much hotter. Once away from the sea breeze you might as well be in Hades as in Vera Cruz on a day like yesterday. The Diligencias is the hotel whereon De Chambrun hangs the famous story of his wife’s maid going back for something that had been forgotten, and finding that the servants had whisked the sheets off the beds and were ironing them out on the floor for the next comers--_sans autre forme de procès_! We had a pleasant lunch, with the familiar menu of _Huachinango_, _pollo y arroz_, alligator pears and tepid ice-cream, consumed to the accompaniment of suppositions regarding Mexican politics. Then we plunged into the deserted, burning street (all decent folk were at the business of the siesta) and back to the Hotel Terminus, feeling much the worse for wear.

At four o’clock Lieutenant Courts came to conduct us to the flag-ship _Louisiana_, and we asked Hohler, the British _chargé_ who was in Vera Cruz awaiting the arrival of Sir Lionel and Lady Carden, to go with us. Admiral Fletcher and his officers were waiting for Nelson at the gangway and the band was playing _the_ beloved air as we went up. We were there about an hour, which seemed all too short, sitting on the spotless deck, where a delightful breeze was blowing. The time passed in eager conversation about the situation with Admiral Fletcher, a charming and clever man, with dark, earnest eyes and serious, intent expression, all set off by the most immaculate white attire. Champagne was poured, healths were drunk, and Elim was taken over the ship, departing with one of the junior officers, after a glance at me betokening the magnitude of the adventure. We left, after warm handshakings and good wishes, N. receiving his eleven salutes as we went away. The tears came to my eyes. “Oh, land of mine!” I thought. “Oh, brotherhood!” But Elim asked, in a frightened tone, “Why are they shooting at papa?”

We then went over to the _New Hampshire_ to call on Captain Oliver. More health-drinking and stirring of friendly feelings. Pictures of the Holy Father and prelates I have known gave a familiar note to Captain Oliver’s quarters. Then, in the wondrous tropical dusk, the little launch steamed quickly back to town, where we had just time to gather up our belongings and maid at the Terminus and descend to the station beneath. Mr. Lind stood waving farewell as we steamed out, and I must say I am quite taken by him!

Our train, preceded by a military train, was most luxurious. None of “the comforts of home” was lacking, from the full American bill of fare to the white-coated colored porters--all at poor, bankrupt Huerta’s expense. It made me eat abstemiously and sit lightly!

We had a quiet night, rising swiftly up those enchanting slopes, a warm, perfumed, exotic air coming in at the window. At dawn, with a catching of the breath, I looked out and saw once again those two matchless, rose-colored peaks--Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl, looking tranquilly down on the beauteous plateau, indifferent to man’s disorders.

[Illustration: A VIEW OF POPOCATEPETL AND IZTACCIHUATL]

At Mexico City Captain Burnside and the Embassy staff were at the station to meet us, and in a moment I found myself once again driving through the familiar, vivid streets, the changeless, silent Indians coming and going about their simple affairs. The Embassy is a huge house--a gray-stone, battlemented, castle-on-the-Rhine effect--which, fortunately, had been put on a possible living basis for the Linds by a kindly administration. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good. The Linds were here only ten days, and I think it very improbable that they will ever return. He is a man of good sense, and there is, as in most establishments, room for many men but only for one _maîtresse de maison_.

Now I must be up and doing. I want to pull the furniture about, down-stairs, and make myself a setting of some sort. There are several packing-boxes containing the accumulation of our first Mexican bout--books, vases, cushions, and the like. Fortunately, the comfortable green leather library set of Mr. Henry Lane Wilson, together with handsome rugs and bookcases, were also bought for the “confidential agent”; and I shall use them in my drawing-room, instead of a rather uncomfortable French set upholstered in pink. The bedrooms are already fully and handsomely furnished with the Wilsons’ things.

Dear Mme. Lefaivre came last night, and we had lunch at the Legation to-day. Such an affectionate welcome from her warmest of hearts! Many persons have called and cards and flowers were coming in all day.

_P. S._ Yesterday, Torreon fell into the hands of the rebels, and many atrocities were committed against Spanish subjects. The Spanish minister is in a great state of excitement. This is a severe blow to Huerta. He is supposed to suppress the revolution. If he doesn’t, he loses his _raison d’être_--perhaps, also, his head.

[Illustration: MRS. ELLIOTT COUES

(Mother of Mrs. O’Shaughnessy)]

[Illustration: ELIM]

_October 11th._

Last night Huerta accomplished his second _coup d’état_; he is getting very skilful. He surrounded the Chamber of Deputies while the honorable gentlemen were in session, conspiring against their constitution. He had them arrested as they came out into the hall, and I understand there was quite a stampede from the Chamber itself when they got wind of the fact that something was wrong. He accuses them of obstructing his policy of pacification by every low and unpatriotic means at their command, and these are numerous.

Now one hundred and ten of them are lodged in the famous _Penitenciaría_, whither Madero was going on his last journey. N. was out until two o’clock in the morning, with the Spanish minister (dean of the diplomatic corps), going first to the Foreign Office to try to obtain guarantees for the lives of the imprisoned Deputies, and afterward to the _Penitenciaría_, where they were shown a list of _eighty-four_, and given assurances that they would not suffer. It looked a bit black for the remaining twenty-six. The clerks spent the rest of the night here, getting the despatches off to Washington.

Huerta appears to care very little whom he shoots. He has small sentiment about human life (his own, or anybody’s else), but he is a strong and astute man; and if he could get a few white blackbirds, in the shape of patriots, to work with him, and if the United States were not on his back, he might eventually bring peace to his country.

I am not yet reaccustomed to the extreme beauty of the Mexican morning; a dazzling, many-colored light that would dim the spectrum is filtering into my room, as I write, glorifying every object and corner. I have had the covers taken off the pink furniture; a rose-colored coverlet and cushions are on my _chaise-longue_, and the _glow_ is indescribable.

You will have seen that the Chambers are convened for the fifteenth of November, but in spite of preparations for legislation, a warlike something is in the air. Squads of soldiers are passing the Embassy, with much playing of the beautiful national hymn. They handle their brass very well, and their military music would be good anywhere.

In Washington they are taking the news of the _coup d’état_ with their coffee....

I have not yet seen von Hintze,[1] though he came early yesterday, bringing a gift of fortifying liqueur, “for the altitude,” and some flowers; and I went with Elim to the Legation, later on. I understand that he looks at the situation rather _en noir_. But he is somewhat of a bear on Mexican matters, anyway, his first experience, on arriving three years ago, being the horrid Covadonga murders.... A certain natural exclusiveness and aloofness are among his special attributes, and his psychology is somewhat mysterious, even to his friends; but he is immensely clever and charming, of the world, and very sympathetic--really a _cher_ colleague!

N. has just left the house in frock-coat and top-hat, the chiefs of mission having been summoned to the Foreign Office, where they will hear the official reason of the _coup d’état_. I shall be most interested in the explanation, which will probably be some adroit Latin-American arrangement of facts. One has a feeling of being at school, here, and constantly learning something new to the Anglo-Saxon mentality.

Now I must hie me down-stairs and tackle a few of _my_ “affairs of the interior.” The house is so big that, even with the many servants now in it, it doesn’t seem “manned,” and bells are answered very intermittently. One or more of the servants can always be found at the gates of the garden, greeting the passers-by--a little Indian habit, and incurable. What I need is a European _maître d’hôtel_ to thunder at them from his Aryan heights as the Wilsons had. There are some good Aztec specimens left over from their administration, whom I shall keep on--Aurora, a big, very handsome Indian maid, from the Apam valley; Maria, the head washerwoman, with fine, delicate hands, like a queen; and a few others. Neither cook nor butler. Berthe is busy unpacking and pressing; everything was wrinkled by the damp, penetrating heat of the sea-trip.

The Embassy has two _gendarmes_ to watch the gate, instead of the usual one given to legations--nice, old Francisco, who has been in the service of the United States for twelve years, and a handsome new one--Manuel. The auto stands before the gate all day long. Jesus, the chauffeur, seems very good--a fine-featured, lithe-bodied, quick-witted young Indian. Though married, he is, I hear, much sought after by the other sex. Elim always goes out with me, and loves sitting on the front seat with his dog, a melancholy Irish terrier sent by Mr. Armstead from Guanajuato.

Exchange is now very low. One hundred dollars equals two hundred and eighty Mexican dollars. Very nice for those supplied from abroad, but killing to these people, and with the sure prospect of getting worse. The price of articles has gone up by leaps and bounds--not native foods so much, but all articles of import. I hear the auto-horn and must stop. Will be very much interested to hear the official wherefor of the _coup d’état_.

_October 12th, Evening._

Well, the Diplomatic Corps, in uniform, was received at the Foreign Office with much unction, by the large, stout Moheno, Minister of Foreign Affairs, of whom more another time. He insisted principally on the great efforts General Huerta was making to restore peace, and the equally great obstructions placed in his way, saying that since the opening of Congress these obstructions had been particularly in evidence, handicapping him at every step. He added that, though the act of dissolving Congress was unconstitutional, Mexico must be compared to an ill man needing an immediate operation; and that the government was confronted by the dilemma formulated by Gambetta (they do love to find a European simile for their situation)--“Yield or resign!” which, in this case, would have been tantamount to national dissolution. The crux of the speech is, however, that the elections are to be held this month.

Sir Lionel presented his letters of credence yesterday, thus putting the hall-mark of his government upon Huerta. It appears there was quite a love-feast; Huerta, of course, was immensely pleased at the proof of recognition at the delicate moment of his birth and first struggling cry as a dictator.