# Mexico of the Mexicans/Chapter XIII

CHAPTER XIII
THE REVOLUTION
At the end of our historical sketch we stated that even when all looked fair for Mexico on the great day of her centenary as a Republic, the dark clouds of revolution were gathering above her. Diaz, who had ruled Mexico for a generation, had been elected to the Presidency in April, 1910, for the eighth consecutive time. But when Señor Francisco Madero placed himself at the head of the revolutionary movement which began in November, 1910, it was at once apparent that the Government had lost the confidence of the people. A change of Cabinet brought no accession of popular trust. Europe and America were amazed. For what reason had Mexico turned upon Diaz, its saviour, its popular idol, the man who had "made" it?
Since the enforced resignation of Diaz, evidence has accumulated that his régime was in large measure responsible for the unhappy conditions now prevailing. Here we have a system of government outwardly peaceable, prosperous, winning the approval and support of foreign powers, and notably of the United States; inwardly pursuing a policy of repression and cruelty worthy of mediaeval serfdom at its worst.
At the head of this Government, President Porfirio Diaz presents a curious study. Hailed—by outsiders—as a peace-maker, a wise and diplomatic ruler governing a refractory people with firmness and tolerance, he set himself with deliberate intent to crush every spark of patriotic feeling in the country, to bend the neck of the peasantry to his yoke, and finally to sell the nation into slavery. The "peace-maker" throughout his long years of office was waging a deadly war—a war of bitter oppression against his own ​people. The wise ruler was prudent only for the furtherance of his own interests and those of his paymasters, the rich American capitalists. The democracy which, under his predecessor Benito Juarez, had bidden fair to come into its own, was crushed back into slavery, and progress in every branch of civilisation delayed in consequence. Small wonder, then, that the people, reluctant when he first assumed authority over them, found his rule ever more irksome, and hated their yoke of oppression with a hatred ever more sincere and justifiable! After the death of Juarez, Diaz succeeded in establishing himself in the capital. By an impudent manipulation of the electoral machinery (opposition candidates were forcibly prevented from standing, and no contrary votes allowed to be registered!) Diaz had himself elected President, and so entered on a term of office which was to last for nearly forty years. This cool imposition of his authority was at first scarcely treated seriously; but Porfirio Diaz, with a foresight and determination worthy of a better ideal, set about strengthening his position where he judged it would best repay him to strengthen it. From the first, no attempt was made to placate the people of Mexico; but assiduously and to good purpose he cultivated the friendship of foreign powers, established a sound financial relationship with them, and encouraged foreign capitalists to settle in the country.
It is in connection with this latter part of his policy that some of the most disgraceful acts of the Diaz régime were perpetrated. In order to provide territory for the capitalists, the President and the Grupo Cientifico, or "grafters," over which he presided, resorted to unjust and barbarous methods of seizure. Thus for minor or even imaginary offences, large numbers of Mexicans were deported and their property confiscated. Then, because they could not produce the title-deeds to their estates, hundreds of native farmers and land-owners were forced to relinquish properties which had been in the possession of their families for generations. If they ​offered resistance, as they occasionally did, they were slaughtered wholesale by the soldiery. A case in point is the Tomochic Massacre of 1892, where the death-roll was placed at between 1,000 and 2,000, many of the victims being defenceless women and children. And this is but one of many instances of "judicial" robbery being followed up by "judicial" murder.
Even a tyrant may be excused in part if a sufficiently great motive be found for his tyranny. Diaz's motive may be reckoned in American dollars, American capitalistic support and patronage. The great capitalists, who were always the power behind the Presidential chair, bought up the territories thus obligingly accorded them; plantations of rubber, sugar, and tobacco sprang up and yielded substantial profits. But labour was required to work these great plantations—cheap labour. And here Diaz deliberately planned the great crime of his career, for in order to provide the labour he literally sold his people into slavery. Not only the properties of the deported Indians were forfeited—the people themselves were "confiscated," and forced to become chattel slaves on some hennequen farm or Southern plantation. The system once started, became more and more embracive. Criminals, instead of being imprisoned, were handed over to the slave-traders to undergo far worse punishment. If the demand exceeded the supply, the jefe politico, or district governor, could always trump up a charge against some poor creature, whom it was not even necessary to bring to trial. Failing that, it was a comparatively simple matter to kidnap a peon or a labourer. But the method chiefly adopted was that known as "contract labour," a thinly disguised system of slave-trading, to be described later.
Since the whole political and legal system of Mexico is involved, it may be questioned just how far President Diaz was responsible for the infamous dealings carried out under the cloak and cover of his Government. Doubtless much independent plundering and slave-trading went on among ​the governors of the several States and the jefes politicos; yet it must be remembered that the Diaz régime was to all intents and purposes an autocracy purely. Governors and jefes politicos were invariably the creatures of the President, as were no less the military, rurales, and police. That he must bear a full share of the responsibility is, therefore, inevitable, and truly the responsibility is not light. A nation crushed and demoralised, its natural progress retarded, countless individuals degraded to slavery, tortured and brutally ill-treated, and this carried into the twentieth century—surely no heavier charge can be laid against a ruler.
And though from out this hotbed of misgovernment, Diaz turned a complacent face on the outside world, remaining through it all the peacemaker, the kindly ruler who had taken in hand the governing of an ungrateful people, as his clever propagandists took care to make out, yet from the Mexicans, suffering under his yoke, the mask could scarcely serve to conceal his real character. Having once alienated the sympathies of the population, he had no choice but to govern by military and repressive methods. As an autocrat, he must use the great weapon of autocracy— force. To this end, a strong and efficient army was maintained, largely recruited from among political and other offenders. Indeed, it was a common practice to draft criminals into the army instead of sending them to prison. The training was severe, and the discipline exceptionally harsh. On the whole, the soldiers were treated rather worse than convicts.
Occasionally it happened that this system defeated its own ends, as in the case of Emiliano Zapata, the Mexican bandit, whose trained band (it was practically an army) strongly supported Madero in the overthrow of the Diaz government. For some petty acts of brigandage, Zapata was compelled to pass a term of fifteen years in the Mexican Army, where, apparently, he studied military tactics to good purpose.
Naturally, Diaz frowned upon the democratic element in the Republic. Nevertheless, the "revolutionary" ​principles smouldered throughout the land, bursting unbidden into flame, as, time after time, Diaz announced his intention of continuing in office for a further term. Various opposition movements and societies were inaugurated, the most notable and powerful being the Liberal Party, formed in 1900. Many prominent Mexicans were associated with one or other of these parties, and countless newspapers sprang up to support them.
Though unable utterly to crush all opposition, Diaz did everything in his power to suppress these Liberal tendencies, and in this he was seconded by the United States' agents, behind whom again we find the omnipotent dollars of the capitalists. Individuals associating themselves with progressive movements were thrown into prison, maltreated, tortured, or killed outright. There is a law in Mexico—the ley fuga, or law of flight—which permits the shooting of prisoners who have tried to escape. This very elastic measure was stretched to sanction the slaughter of anyone whom the authorities desired to be rid of. A widespread secret police system was of immense advantage to Diaz in the hunting down of political offenders, many of whom were never brought to trial at all, but fell victims to the knife of the assassin. If the fugitive crossed the border into the sister-republic, he was promptly flung back to the Mexican authorities, any frail pretext sufficing for this purpose.
Inevitably, under these circumstances, the democrats resorted to force of arms, and time and again Mexico was thrown into a state of chaos—the righteous if unorganised protest of a people against conditions well-nigh insupportable.
The utter inconsistency of Diaz's spoken sentiments with his actual policy may be judged from his announcement of 1908, declining (in his usual fashion) to enter upon an eighth term of office. He says: "I welcome an Opposition party in the Mexican Republic. If it appears, I will regard it as a blessing, not an evil. And if it can develop power, not to exploit, but to govern, I will stand by it, support it, advise it, and ​forget myself in the successful inauguration of complete democratic government in the country.” His method of dealing with Opposition parties can hardly be called a welcome.
This is but one instance of the hypocrisy of Diaz. He seems, indeed, to have led a sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde existence: to his own people, a tyrant of the worst type; to foreigners, a very pattern of the Presidential virtues. Partly, perhaps, out of ignorance regarding the true conditions prevailing in this unhappy country, partly out of self-interest, foreign statesmen and biographers praised Diaz, "the peacemaker," without stint.
Admiration of a kind is reluctantly accorded him. Shrewdness, intelligence were certainly his. He displayed a talent for diplomacy and political organisation which his opponents could not always equal. His character in private life was unblemished, save here and there a smirch of ingratitude, a blot of treachery to a friend. But it is by his public life that a public man must be judged, and, according to every right standard of government, Porfirio Diaz is surely one of the most lamentable failures in modern history.
The men who surrounded him—the Grupo Cientifico—have by this time achieved well-merited oblivion. But we may glance briefly at the pair who were his chief advisers or abettors.
Jose Yves Limantour, the Minister of Finance, one of Diaz's principal henchmen, was well known in European financial circles as one of the shrewdest and Limantour. most capable financiers of his day. To him the Diaz régime owed much, as without his business sagacity the development of the resources of the country could never have been undertaken in the highly successful manner which marked the rule of his party. Indeed, it is not too much to say that Limantour rescued Mexico from the bankruptcy which at one time certainly threatened it. He had, indeed, a genius for finance, and it ​is a pity that his country was not ultimately able to avail itself of his ability. Of French extraction, he was a Mexican born; was a close student of political economy; and, besides being a successful financier, was an exceedingly successful diplomat, as was demonstrated by more than one political visit to Europe. But, successful as he was, the Mexican public did not repose perfect confidence in Señor Limantour, whom they blamed for "juggling" with the finances of the country and finding public offices for so many of his friends. He became, along with Corral, one of the bêtes noirs of the Maderist party, who selected him as a special target for their fulminations against the "dictator" and all his satellites.
The Vice-President, Ramon Corral, was in his own way as strong a personality as Diaz. Shrewd, clever, and active, he combined his Vice-Presidency with the Ramon Corral. portfolio of Minister of the Interior. He was the first occupant of the vice-chair and, before being elected to it, had been Governor of the Federal District of Mexico city. Madero sought to show that, through this appointment, did Diaz die before his term of Presidency came to an end, the chief power would then vest in Corral, and the policy of one-man rule be perpetuated in his person. This, in fact, was one of Madero's strongest cards.
Again, thousands in Mexico had been for years groaning beneath the yoke of the slave-master. To talk of a slave system in connection with any modern Slavery in Mexico. nation claiming a degree of civilisation would seem absurd; and surely a Republic, where all men are nominally free and equal, should be the last community to tolerate within its bounds a system so barbarous, so utterly opposed to every Republican principle. Yet here, in Mexico, we find a state of things existent which was nothing else than slavery—slavery in its most crude and obvious shape, with all its revolting conditions and incidental horrors. A large proportion of the populace ​was involved in the system, and the peons, or peasantry, were but a degree more fortunately placed.
The words "slave" and "slavery" were not used, unless privately, by the Mexican slave-owners. Other and more convenient terms there were wherewith to designate the system. By a juggling with words and legal forms, they can keep to a certain extent within the letter of their elastic laws. Deportation as practised on the Yaqui Indians of Sonora is a legal proceeding, which fills the Yucatan peninsula with slaves, so completely the property of their masters, that they may be bought and sold, starved, beaten, treated with inhuman barbarity, and killed outright when they have ceased to be of value to these masters. Equally effectual for the procuring of slaves are the "legal" systems of contract labour and enforced service for debt. Nowhere in the world, perhaps, is the labourer more harshly repressed, more pitiably abject, than in Mexico; and it is an easy matter for the labour agent to inveigle him into signing a contract, fair enough at the first glance, in reality a bond of slavery. Once in the power of the slave-owners (the hennequen farmers of Yucatan, the owners of the great plantations of rubber, coffee, tobacco, and sugar-cane, in the Southern States), the labourer gets few wages or perhaps none. In lieu, a cheque is given him wherewith to purchase his requirements on the plantation. Nothing easier, therefore, than that he should fall into debt to his master, and a debt so incurred is seldom or never liquidated. The owner does not "sell" his slave; he simply transfers the debt and with it the compulsory services of his human property. But the shallowness of this pretence is shown by the fact that the "debt" is a fixed and invariable amount—or, rather, an amount which varies with the price of labour, and not with the circumstances of the particular case. When the supply of contract labour failed, kidnapping and other means of procuring slaves were resorted to, and the mask of legality thrown aside.
This disgraceful traffic in human lives was not only tolerated ​and condoned, but actually engaged in by the Diaz Government. It sanctioned the contract which condemned men, women, and even children, to torture and an early death; it gave assistance, in the shape of soldiers, rurales, police, to the hunting down of escaped slaves; it withheld punishment, where punishment was so greatly needed, for the barbarous ill-treatment and murder of these unfortunate creatures. Many of its high officials were themselves personally and actively concerned in the trade. The very procedures of law and justice were utilised for the purpose of procuring slaves. People were arrested on the least pretext, flung into prison, and quietly conveyed with a "contract labour" gang to the plantations. To protest was futile: there were none to whom an appeal might be made, for "the law," so-called, was on the side of the kidnappers—was, in fact, the arch-criminal. For its latitude and easy conscience, the Government received a substantial share of the profits of the slave-trade, and these we may suppose were not small.
As an indication of the extent to which this system of labour prevails, it may be mentioned that all over the Southern States the land is worked by slaves, or by peons whose condition is little better than that of slaves. True, the peon does not undergo the hideous suffering and degradation of the contract labourer, the deported Yaqui, the casual citizen arrested for some minor offence and dispatched to the plantations; yet with a system in force of compulsory service for debt, he is often equally little of a free agent, and his condition only less abject.
It is, however, the situation of the slave proper which most surely arouses pity and indignation. Travellers' tales are coloured with the horrors of those places where men, women, and children are herded together like cattle but treated far more brutally than cattle, for men, when they have spent their strength in the bitter service, are more easily replaced than kept alive, and it is not so with animals. Long hours of toil are theirs—they work from 4, 3, or even ​2 o'clock in the morning until late at night. Their food is of the coarsest, and scanty enough at that. The men are frequently and cruelly beaten with water-soaked ropes, the women and girls subjected to every indignity that barbarism can devise. Once in the power of the slave-owners, there is practically no way of escape. Should a labourer succeed in breaking away, he dares not venture near town or village, for the authorities are vigilant and eager to take and restore him. Human aid denied, he can scarcely hope to win subsistence from the barren wilds through which he must journey ere he reach "civilization.” Is it any wonder, then, that the final release comes quickly to these poor people?—that few but the hardiest outlast six months of bondage? The millionaire slave-owner looks on complacently. There are more, and still more, to replace those who die—and such labour is cheap.
So alarmed did men of liberal outlook in the Republic become at the possibility of another extended term of office on the part of the Diaz group, that many political clubs were organised, among them the Central Democratic Club, the programme of which included extended municipal powers, better educational facilities, the freedom of the Press, stricter enforcement of the laws against monastic orders, an employers' liability act, new agrarian laws, and measures granting greater personal liberty and the abolition of contract slavery. Many of the propagandists were imprisoned or banished, and their newspapers suppressed.
Francis I. Madero, the politician whose public spirit so greatly advanced Mexican democratic ideals, was a type of statesman by no means foreign to Latin-American politics. Madero.But although an opportunist to the finger tips, it cannot be said of him that his actions were not prompted by necessity and patriotism. A man of wealth and ability, belonging to a great family in Coahuila, a lawyer by profession, he first attracted public attention in the early part of 1910 by a ​remarkable book entitled The Presidential Succession, in which he mercilessly attacked the Diaz régime and the "Grupo Cientifico," or "Knowing Ones,” whose policy of "graft" had excited general distrust and discontent. In this straightforward work, he launched his thunders against Señor Limantour, the Minister of Finance, a man of French extraction, who had never had the confidence of the Mexican people, and who was, therefore, a mark for their special disapprobation. He also fulminated against the great land-owners of Mexico, those veritable hidalgos of the soil, whose pride and exactions have done much to arouse a hatred of the upper classes in the breast of the Mexican peon.
The reactionary movement of which Madero was the head was at first not levelled so much at Diaz himself as against his satellites, Limantour and Corral. But when it was announced that President Diaz would seek re-election, public feeling was strained to breaking point; and Madero, although almost unknown, speedily found himself surrounded by a party of resolute men who had fully determined to exclude the bureaucracy from another prolonged sojourn in office. They had before appealed to General Reyes—Madero's recent opponent for the Presidency—to combat the Diaz party, as his dislike to their methods was notorious. But he refused to lead an insurrection against constituted authority, and, indeed, before the Presidential campaign commenced, was sent to Europe on a military mission, so that the malcontents had perforce to be contented with Madero.
Madero was nominated, and at once commenced an active campaign, denouncing the Diaz administration, promising to examine and rectify abuses, and indicating to the people the danger of again permitting the aged President to hold office, because of the want of integrity of those who surrounded him. Madero lacked nothing of the energy, rhetoric, or courage of the typical demagogue, and quickly made himself popular with the masses, many of whom, smarting under the abuse of peonage and outrage, hearkened to his speeches as to those ​of a veritable saviour. There was only one thing necessary to complete his popularity, and that was that he should become the victim of the system he so strenuously denounced. With a disregard of consequences which proved absolutely fatal to themselves, the Diaz party arrested him in July, 1910, a few days before the election, whilst making a speech at Monterey, on the grounds that he had incited the populace to unrest. He was at once incarcerated, being kept in close confinement until the completion of the poll. The election ended in a complete triumph for the Diaz party.
Madero, rightly considering that Mexican soil was unsafe, made his way to the United States, whence he continued to incite his partisans to rebellion. The fire of revolution was kindled in the town of First Blood.Puebla, where the chief of police was assassinated by a female member of one of the many revolutionary societies in the provinces. The State of Chihuahua, roused to fury by the tyrannies and exactions of the great land-owning family of the Terrazas, flew to arms; and the fiery cross of revolt was dispatched from province to province with a rapidity that appalled and paralysed those in power. News of the condition of popular revolt which was daily growing in Mexico now began to reach Europe; but the Mexican authorities, fearful of their reputation, minimised the gravity of the situation.
In February, 1911, advices received by the Mexican Minister in Great Britain stated that with the exception of trouble in Chihuahua, the situation in Mexico was perfectly tranquil. The Minister said that news of the disorder in the far north of Mexico did not in any way indicate the existence of a revolutionary movement. The unrest was confined entirely to the State of Chihuahua, and was said to be due to the operations of bands of robbers who roamed about the almost inaccessible mountains along the Mexican-United States frontier. These had no special grievance against the Federal Government, their aim being to loot and raid ​wherever possible. The greater number of foreigners in the disturbed area were American miners, but there were also a smaller number of persons of other nationalities engaged in mining or cattle-raising. This guerilla trouble started after the Revolution of the preceding November, and the Federal Government dispatched from the capital General Novarro at the head of a force of nearly 3,000 cavalry and infantry. The President considered it necessary to put down these raids by means of a strong military force, but the difficulty was that the bands would not come out of their almost inaccessible hiding-places or make a regular stand. There was, however, every reason to believe that in a short time the bands would be dispersed.
The policy of the Government, added the Minister, in dealing very severely with the revolutionary leaders no doubt made it very difficult for the heads of these bands to surrender. Señor Madero, the leader of the November Revolution, was now in the United States, whither he had fled some time before. He was at this time endeavouring to carry on his propaganda from American territory. Most of the other leaders of the late movement were shot. Their capture was dramatic. It was discovered that five of the revolutionary leaders, including two women, were in one house. This was surrounded by 300 police and the Federal troops, but for several hours the few inmates kept their assailants at bay, until finally the house was rushed, and all except the two women were shot. So much for matters as outlined by the Mexican Minister.
In Great Britain, the lack of definite news regarding the rising in Mexico for some weeks was interpreted in certain quarters as an indication of a complete cessation of hostilities and a return to a condition of tranquility within the borders of the Republic. But private advices showed that the state of unrest was worse than before, and that insurgents had been gathering strength in the Northern provinces with the probable intention of proclaiming these always disaffected ​States as a separate Republic. In the United States, the situation was regarded as so serious that a Cabinet conference was convened to deal with the question of the preservation of neutrality, and no less than eleven troops of cavalry were dispatched to the Mexican border to augment the very considerable forces already stationed there.
The centre of insurgent unrest was Ciudad Juarez, a town of some importance near the United States border, which was menaced by a large insurrectionary force. In the mountainous country to the north of the State of Chihuahua, the rebels had an unrivalled base for their operations. So terrified were the authorities of Juarez at the approach of the insurgents, that they destroyed the powder magazine in order to prevent the supply it contained falling into the hands of the rebels, whose advance upon the town was marked by a victory over the Republican troops almost at its very doors. Upon the approach of the Insurrectos, as the insurgents were called, the bulk of the population took to flight, and it is difficult to understand what prevented the invaders taking immediate possession of the town, in which business was at a complete standstill. The numbers of insurrectos outside the town grew rapidly, and they drew a complete cordon round it; but these measures did not prevent Colonel Rabago, a Republican officer of experience, breaking through the Revolutionist lines one Sunday evening, with 300 men for the better garrisoning of Juarez. General Orozco, the insurgent leader, momentarily threatened to attack and bombard the town, which, through the panic-stricken act of destroying the Government supply of powder, was entirely at his mercy. The place had only some 500 defenders, another body of equal numbers which was coming to the rescue having been defeated and driven back by Orozco, and the transport train, which conveyed them, wrecked. The main idea of the insurgents appeared to be to seize Juarez and make it the seat of a Provisional Government.
​The area of unrest presented the greatest difficulties to the expeditious movement of troops. But one line of railway existed to convey them to the front, and in the temporary destruction of that the insurgents evidently found little difficulty, to judge from the news that they had wrecked a troop train which was conveying a large body of men to Juarez. Neither did the supply of arms seem to present any difficulties to the rebels, who by some mysterious means were enabled to equip themselves with modern weapons from an evidently inexhaustible source. This source of supply had always been one of the mysteries of the Mexican Border, and its origin will probably remain an insoluble secret.
Under cover of the general disorder, Madero returned from his exile. In May, 1911, a "Peace Conference" was held, at which the leaders of the North demanded Diaz’s resignation. The aged President, seeing Diaz Leaves Mexico.how the tide of popularity had set dead against him and his followers, acceded to the terms before the end of the month, and quitted Mexican soil for ever. A Provisional Government was installed under Señor de la Barra, and five months later a Presidential election was held on 2nd October, when Madero was chosen President without opposition.
Madero had entered Mexico city on 7th June, 1911, shortly after a terrific earthquake had shaken it to its very foundations. Several hundreds of the inhabitants were killed, and many of the principal buildings were totally wrecked. The superstitious Mexicans, seeing in the catastrophe a sign of the divine wrath, brought upon them for the expulsion of their President, prayed wildly for forgiveness at every street corner, and a terrible panic ensued. On the appearance of Madero some hours later, it is not surprising that he failed to receive the triumphal reception that he looked for.
Needless to say, the Mexican people were in high hope that the new conditions would bring them all they had asked for, and dissolve the political chains and shatter the ​disabilities under which they had groaned so long. But they were doomed to disappointment as bitter as it was unlooked for. Madero proved himself to be but a dwarf with a giant's voice—a talker, not a doer. Moreover, he surrounded himself with men of the same stamp—doctrinaires, people of no experience and less ability—so that the affairs of the country speedily became complicated and went from bad to worse. The National Debt leaped up in a most alarming fashion, and the Madero Government went through 160,000,000 pesos (£16,000,000) in two years without leaving anything to show for the money, or, indeed, even deigning to enter details of its expenditure in the Treasury accounts.
But there were many other causes for uneasiness as well as the rapidly rising national indebtedness. The Maderist Government, so far from favouring the introduction The Fall of Madero.of foreign capital into the Republic, were actively hostile to such a policy; moreover, they permitted bands of robbers and highwaymen to overrun parts of the country, a thing unknown in Mexico for more than a generation. General Felix Diaz, a nephew of the ex-President, sensing the discontent around him, raised the standard of revolt in an attempt to overthrow the Maderists, who, however, bribed the leading revolutionists so generously, that they abandoned the cause to which they had pledged themselves. General Diaz and General Reyes were taken prisoners, and later were incarcerated in Belem prison in Mexico city.
In February, 1914, however, a fresh revolt broke out. It was decided upon to strike a blow in the capital, the garrison of which was won over. By this time, everybody had become disgusted with the Maderist Government, especially when they saw the great apostle of popular freedom place over 100 of his relatives in Government offices. At dawn on Sunday morning, 9th February, the first cavalry regiment, along with two artillery regiments, left Tacubaya barracks for Mexico city, being reinforced on the way by ​another artillery regiment. Generals Diaz and Reyes were at once released with other prisoners, the citadel was seized with a valuable reserve of ammunition and other stores, and the revolt had begun in earnest.
The Mexican Sunday was in full progress as the troops swung into the great square followed by a cheering populace. The churches were emptying themselves, and the people were looking forward to the afternoon festivities which mark the Mexican "day of rest." As Reyes led his cavalry into the square, he observed that an infantry regiment was already occupying it, and he either thought that they were friendly or that they did not intend to offer any resistance. The cavalry and infantry faced one another, and for a good twenty minutes no hostile sign was given, crowds of people walking up and down between the two bodies of men and engaging in conversation with them. All at once a sharp order was given, the infantry raised their rifles to their shoulders, and fired at the mixed masses of cavalry and civilians in front of them. Simultaneously, two machine guns which had been mounted on the roof of the palace belched forth their leaden stream, cutting down scores of helpless men, women, and children. Reyes himself was killed instantaneously. The square was a bloody shambles, containing more than a thousand dead and wounded ere five minutes had passed. The survivors fled in wild panic, nor would any return to succour the wounded and dying. Night fell, and prowlers from Mexico's rookeries slinked into the square to rob the dead—nor did any man stay their hand.
At this time, Madero was at the Presidential residence of Chapultepec and, when he was apprised of these doings, he rode into the city at the head of his guard. At the national palace he met General Huerta, who was still, ostensibly at least, faithful to him. About midnight, he motored to Cuernavaca, where he met Zapata, a brigand chief, whom he attempted to bribe with the object of procuring his assistance and that of his followers. In this, ​however, he failed. Next morning, fighting began again. The foreigners in Mexico city asked both parties for assurances that the lives and property of their nationals would be respected. To this Diaz readily assented, but Madero gave no sign, so the various foreign colonies immediately organised a suitable protection for themselves. Hostilities proceeded apace. The citizens appeared absolutely apathetic, and even went quite close to watch the fighting between the Maderistas and Felixistas, as the followers of General Diaz were called. Many of them were shot down, but this failed to quench their curiosity. The slaughter and damage to property were immense. The military cadets shot their leader, Colonel Morelos, dead, for suggesting that they should surrender. The American consulate was almost wrecked by shells, and its inhabitants had an exceedingly narrow escape. As in the case of the Dublin revolt, men armed with rifles lay on the roofs of the houses firing at anybody who chanced to pass, and innocent women and children were shot dead, their bodies lying in the streets for days afterwards. The aboriginal savage that lurks behind the Mexican of the lower and middle classes had broken loose.
Neither side seemed able to make much headway. At last, Huerta met General Diaz at the citadel and agreed to join the Felixistas on the condition that he should be appointed Provisional President The Deflection of Huerta.of the Republic until such time as General Diaz should be elected by the suffrages of the people. This ended the insurrection. Madero, hearing the news, attempted to escape, accompanied by his brother Gustavo, and Suarez, the Vice-President, but all to no purpose. What precisely took place no one can say, but both Madero and Suarez were killed, under what circumstances it has never been made clear. It has been said that their bodies were left on the street where they were shot, but there is no direct proof that this was the case. Madero was a well-meaning but weakly politician, an idealist rather than a worker, ​a man who, to gain light and guidance in the conduct of political affairs, had recourse to spiritualism rather than to his own common sense. Had he been properly understood by the people he sought to govern, he certainly would never have occupied the position he did