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.
February 26th. Noon
We are just home, after seeing the review (from Chapultepec through town to the Zocalo) of all the troops now in the city. They were turned out for the benefit of the special correspondents, invited to the gay scene by Huerta, and the government is paying all the expenses. The regular correspondents in town feel rather peeved about the matter. We sat in the motor in the Zocalo, under the cloudless sky and soft, penetrating sun, and watched the défilé. The banner of the Twenty-ninth bore the long, red streamer that Huerta had tied on the other day, with trembling fingers. The troops were all well armed. They had new rifles and new, well-filled cartridge-belts, and the effect was most encouraging—for Huerta. The special correspondents, from the windows of the Palace, had their cameras and cine machines in action. Really, Huerta has done wonders to keep the troops together so well and so long, in the face of such overwhelming odds. The bugle-calls and the martial music echoed over the Plaza—the setting for so many centuries of the hopes and fears, the beginnings and the endings, of these Mexican people.
I thought of the 1911 anniversary of the Grito de Dolores—that night of the 16th of September when I stood on the middle balcony of the Palacio, with de la Barra and Madero, when the former was still President ad interim, and the latter was hoping all things. There we looked down on fifty or sixty thousand upturned faces, while the celebrated Campana de la Independencia (Independence bell) rang above our heads, followed by the great bells from the illuminated towers of the cathedral. The present is nearer the past in Mexico than anywhere else.10 As we came home we were snapshotted a dozen times by the disconsolate correspondents who had not been invited to the Palace to “assist” at the parade. Coming up “Plateros,” Nelson saw Huerta’s automobile outside of “El Globo” restaurant, and left me, to go in to speak to him.
This morning the big banana-tree in the front garden was released from its winter wrappings, if one can call these cloudless days winter. The most wonderful banners of purest, palest yellow are gently waving against the perfect sky. I am now waiting for Hohler to come to lunch. Sir Lionel went off (during a tremendous norte), in the battle-ship Essex, which is taking him to Galveston. His country is treating him almost to the honors we give fleeing Maderistas.
Villa has not yet given up the body of Benton. If there is much more delay it will not be able to bear testimony to the truth. Unfortunately, a Federal officer, it is rumored, has hanged an American citizen, Vergara, at Piedras Negras. His pardon, sent from headquarters, came too late. Huerta will probably make an example of the hasty officer, if the deed has really been committed. We heard this morning that Carranza is going to make short work of O’Shaughnessy when he gets here. When!
I had a very interesting conversation with Hohler, who is thoroughly sincere and trustworthy, and able to look at things as they are. We sat long over our coffee, talking of the international web, of which Mexico is now so uncertain and frail a mesh. He intends to do what he can for his nationals. He is without fear, in a practical, unnervous way.
The reverse of the medal is that he is a tireless collector and connoisseur of beautiful things, and what he doesn’t get, the Belgian minister does. Between them, there is very little left for anybody else.