Atrocity

In Mexico City, huge identic headlines screamed from El Universal Grafico and El Excelsior, news of an atrocity unparalleled: the burning alive by rebels in a locked and kerosene-soaked railway train of 100 passengers, including Senora Refugia Obregon Ponce de Leon, eldest daughter of onetime (1920-24) Mexican President Alvaro Obregon.

Mexicans gasped with incredulity, then read in heavy type: Official Bulletin of the Presidential Staff.

The sensation approached that to be expected at Washington should the White House Spokesman announce that a daughter of onetime (1909-13) President Taft had been locked into a Pennsylvania railway train by strikers at Passaic, N. J., and burned to death.

Everywhere, friends of Senor Obregon despatched their condolence by mail, wire, cable. Moved, they recalled the happy girlhood of Refugia Obregon on her father's huge ranch in Sonora. They remembered her love of animals, her tame pig, her ponies, her intelligent parrot, "Chi-Chi," whom she taught to ask for food politely in Spanish and English. Last week, they mused sorrowfully, she was barely 20, just entering the flower of her womanhood, a devoted wife to her spruce, fashionable husband, Colonel Ponce de Leon. . .

Before details of the atrocity were availa^e through press channels, War Minister Joaquin Amaro gave out the story verbally,, in lurid fashion:

"Mexico has just witnessed a hecatomb--the like of which it has never before witnessed in its history. It is a crime without name, such as never before was perpetrated by any rebel faction. It has left the entire republic stupefied by its savagery.

"As the Guadalajara-Mexico City Express neared La Barca, in Jalisco, it ran at full speed upon two rails from which attacking Indians had removed the spikes, and crashed to a sudden stop. . . .

"The object of th,e attack was the soldier train guards, but the infuriated hillsmen dealt death to everyone in the line of fire. Of the passengers in the two second class cars, numbering over 100, scarcely one escaped injury or death, because about these cars raged the most intense fury of the battle, since from them the soldier guards defended the train. These wooden cars were perforated as though cardboard, by bullets from the high power rifles of the peasants, who appeared magnificently armed. . . .

"The battle was in semidarkness, for the moon had not yet risen and the train cars were not lighted.

Toward the end of the ghastly scene the moon began to rise, and in the obscure light the commanding form of a priest in priestly robes could be seen urging on the hillsmen to the work of destruction. . . .

"Amid the shrieking of women, crying of children and shouts of desperation of the men on the doomed train, the battle went on. No quarter was given or asked for, and the soldier train guards went to their death one after another, fighting desperately. It was an uneven fight to the last. . . .

"Then the work of destruction began. The safe was broken open in the express car and the contents, amounting to $200,000 in gold and silver coin, was extracted.

"Apparently the work of destruction was deliberately planned and deliberately carried out. It was a crusade of vengeance for the execution two weeks ago of Catholic plotters in Guadalajara. The Rev. J. M. Vega, a priest well known in Guadalajara, who led the hills-men, said to passengers who spoke to him while the pillage was continuing: 'The hand of God has descended upon this train. The Almighty has smitten it.'

"It is to appeals like this that the Mexican Indians respond. . . .

"It reminds one of the raids by Indians in the United States upon white settlements. The same more on less primitive Indian reasoning inspired both. . . ."

From a Cabinet Minister, such a Deadwood Dick account was white hot news. But what of the Presidential announcement of the burning to death of Senora Refugia Obregon Ponce de Leon? That confessed War Minister Amaro, had been a slightly premature announcement. The Senora Ponce de Leon had been expected to travel by the attacked train but, actually, she remained safe at Guadalajara. Disgusted correspondents who had cabled this news as fact throughout the world, resolved to cable no more until eye-witness refugee's arrived from the scene of atrocity. They came on a special train which steamed into Mexico City amid sorrowing crowds at 3 a. .m.

Air-brakes hissed, and as the train stopped a young man stepped off, greeted his mother on the platform with a laugh, told her, still laughing and grimacing, how the Indians had shot down his wife and mother-in-law, and mangled their three children with dumdum bullets. "Ha! Hahaha!" cried the demented man, "Hahahahaha. . . ." The dead included all but three of the armed train guards. Some 50 adults and children were murdered; but it was established that the Indians did not set fire to the train until all non-wounded passengers had climbed out. As the cars blazed in a great pyre, the wounded, slowly roasting to death, shrieked and groaned piteously.

"Don't mention my name," said a man whom newsgatherers described as a U. S. citizen, "but I want the folks back home to know one thing that happened. . . .

"There was a good-looking young woman in the seat next to me. A big Indian thug who appeared to be a sort of officer seized her by the arm and ordered her out of the car. I drew my belt containing 2,000 pesos and offered it to him if he would let her alone. When the bandit saw all that money, his eyes glistened, he held out his hand, called me a gentleman and went on his way gloating. The girl fainted."

Later the State Department at Washington announced that the only U. S. citizens on the train (all safe) were: "Alfonso Rosales, and Mr. & Mrs. Herman Dock."

The Mexican Government informed newsgatherers, late in the week, that it possessed proof of the ordering of the atrocity by the Mexican Episcopate of the Roman Catholic Church. Next day the Archbishop of Mexico, the Most Reverend Jose Mora y del Rio, one other archbishop and four bishops, were escorted by police to a train which left for the U. S. border. The Mexican Government then added a finishing touch to this deportation by issuing a statement:

"After conferences with the principal prelates of the Mexican Episcopate, these prelates facing grave charges based upon undeniable proofs and facing the possibility of submitting to trial, agreed to leave the country, no doubt to avoid responsibility, and decide to abandon Mexico."