THE PROTECTION OF AMIERICAN LIVES
AND PROPERTY
THE SONORA CRISIS OF 1915
Warrick Ridge Edwards
Tallahassee Community
College
Woodrow
Wilson entered office suspicious of material interests and opposed to economic
exploitation both at home and abroad. Those sentiments would be reflected, in
turn, in his highly personal response to the massive and ongoing Mexican
Revolution. Foreign concessionaires, he would charge, some of them American,
had monopolized the most productive lands in the Mexican Republic, ruthlessly
exploited its resources, and reduced its population to a mean and hopeless
peonage. The Mexican people, he asserted, were "entitled to attempt their
liberty from such influences." And while there had in fact been many
"serious wrongs" against the persons and property of Americans and
other foreigners in Mexico
since the onset of revolution, the government of the United States should in no way
attempt to suppress that struggle. Indeed, he declared that he would do
"everything in [his] power" to prevent it. "I am," he
concluded, "more interested in the fortunes of oppressed men and pitiful
women than in any property rights whatsoever. Mistakes I have no doubt made in
this perplexing business, but not in purpose or object."(1)
There were,
of course, many who differed with that assertion. Both within and without the
administration, there was great consternation over the president's
indiscriminate indictment of American and other foreign investors in Mexico. As it became evident that he himself had no intention of providing
truly effective protection for their properties or for the lives of those many
foreigners still resident in the republic, that concern would turn to dismay
and indignation. Within the administration itself
there was strong, even bitter disagreement with the president's position. To be
sure, both Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan and Secretary of the Navy
Josephus Daniels shared their chief's suspicion of, and antipathy toward, the
foreign investor in Mexico and would vigorously support his policy.(2) But few
of their colleagues, at any level of government, could reconcile themselves to
the president's position. Indeed, the principal opposition to that policy would
come from within Bryan's
own department and to a somewhat lesser degree from high-ranking naval officers
stationed in Mexican waters.
Robert
Lansing, department counselor and subsequently secretary of state in his own right,
was much distressed at the president's disregard for American property tights
in Mexico and even more so at the apparent abandonment of his countrymen
resident therein. In fact, he was inclined to intervene forcefully on their
behalf.(3) Lansing,
Josephus Daniels would observe, "held to the old diplomacy that encouraged
exploitation of small countries by American industrial captains. . .
." He was a disciple of
[Elihu] Root, "a Big Stick-Dollar Diplomacy" advocate who "just
naturally believed that the strong ought to rule."(4) And so too, in
varying degree, were assistant secretaries William Phillips and Frank Lyon
Polk, counselor Chandler P. Anderson, and Boaz Long and Leon J. Canova, the
chief and assistant chief respectively of the department's Division of Latin
American Affairs.(5) Together, then, those officials
would do all in their power to protect American lives and property below the
border. And they would go to great lengths indeed.
From early
1915 on, they would deliberately subvert presidential Mexican policy, collude
with Mexican reactionaries and the representatives of large American interests
in Mexico, and, in conjunction with those elements, seek to substitute and
implement an aggressive policy of their own making aimed at frustrating the
revolution and imposing a sort of Platt Amendment protectorate over the whole
of the Mexican Republic.(6) Rapidly deteriorating conditions in that country in
the spring of 1915 would provide them with the first of several opportunities
to realize those objectives.
By late May
of that year, the government in Washington was
under intense and mounting pressure both to relieve the foreign community in Mexico and to
stop the confiscation and destruction of foreign property there. Appalled at
the seemingly endless slaughter and devastation in the neighboring republic and
encouraged by interventionist elements within the administration itself, the
president on June 2 addressed a stern and ominous warning to the contending
factional leaders. They must halt the fighting in their country "within a
very short time," he insisted, or the government of the United States
would itself be "constrained" to do it for them .(7) Failure to
comply, it was clear, would be to invite massive armed intervention.
Suddenly
relations between the United States
and Mexico
had entered a new and highly sensitive phase. And until it passed, almost any
serious confrontation between the government in Washington
and either of the warring factions in Mexico would likely culminate in a
general Mexican-American conflict.
Although
there existed at the time a number of points of contention between the
government of the United States and one or the other of the several factional
leaders, none was more apt to lead to an explosive confrontation than was the
failure of Mexican authorities to provide effective protection to the large
foreign colony in the Yaqui Valley of southern Sonora. In imminent danger of
annihilation either by the rebellious Yaqui tribesmen or by xenophobic Mexican
soldiers, the several hundred American and other foreign settlers in that
district would remain highly vulnerable throughout that critical period in
Mexican-American relations.
Despite his
threat of June 2, for Woodrow Wilson, anxious to avoid further armed
intervention below the border, the situation in Lower Sonora constituted a most
serious and vexatious dilemma. Should Mexican authorities continue to deny
effective protection to the colony, a massacre of major proportions was all but
certain to occur. And that, in turn, was bound to
provoke at least regional American armed intervention and very likely war as
well. Should, however, the government in Washington
seek to employ American troops in defense of the settlements,
a clash with local Mexican forces was virtually a foregone conclusion. And,
again, war would most likely follow. Either way, it seemed, the continuing
crisis in Lower Sonora threatened to
precipitate precisely the sort of sanguinary confrontation that the president
so desperately hoped to avert. And interventionist elements, both within and
without the administration, would seek to turn it to their advantage.
The largest
of the American concerns located in the troubled district and the focal point
of Washington's
interest there was the Los Angeles-based Richardson Construction Company. That
firm, in turn, was the operating subsidiary of the Yaqui
Delta Land
and Water Company, a holding company capitalized at twelve million dollars and
tightly controlled by the New York
financiers John Hays Hammond and Harry Payne Whitney. By 1910, the Richardson interests had purchased from the Mexican
government some 1,200,000 acres in and around the fertile Yaqui
Valley and had been awarded virtually
unlimited use of the waters of the Yaqui
River. In return for
those rights the company was committed to construct and operate extensive
irrigation works in the valley and to foster regional development through the
sale of reclaimed land and water to Mexican and foreign colonists. Until Yaqui
raids and revolutionary disorder baited all construction in the valley, the
company had enjoyed considerable success in fulfilling its contractual
obligations.(8)
The
underlying cause of unrest in that district was the expulsion of the Yaqui
Nation from its traditional homeland in the valley and the disposal of its
lands to other parties. Constituting approximately a sixth of the state's
population, the Yaquis of Sonora were too numerous to subjugate.(9) When, in 1910, revolution swept the republic, they would
seek to avail themselves of the turmoil to throw off Mexican rule forever.
Determined to recover their ancestral lands and to establish an independent
Yaqui republic, the tribesmen allied themselves with first one faction and then
another in resolute pursuit of those objectives. In a relatively short time,
they had amassed a sizeable arsenal of modern weapons, earned a reputation as
the finest fighting men in Mexico, and acquired a position of considerable
power and influence in the Mexican northwest. Yet, despite repeated praises to
the contrary, their lands, including the coveted Yaqui Valley,
remained in other hands.(10) Out of patience and
distrustful of all Mexican factions, a large portion of the Yaqui Nation, the
so-called wild or broncho Yaquis, rose in open revolt against all Mexican
authority. Well-armed, clandestinely supported by their ostensibly pacified or
manso kinsmen, and most capably led by the chieftains Luis Espinosa and Juan
Jose Sibalaume, they sought to drive Mexicans and foreigners alike from the
Yaqui Valley and from all other tribal lands.(11) They would very nearly
succeed in that endeavor.
By the
beginning of 1915, the Yaqui rebellion in Sonora had assumed crisis proportions.
Villista governor Jose Maria Maytorena, dependent upon a local garrison
composed in large part of manso mercenaries, was
unable to quell the uprising. Yaqui soldiers in Mexican employ could not be
counted upon to serve against their rebellious kinsmen. Indeed, some smuggled
arms and ammunition to the insurgents, and not a few of them covertly joined
the bronchos in operations against their common oppressor. Thus by the spring
of 1915, when the raiding spread southward into the Yaqui Valley, state
authorities were all but powerless to stop it.(12) Ile colonists were on their
own.
Early in
May, an estimated 500 raiders struck hard at the foreign settlements in Lower Sonora. Emerging from their stronghold in the
nearby Sierra de Bacatete, they forded the Yaqui River,
rode across the valley, and suddenly fell upon the colonists in the southern
tier of farms and ranches. Several Americans and a large number of Mexicans
were killed, and for some days thereafter those who escaped were engaged in a
fierce struggle for survival.(13) Eventually the
Yaquis themselves broke off the attack. But they would return, they warned, and
soon; and when they did, they would kill every Mexican and American who
remained.(14) Terrified, the colonists turned in
desperation to Washington.
The governor, they declared, could not or would not protect them. Their only
hope lay in United States
marines.(15)
Alarmed at
the prospect of a general massacre of Americans in Sonora and appalled at the
probable effect of such an outrage on subsequent Mexican-American relations,
Secretary Bryan reluctantly requested the dispatch of United States warships to
the Yaqui delta.(16) Accordingly, Admiral Thomas B.
Howard was instructed to proceed at once to the Gulf of California to
investigate the disturbance ashore. In the meantime, the cruiser Raleigh
dropped anchor off Tobari
Bay. And there it would
remain, its crew at the ready to take off the settlers, until the crisis in the
valley had passed.(17)
The
settlers, however, were by no means prepared to withdraw. Heavily invested in
the colonization venture, they would fight if necessary to protect their
holdings. And they both expected and demanded that the government in Washington assist them.
Established around the station of Esperanza, some 30 miles inland from the sea,
they derived no comfort whatsoever from the warship at Tobari Bay.
It was marines they wanted, and they wanted them stationed permanently in the
valley.(18)
Accordingly,
early in June, H. A. Sibbett, vice-president and general manager of the
Richardson Construction Company, traveled to Washington to appeal in person to officials
of the Department of State. In Leon J. Canova, the department's acknowledged
authority on Mexican affairs, be found an interested and enthusiastic supporter.(19)
Canova, of
course, sympathized strongly with American investors in Mexico, but he
was moved by other considerations as well. Closely associated with leaders of
the Mexican exile community and at the moment deeply involved in
counterrevolutionary intrigue, Canova was the most aggressively interventionist
of all administration officials. A persistent advocate of American domination
of Mexico, he welcomed any development which might bring about an imposed
settlement of the civil war and the establishment of an American protectorate
over the republic.(20) Indeed, it was Canova who was in large part responsible
for the recent hardening of the president's policy toward that Country.(21) He
would do what he could, then, for the Richardson interests and for the other
American investors in Sonora, and should his efforts ultimately precipitate a
major regional intervention and a new Mexican-American confrontation, then so
much the better. Admiral Howard would show him the way.
On June 3,
Admiral Howard reported that the Indians had recrossed the river in force and
were at the moment laying waste to the last vestiges of settlement in the
southern portion of the valley. The colonists, supported by some fifty of
Maytorena's soldiers, had refused to withdraw. Instead, they had ignored the
governor's advice to depart the valley and had rejected his every offer of an
escort to the sea. Their stubbornness had rendered the matter of their
protection a most difficult and vexatious problem, the admiral complained, and
under his present orders there was little he could do to assist them.(22)
It had been
suggested by the colonists, he continued, as well as by a number of his
subordinate commanders, that the only effective solution to the problem at hand
was the establishment of a permanent American garrison in the Yaqui Valley.
He could not, however, in good conscience endorse that proposal. lie was willing enough to risk his men to save American
lives, Howard declared, but he objected strongly to sacrificing them "for
the purpose of protecting property." And there would be losses, he assured
his superiors. A campaign against the broncho Yaquis would be similar to the
earlier Apache campaigns but considerably more difficult. Not only would the
marines be operating in unfamiliar territory, but in an area in which the Mexican
population too was strongly antagonistic to Americans. Unquestionably, a clash
with the broncho Yaquis would be a costly and ugly affair.(23)
Howard was
also much concerned over possible Mexican reaction to so blatant a violation of
national sovereignty. In view of the president's recent warning to the several
factional leaders, occupation of the Yaqui
Valley might well be
misconstrued as the first phase of massive American intervention. That, in
turn, could well mean war. All things considered, the admiral opposed
occupation of the valley. Should, however, the administration still choose to
adopt such a course, considerably more than the 500 troops requested by the
colonists would be required. It would take "at least a regiment," he
believed, "with field and machine guns" to secure the settlements
from attack.(24) Unlike his fellow officers, Howard
had the highest regard for the prowess of the Yaqui soldier. He had no
illusions of a quick and easy victory over so formidable a foe.
Personally,
the admiral preferred to respond to the Indian menace by strengthening the
naval patrol off the Yaqui delta and by extending to subordinate commanders
there discretionary authority to employ their forces ashore.(25) Yet even that
limited response would in the event of new raids on the settlements most
assuredly end in armed intervention. Sooner or later, through their own
intransigence, the colonists would find themselves faced with imminent
annihilation. When that critical moment arrived, it would be difficult indeed
for Howard or any other American commander to turn a deaf ear to their pleas.
Almost certainly, if the admiral had his way, the colonists would have their
marines anyway. And Canova and his colleagues, theretofore frustrated for want
of an immediate rationale for intervention, would at last have the crisis they
sought.
Canova, of
course, grasped the situation at once, and in advising his superiors on Mexican
matters, he appears to have given the strongest possible endorsement to Howard's
recommendations. Certainly Sibbett was much impressed with Canova's performance
and came away from the Department of State convinced that he was doing all that
was possible to protect American lives and property in Sonora.(26)
While the
agent for the Richardson
interests continued to work through the Division of Latin American Affairs, his
associates elsewhere sought the assistance of still other influential
officials. From his offices in New York,
Frederic N. Watriss, president of the Yaqui Delta
Land and Water Company
and spokesman for the Hammond-Whitney group, addressed a fraternal appeal to
fellow Harvard alumnus, Assistant Secretary of State William Phillips. Moving
quickly to the point, Watriss revealed to "Brother Phillips" that the
principal investor in the Yaqui
Valley enterprise was
none other than Harry Payne Whitney. It had occurred to him, Watriss explained,
that "in view of the services, material and otherwise, which Whitney and
his Father before him [had] always rendered to the Democratic Party," that
knowledge in turn "might stimulate the Department to some further
effort" on behalf of the Whitney interests in Mexico.(27)
Duly
impressed, Phillips immediately consulted Canova. Forwarding Watriss's letter
to the Latin American Division, he inquired of his subordinate whether the
department was indeed doing all that it might on behalf of the party in
question. It most certainly was, Canova replied.(28)
In fact, he had just discussed the matter with the secretary of state, who, in
turn, was even then preparing to bring it to the attention of the president
himself. Satisfied, Phillips took no further action. Having conveyed his
information to those persons best able to use it to advantage, he would await
the results of Lansing's report to the president
before advising his correspondent in New
York.
The
following day, June 12, while Yaqui raiders again swept through the valley, Lansing did advise the president on the situation in Lower Sonora. The Indians there, he related, had stated
their intent to "wipe out" the entire American, colony. Local Mexican
authorities could not, or would not, afford the settlements adequate
protection, and the colonists themselves could not be induced to leave. It was
a most serious and perplexing dilemma, he implied, and unless some
precautionary measures were taken by the administration itself, "the loss
of many American lives [might] be expected." Admiral Howard, he continued,
had recommended maintaining an expeditionary force in the Gulf
of California. Once in place, such a force could be used to great
advantage to protect the lives of American and other foreign colonists in the
area. In the event of a "positive emergency,"
several hundred marines might be rushed inland to relieve the settlements and,
if necessary, to escort the colonists to the sea. Meanwhile, he
suggested, the admiral might send a wireless team, disguised as civilians, into
the American colony. It was imperative, he explained,
that the naval patrol offshore be advised instantly should the Yaquis again
descend upon the settlements. Under the circumstances, the secretary concluded,
Howard's plan seemed "the only safe action," and it was evident that
he himself strongly endorsed it.(29) Canova, it would
appear, had done his work well.
So,
too, had Lansing. Clearly impressed with the urgency
of the situation, the president replied within hours. It was obvious, he
tersely informed the secretary, that the course recommended by Howard was
"necessary." Accordingly, Lansing
was to meet with the secretary of the navy and to coordinate with him both the
'disposition of forces' and the issue of the equipment proposed.(30) On the
following day, accompanied by an undoubtedly jubilant Canova, the secretary
complied."(31)
The
outgrowth of the conference of June 15 was the adoption by the Department of
State of a self-proclaimed "vigorous policy' for the protection of
American lives and property in the Yaqui
Valley."
Accordingly, in a strongly worded communiqué to the governor of Sonora, Lansing
insisted that he dispatch additional troops to the valley and take whatever
measures were necessary to secure the settlements there from attack. Failure to
do so, Lansing warned, would leave the United States
no choice but to land an expeditionary force in the Yaqui delta.(33)
Nor was the
secretary bluffing. On June 16, Admiral Howard was ordered to proceed at once
to the port of Guaymas. Accompanying him aboard the
cruiser Colorado
was an expeditionary force composed of 600 marines and bluejackets. The
flagship was to be joined at Guaymas by the cruisers Raleigh, Chattanooga, and New Orleans, with a combined
complement of 1100 men. The decision to go ashore and to advance to the relief
of the settlements was left solely to Howard's discretion. It was understood,
however, that the admiral was not to disembark his forces unless conditions
around Esperanza rendered such action "absolutely necessary."(34)
While
Admiral Howard prepared to sail for Guaymas, William Phillips drafted a belated
reply to his classmate in New York.
In a surprisingly candid discussion of a highly sensitive matter, the assistant
secretary disclosed in detail administration plans for coping with the
anticipated Yaqui strikes in the valley. Both he and his colleagues, he
explained to Watriss, were convinced that a naval demonstration off Guaymas
would in itself be sufficient to "spur" state authorities to defend
the American colony. Should, however, the governor still refuse to cooperate
and a genuine emergency arise, United
States naval forces would most certainly
intervene. Under no circumstances, he implied, were officials in Washington prepared to permit the massacre of their
countrymen in Sonora.
Yet intervention would undoubtedly engender the most bitter
animosity toward the Americans in the valley. Consequently, Phillips explained,
should Howard be forced to land his marines, officials in Washington would
expect the colonists to withdraw voluntarily from the country and to remain
away for whatever length of time it took to restore order in that portion of
the republic. And they would expect Watriss and his associates to encourage
tills action.(35)
"Brother
Watriss," however, would do nothing of the sort. With some half-million
dollars worth of rice, wheat, and other crops approaching maturity on company
lands alone, he and other investors in the Richardson project had an immense
stake in the forthcoming harvest. And all would be lost should the settlers
withdraw from the valley. Even brief neglect of the project's irrigation works
would likely result in extensive crop failure. Yaqui raiders would do the rest:
what they failed to carry off for their own use, they would most assuredly put
to the torch. Watriss, then, had no intention of encouraging evacuation of the
valley. On the contrary, he would do all in his power to prevent it. Secretary
Phillips, inadvertently it would seem, had considerably strengthened his hand.
For weeks
the colonists had been on the verge of abandoning the settlements. Shaken by
the deaths of their comrades, appalled at the prospect of still greater raids
to come, and despairing of effective protection from either Maytorena or the
government in Washington, more than a few of them had already quit the country.
Those who remained behind experienced the most acute anxiety. The sure
knowledge that sooner or later they must face a major Yaqui
offensive--isolated, poorly armed, and, upon the resumption of hostilities, cut
off from escape by sea--was profoundly demoralizing.(36) Indeed, a visitor to
the valley reported the settlers there were all but paralyzed by fear, 'afraid
to do anything, even to protect themselves."(37) Unquestionably, then,
many among them were contemplating withdrawal. There is, in fact, every
indication that had administration officials firmly resisted external pressures
to act on behalf of the colony, most if not all of the Americans there would
soon have departed the valley. As a consequence, the recurring crises in that
district, at the moment the most serious threat to peace between the neighboring
republics, would have ceased. Phillips' correspondence with Watriss had
drastically altered that situation.
In seeking
to reassure the Hammond-Whitney group, the assistant secretary dispelled
whatever doubts existed in the minds of investors and settlers alike regarding
the administration's commitment to protect American interests in Sonora. The government,
he implied, not only acknowledged the legitimacy of the American presence in
the valley but was prepared to uphold it as well.(38)
It had no intention of abandoning the colony to its fate. Whether the settlers
agreed to leave the valley or not, in the event of a genuine emergency, they
could count on the fleet marines.(39) And in
disclosing that bit of privileged information, Phillips irreparably subverted
presidential policy in the matter.
Heartened
immeasurably by what they assumed to be an official pledge of emergency relief,
a determined majority of the colonists resolved to stay on in the valley.(40) From what point on, even temporary evacuation was all
but out of the question. While the colonists themselves began preparations for
the anticipated Yaqui offensive, their associates in the United States moved at once to exploit what they
perceived as a new and more receptive mood in Washington. Not content with assurances of
protection for their people in the valley, they sought guarantees for their
property as well. For months thereafter they would petition vigorously for the
establishment of a permanent American garrison at Esperanza.
Maytorena,
meanwhile, had finally responded to Lansing's
ultimatum. With some 5000 armed Yaquis raiding at will over the greater part of
the state, he could ill afford to spare a large body of troops to garrison
Esperanza. Nonetheless, doubtless because of the forcefulness of the American
demand, the governor grudgingly agreed to send token reinforcements to the
valley.(41)
On June 18,
General Sosa and 150 men entrained at Guaymas for Esperanza. They never reached
their destination. Yaquis attacked the train within sight of the settlement,
killing and wounding most of its occupants and forcing the survivors to retreat
in panic up the line. Under the circumstances, the New York Times
solemnly concluded, the 'only hope' for the Americans in Lower
Sonora was intervention by Howard's marines.'(42)
Officials in
Washington
concurred. At Lansing's behest the commander of
the Raleigh, whose vessel again stood off Tobari Bay,
was instructed to rush a heliograph team inland to Esperanza. Ile moment the
colonists were threatened, word was to be flashed to the cruiser. With or
without Maytorena's approval, American forces would move at once to the rescue.(43)
Similar
instructions were conveyed to Howard at Guaymas. The admiral was to proceed
immediately to Tobari
Bay. In the event of an
attack on the settlements, he was to relieve the colonists there and escort
them safely to the coast. Under no circumstances, however, was he to linger in
the Yaqui Valley. A prolonged occupation of
Mexican territory, it was feared, could have the most serious consequences.(44)
And, indeed,
they had cause for concern. On June 19, Maytorena announced that 1000 men would
be sent to the Yaqui
Valley to defend the
foreign settlements. Those same men, however, had been ordered to resist with every
means at their command any attempt to land American troops on Mexican soil.(45)
Then, on June 21, Admiral Howard met at Guaymas with General Leyva,
commander-in-chief of Mexican forces in southern Sonora. State authorities, the
general conceded, sympathized with the American dilemma and could understand
the necessity of dispatching a relief expedition to the valley. The Mexican
people, however, would unquestionably 'misunderstand' such a move and deeply
resent it. Moreover, Leyva warned, even minimal American intervention in that
district would provoke still more of the Yaqui Nation to take up arms against
the foreign community in Lower Sonora. And
there would be "trouble" for Americans "all along the
coast."(46)
The
following day, a worried Howard conferred once again with the general.
Communications with the colonists had been restored, he learned, and General
Sosa with a large body of troops was even then moving into the valley. For the
moment, it seemed, the colony was secure.
But Leyva's
mood had turned decidedly hostile. The colonists, he asserted, should leave the
state at once, and he expressed impatience and indignation at their persistent
refusal to do so. Their very presence on Mexican soil, he suggested, had become
a serious provocation; indeed, it was the principal cause of unrest in his
district. Ultimately, he feared, it would lead to a most serious
Mexican-American confrontation.
General
Sosa's command, composed in large part of manso Yaquis, was undisciplined and
antagonistic toward Americans and could not be depended upon to defend the
settlements. Sooner or later, then, Leyva believed, Howard would be forced to
intervene. When he did, the general warned, Sosa's troops and, by implication,
those of his own command would vigorously resist.(47)
It would, of course, be most difficult to contain such a conflict once
hostilities had begun. Under the circumstances, it could go badly indeed for
the hundreds of American citizens scattered throughout the State of Sonora and especially so
for the colonists at Esperanza. There was little, however, that Howard could do
to placate the general or to otherwise reduce tension. He had his orders, and
on June 23 he proceeded to Tobari
Bay. There he waited,
poised to intervene.
The
colonists, meanwhile, continued to spurn their own government's advice to
withdraw from the valley. Instead, they reiterated their demand that American
troops be sent out to protect them.(48) On June 24,
George C. Singletary, president of the Sonora Land and Investment Company,
wired Lansing directly to complain bitterly of the lack of support from
Washington and to warn of still another grave threat to the lives and property
of his countrymen in Yaqui territory. General Sosa's troops, he had learned,
were themselves preying upon American and other foreign inhabitants of the
valley. Far from affording protection, the soldiers constituted a most serious
menace to every foreigner there. Immediately upon entering the valley, they had
descended upon outlying settlements, looting private homes, abusing their
residents, and drawing their weapons on those persons bold enough to protest.
His employees there, Singletary feared, "were in as great danger for their
lives" from the Mexicans as they were from the broncho Yaquis. The
administration, he angrily asserted, was obligated to protect the Americans in
the valley, and he insisted that it do so at once. Failure to provide that
protection, he feared, would result in death for the lot of them.(49)
In the
meantime, the Americans in the valley would look to their own defense. By the
time that Howard arrived off Tobari
Bay, the colonists had
sent all but a few of their dependents out of the country, barricaded their
homes, and begun preparations for a lengthy siege. Of the original 300 or more
American settlers in the valley, only some l00 remained. But those who stayed
on were by then adequately armed, situated in strong defensive positions, and
supported by a sizeable number of German and Mexican colonists. Moreover, they
were all aware of the Raleigh 's
continued presence offshore and, since Phillips' indiscretion, of the true
nature of her mission as well. They chose, then, to gamble, and the Raleigh was their
trump card. They would stay on in the valley regardless of the odds against them.(50)
Clearly, by
late spring of 1915, the foreign settlements in Lower Sonora
had become more than a mere embarrassment to Mexican and American officials;
indeed, they constituted a most serious liability to Washington and to the two Mexican factions as
well. So long as they remained, intervention and a major Mexican-American
conflict might occur at any time. That fact, in turn, was a matter of acute
concern to the president of the United
States. Despite his recent threat to impose
order throughout the neighboring republic, Woodrow Wilson entertained the most
serious misgivings over again intervening below the border. Too, by late June,
administration officials had learned of an as yet, ill-defined German scheme to
provoke a general war between the United States
and Mexico.
Already, then, the president had begun to reassess his position with regard to
a dictated settlement of the Mexican civil war and to restrain his more
aggressive subordinates from any act that might provoke an armed confrontation
with Mexico.
Thus when
Admiral Howard, dismayed at the recent turn of events in the Yaqui Valley,
suddenly reversed his position and called for American occupation of the
settlements, Wilson himself acted at once to veto the plan.(51)
He thought such a move "unwise," he advised the secretary of the
navy, and so too, in retrospect, Lansing's proposal to send a wireless team to
the colony. Indeed, he concluded, upon reviewing the overall situation in Mexico, he
believed it best to revert to the "original plan of merely offering to
bring [the] settlers out."(52) Mexico," he would remark some
months later, "believes that we want to possess her. . . . " And she was justified in that belief by the
attempts of certain American investors "to exploit her privileges and
possessions." For his part, he declared, he would not "serve the
ambitions" of those gentlemen.(53) Under no
circumstances, it is clear, was the president prepared to employ American
troops to secure the property of the likes of Hammond, Watriss, and Whitney,
archetypes, in his mind, of the avaricious and exploitative concessionaires
that he had denounced from the earliest days of his administration.
Josephus
Daniels, of course, wholeheartedly concurred. Adamantly opposed to further
intervention in Mexico on any grounds, the secretary had been appalled at the
extension of discretionary authority to Admiral Howard.(54)
Unquestionably, then, he was delighted with the president's decision and lost
no time in transmitting it to the admiral at Tobari Bay.(55) For the moment, at least, the drift
toward United States intervention in Sonora had been arrested.
***
Dr. Warrick
R. Edwards received his Ph.D. from Louisiana
State University
in United States History with a concentration in foreign relations and economic
history. His dissertation was "United States-Mexican Relations, 1913-1916:
Revolution, Oil, and Intervention." He has taught at Louisiana
State University,
Newberry College,
the University of Southern Mississippi, and Central
Florida Community
College; he has been affiliated with Tallahassee Community
College since 1991. Dr. Edwards is a co-author of
the forthcoming Politics and the Penitentiary, a study on the political
economy of the Mississippi
penal system.
ENDNOTES
1. Ray
Stannard Baker and William E. Dodd, eds., The Public Papers of Woodrow
Wilson, 6 vols. (New York, 1925-27), 2: 284-86, 340 [hereafter cited as PPWW].
2. Richard
Challener, Admirals, Generals, and American Foreign Policy, 1898-1914
(Princeton, NJ, 1973), 382-83; David Cronon, Josephus Daniels in Mexico
(Madison, WI, 1960), 10-12.
3. Clifford
Trow, "Woodrow Wilson and the Mexican Interventionist Movement of
1919," Journal of American History 58 (June 1971), 57, 66; Richard
M. Abrams, "United
States Intervention Abroad: The First
Quarter Century," American Historical Review 79 (Feb. 1974), 93;
Josephus Daniels, The Wilson Era: Years of
Peace, 1910-1917 (Chapel Hill, NC, 1944), 439.
4. Ibid.
5. Warrick
R. Edwards, "United States-Mexican Relations, 1913-1916: Revolution, Oil,
and Intervention," (Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Louisiana State
University, 1971), 258-70, 277-81, 500-03; P. Edward Holey, Revolution and
Intervention. The Diplomacy of Taft and Wilson with Mexico,
1910-1917 (Cambridge, MA, 1970), 245-46.
6. Trow,
"Woodrow Wilson and the Mexican Interventionist Movement of 1919,"
46-72; Emily Rosenberg, "Economic Pressures in Anglo-American Diplomacy in
Mexico,"
Journal of Interamerican Studies and World Affairs 17 (May 1975): 125,
133-34. For specific examples, see Long to Lansing, July 8, 1916, National
Archives, Record Group 59, General Records of the Department of State, File
number 812.00120688 (hereafter cited as DS followed by file number); and Canova
to Lansing, Feb. 14, 1916, Papers of Frank Lyon Polk, Yale University Library.
7. New
York Times, June 3, 1915.
8. John Hays
Hammond, The Autobiography of John Hays Hammond, 2 vols. (New York, 1935), 2:
741-46; Herbert A. Sibbett, "Facts and Documents Relative to the
Development of the Yaqui Valley and Particularly to Davis Richardson,"
n.d., Compania Constructors Richardson, S. A. Papers, University of Arizona
Library; Testimony of Frederic N, Watriss, United States Senate,
"Investigation of Mexican Affairs," Preliminary Report and
Hearings of the Committee an Foreign Relations, Senate Document No. 285. 2 vols., 66th Cong., 2nd Sess. (Washington, 1920), 1: 426-35.
9. Edward H.
Spicer, Cycles of Conquest: The Impact of Spain,
Mexico and the United States
on the Indians of the Southwest, 1533-1960 (Tucson, AZ, 1962), 68-81; Evelyn
Hu-Dehart, "Development and Rural Rebellion: Pacification of the Yaquis in
the Late Porfiriato," Hispanic-American Historical Review 54 (Feb.
1974), 76-93.
10. Susan M.
Deeds, "Jose Maria Maytorena and the Mexican Revolution in Sonora," (Part 1), Arizona and the West 18 (Spr.
1976): 34-36; General Frederick Funston to the Adjutant General, May 19, 1915,
DS 812.00/15074.
11. Ibid.;
Spicer, Cycles of Conquest, 82-83.
12.
Frederick Simpich (consul at Nogales) to Bryan, May 14, 1915, DS
312.11/6008.
13. Charles
F. O'Brien to Bryan, May 12, 1915, DS 312.11/5950; Harry Grigsby to George C.
Singletary, May 26, 1915, DS 312.11/6208; Herbert A. Sibbett to Bryan, June 10,
1915, DS 312.11/6152; Los Angeles Times, May 21, 1915.
14. Sibbett
to Lansing, June 10, 1915, DS 312.11/6152; Commander T. P. Magruder (U.S.S. RALEIGH) to Josephus
Daniels, May 26, 1915, DS 812.00/15204.
15. O'Brien
to Bryan, May 12, 1915, DS 312.11/5950; W. E. Richardson to Bryan, May 14, 1915, DS 312.11/5963.
16. Bryan to
Daniels, May 13, 1915, DS 312.11/5950; Los
Angeles Times, May 15, 16, 1915.
17
Ibid.
18. O'Brien
to Bryan, May 12, 1915, DS 312.11/5950; Richardson to Bryan, May 14, 1915, DS
312.11/5963.
19.
Frederic N. Watriss to William Phillips, June 10, 1915, DS 312.11/6189; Sibbett
to Lansing, June 16, 1915, DS 312.11/6312½.
20.
"Haley, Revolution and Intervention, 182; Rosenberg,
"Economic Pressures in Anglo-American Diplomacy In
Mexico," 125, 133-34;
Canova to Lansing,
Feb. 14, 1916, Polk Papers.
21. Edwards,
"United States-Mexican Relations, 1913-1916," 235-56.
22. Howard
to Daniels, June 3, 1915, DS 312.11/5804½A; Howard to Daniels, Papers of
Josephus Daniels, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, Container 109,
File: "Special Correspondence, Woodrow Wilson Correspondence with
JD."
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid.;
Lansing to Wilson,
June 12, 1915v DS 312.11/5804½A.
26. Watriss
to Phillips, June 10, 1915, DS 312.11/6189; Sibbett to Lansing, June 16, 1915,
DS 312.11/6312½.
27. Watriss
to Phillips, June 10, 1915, DS 312.11/6189.
28.
Phillips, to Canova, June 11, 1915, Ibid,;
Canova to Phillips, June 11, 1915, Ibid.
29. Lansing to Wilson,
June 12, 1915. DS 312.11/5804½A.
30. Wilson
to Lansing,
June 14, 1915, DS 312.11/5805½.
31.
Memorandum, June 15, 1915, Ibid.
32. New
York Times, June 17, 1915.
33. Ibid.;
Tucson Citizen, June 16, 17, 1915.
34. Ibid.;
Daniels to Howard, June 18, 1915, Daniels Papers, Container 537, File: "Mexico,
1915-1917."
35. Phillips
to Watriss, June 16, 1915, DS 312.11/6189.
36. Simpich
to Bryan , May 21, 1915, DS 312.11/6051.
37. B. F.
Brunk to Lansing, June 21, 1915, DS 312.11/6202; Tucson Citizen, June
22, 1915.
38. Phillips
to Watriss, June 16, 1915, DS 312.11/6189.
39. Ibid.
40. Sibbett
to Lansing, June 16, 1915, DS 312.11/6312½; Tucson Citizen, June
22, 28, 1915.
41. New
York Times, June 19, 22, 1915.
42. Simpich
to Lansing,
June 20, 1915, DS 312.11/6200; Tucson Citizen, June 20, 1915; New
York Times, June 22, 1915.
43. Ibid.
44. Ibid., Tucson
Citizen, June 22, 1915; Daniels to Howard, June 18, 1915, Daniels Papers,
Container 537, File: "Mexico,
1915-1917."
45. Tucson Citizen,
June 19, 191 5; New York Times, June 20, 1915.
46. Ibid.,
June 23, 1915; Howard to Daniels, June 21, 1915, Daniels Papers, Container 537,
File: "Mexico,
1915-1917."
47. New
York Times, June 23, 1915.
48. Ibid.
49.
Singletary to Lansing,
June 24, 1915, DS 312.11/6224.
50. Tucson Citizen,
June 22, 1915; New York Times, June 23, 1915.
51. Wilson to Daniels, June
28, 1915, Daniels Papers, Box
109, File: "Special Correspondence, Woodrow Wilson
Correspondence with JD."
52. Ibid.
53. PPWW, 2:
231.
54. Cronon,
Josephus Daniels in Mexico,
10_ 1 2.
55. Daniels
to Wilson, June
28, 1915, Daniels Papers, Box
109, File: "Special Correspondence, Woodrow Wilson
Correspondence with JD."
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