The General and the Jaguar (32 page)

The hunt for Pancho Villa had come to a standstill. “Whether the halt is to be permanent or not depends upon circumstances
beyond the control of General Pershing,” wrote Elser. “But from a military standpoint he has for the time being come to the
end of his lane.”

E
VEN BEFORE
the Parral incident, President Wilson’s cabinet had been debating the question of how long Pershing should remain in Mexico.
Secretary of State Lansing and Secretary of War Baker thought the troops should be withdrawn before a full-scale war between
the two countries erupted, with Baker voicing the opinion that it was “foolish to chase a single bandit all over Mexico.”
General Scott was also in favor of withdrawing the troops, pointing out that Pershing’s orders had been merely to disperse
and punish the marauders and that the objective had been accomplished in a “very brilliant way.” But Wilson’s attorney general,
Thomas Gregory, and Franklin Lane, secretary of the interior, thought Pershing should remain where he was until Villa was
captured or until Carranza could prove to them that he could control the raids across the border.

Wilson himself was conflicted about what to do. Although he found the First Chief infuriating, he had no desire to see him
fail and knew the presence of the U.S. troops in Mexico was destabilizing his presidency. But the border was still lawless
and Pancho Villa was still at large. Wilson worried that a premature withdrawal might make the United States appear weak,
not only to its southern neighbors but also to Germany. In addition, he was reluctant to give interventionist opponents such
as Senator A. B. Fall ammunition in an election year. After Parral, however, Wilson knew there was no way that the troops
could be withdrawn. National honor was at stake. The Punitive Expedition, he decided, would have to remain in Mexico for a
while longer.

The president’s decision was fraught with risks. Military troops on both sides were edgy and one wrong move could ignite a
war. And the American officers in the field were beginning to think that a larger war might not be a bad thing. While Pershing
jounced north in his touring car, munching on crackers to stanch his indigestion, he was silently formulating a plan to pacify
the state of Chihuahua and then the whole country. Once he was settled in his new camp, he sent a telegram to General Funston
laying out a litany of complaints against the Carrancista government. “My opinion is general attitude Carranza government
has been one of obstruction. This also universal opinion army officers this expedition. Carranza forces falsely report attacks
against Villa’s forces and death of Villa leaders. Activity Carranza forces in territory through which we have operated probably
intentionally obstructive. Marked example obstruction refusal allow our use of railroads. Captious criticisms by local officials
against troops passing through towns prompted by obstructive spirit.”

The columns, he continued, were often delayed when hot pursuit was important and he noted that the Guerrero fight would have
been a success but for the “treachery” of the Mexican guide. The natives, he wrote, had also obstructed their efforts to catch
Villa at every opportunity, circulating false rumors and even going so far as to help him escape. “Inconceivable that notorious
character like Villa could remain in country with people ignorant his general direction and approximate location. Since Guerrero
fight it is practically impossible obtain guides even from one town to another except by coercion.”

Pershing also reported that the animosity toward the U.S. troops was growing. “At first people exhibited only passive disapproval
American entry into country. Lately sentiment has changed to hostile opposition.” The de facto government was in a complete
shambles and unable to control the local warlords, he added. “In fact anarchy reigns supreme in all sections through which
we have operated.” He concluded the telegram with the following suggestion:

In order to prosecute our mission with any promise success it is therefore absolutely necessary for us to assume complete
possession for time being of country through which we must operate and establish government therein. For this purpose it is
imperative that we assume control of railroads as means of supplying forces required. Therefore recommend immediate capture
by this command of city and state of Chihuahua also the seizure of all railroads therein, as preliminary to further necessary
military operations.

Following up on his idea, Pershing two days later sent a second telegram to Funston outlining how U.S. troops could take control
of the entire country. Soldiers from Fort Bliss could seize Juárez, he suggested, and working in tandem with his own men,
they could drive the Mexicans south. Once Chihuahua City was taken, he recommended taking Torreón in order to secure Monterrey
and other points to the east. “The tremendous advantage we now have in penetration into Mexico for 500 miles parallel to the
main line of railway south should not be lost. With this advantage a swift stroke now would paralyze Mexican opposition throughout
northern tier of states and make complete occupation of entire Republic comparatively easy problem.”

To Funston, Pershing’s suggestion wasn’t particularly radical. On April 10, two days before the Parral attack, he had telegraphed
the War Department, asking to lead a new expedition into Mexico starting from Marfa, Texas. His request was curtly denied
by the War Department, which noted that a second incursion into Mexican territory would engender certain “political difficulties.”
The cooler heads within the War Department also quashed Pershing’s plan. General Tasker Bliss later attributed the ideas to
the army’s sense of frustration and its desire to capture
“something, someplace anything!”

Parral was the farthest south that U.S. troops penetrated into Mexico and the clash there marked the end of the first phase
of the Punitive Expedition. Occurring only a month after the troops had crossed the border, the skirmish also marked a turning
point in the military logistics. Pershing dissolved the columns and ordered the men to reassemble under their original regiments.
Then he divided the occupied territory into five districts, with each regimental commander charged with policing a district
and destroying any scattered remnants of Villa’s army. He issued the following instructions to his officers:

It is also desirable to maintain the most cordial relations, and cooperate as far as feasible, with the forces of the de facto
government. Experience has taught, however, that our troops are always more or less in danger of being attacked, not only
by hostile followers of Villa, but even by others who profess friendship, and precaution must be taken accordingly. In case
of unprovoked attack, the officer in command will, without hesitation, take the most vigorous measures at his disposal, to
administer severe punishment to the offenders, bearing in mind that any other course is likely to be construed as a confession
of weakness.

With the American troops out of the way, Villa could now concentrate on getting well. Some historians maintain that Villa
mounted a burro and proceeded to a cave known as Cueva de Cozcomate. But intelligence officers for the Punitive Expedition
believed that Villa remained at the Rodríguez ranch until the first of June. Whether he was actually in the house where the
Yaqui Indians were seen leaving is unknown, but he did tell a Japanese businessman, who worked as a “confidential agent” for
the army, that he had watched in alarm as U.S. troopers searched the houses. “It was the closest call to capture I have ever
had in my life; I was actually in very great danger.”

As for his generals, Nicolás Fernández and Francisco Beltrán continued south to the state of Durango. Pablo López remained
hidden in a cave while his brother, Martín, drifted toward their hometown of San Andrés. Candelario Cervantes and his men
loitered in the hills west of Guerrero, watching the American troops with field glasses. And Juan Pedrosa received some medical
treatment from a French doctor and went into seclusion at a home that was just a few miles north of General Pershing’s advance
base at Satevó.

F
OLLOWING THE
P
ARRAL FIGHT
, Hugh Scott and Frederick Funston were dispatched to El Paso to meet with Álvaro Obregón. Officials
in Washington hoped the three generals could speak frankly to one another and halt the slide toward all-out war. After some
hesitation, Carranza had reluctantly agreed to let his talented military chieftain attend, even though he was growing suspicious
that he and Obregón were after the same prize: the presidency of Mexico.

The residents of Juárez and El Paso, who had lived for six years with revolution and counterrevolution and the almost daily
rumors that they were about to be bombarded into rubble, greeted the news with a mixture of anticipation and irritation. Following
the Columbus raid, El Paso had resembled an armed military camp. Soldiers from Fort Bliss had patrolled the downtown streets,
sheriff’s deputies had tramped the muddy banks of the Rio Grande, extra men had been hired by the police department, and more
than a hundred Villa sympathizers and ex-officials had been rounded up in nightly dragnets. The suspects had been placed in
the city jail and bonds were set so high that their captivity had been assured for an indefinite period of time. In a moment
of candor, the police chief had acknowledged that the measures being implemented were not always legal. “We are not always
proceeding according to law. If we did, we would not accomplish anything. We are out to keep peace along the border and prevent
Villa’s sympathizers from aiding him in evading our soldier boys. Dealing with bandits you have to take extraordinary measures.”

The mayor of El Paso had also taken steps to limit free speech, prohibiting public discussion of the Columbus raid or the
expedition. “We all want to demonstrate patriotism and love of country, but futile conversations about this war benefit nobody,”
he said. The police had cracked down on the small Spanish-language newspapers publishing in El Paso. Fernando Gamiochipi,
the editor of
El Paso del Norte,
had been jailed on suspicion of inciting a riot and all copies of his newspaper were confiscated. Several other Spanish-language
newspapers operated by Mexican expatriates were also suppressed “as a precaution against possible disorder resulting from
inflammatory utterances.” The typesetting equipment was returned a few days later but the chief of detectives had warned that
police officials would continue to censor the news.

Ironically, El Paso owed much of its prosperity to the Mexican refugees who had fled across the border during the revolution.
Restaurants opened and became wildly successful, clothing stores did a brisk business, bank deposits increased dramatically,
and barbershops were filled with military generals waiting for shaves and haircuts. In the southern part of town, known as
Little Chihuahua or Chihuahuaita, the boardinghouses and hotels were filled with spies, smugglers, arms dealers, soldiers
of fortune, reporters, revolutionists and counterrevolutionists who called themselves Maderistas, Huertistas, Villistas, or
Carrancistas, or
científicos
of the old Díaz regime. “Young revolutions have started from it; shattered revolutions have ebbed back into it; plots and
counterplots have been darkly hatched within the corridors of its hotels,” James Hopper wrote.

Luis Terrazas, the fabulously wealthy Chihuahua landowner, arrived in the city with twenty wagons filled with goods and an
extended family that included forty-eight women and children, and rented an entire floor of the luxurious Paso del Norte Hotel.
Upon his arrival, intelligence agents from nearby Fort Bliss proceeded to bug the rooms. The agents grew numb with boredom
as they listened to the chatter about women’s hats and gowns and were no doubt relieved when the clan rented a commodious
house overlooking the city that happened to belong to New Mexico senator Albert Fall. Grand as it was, the house in no way
could accommodate the extended family and their servants, which numbered some 150 people, and nearby houses were leased or
purchased for the overflow. “After breakfasting,” writes author Victor Macias-González, “don Luis held court, receiving family
members, friends and acquaintances in seigneurial style in the mansion’s salon. Seated at a large and comfortable chair that
must have appeared to visitors to be a throne, he welcomed those who sought his advice and money. He reached into a large
pouch on a table at his side to disburse small cash gifts of 25 and 50-cent American coins.”

W
HEN
Á
LVARO
O
BREGóN’S
entourage pulled into the Juárez train station, residents tramped down to look at his locomotive and then returned home,
singularly unimpressed. Unlike Villa’s old train, Obregón’s was nondescript and consisted of a mix of boxcars, flatcars, coal
cars, private cars, and passenger coaches. One coach, dubbed the “Celaya,” was the same car from which Obregón had directed
the decisive battles against Villa and the car to which he was brought after his arm had been torn away by a Villista shell.
A second railroad car, from which a long banner hung, was called the “Siquisiva,” named after the Hacienda Siquisiva, General
Obregón’s birthplace. A third carried the heavy, cream-colored automobile that Obregón would use for trips across the river
to meet with Hugh Scott and Frederick Funston.

A military band formed up on a platform to welcome Obregón’s party, which included several new brides. “The drummer was all
set, the bass fiddler ready to saw away on the strings, and the clarinets and cornets, and slide trombones were all tuned
for the ‘triumphal march’ which the band was to play,” a journalist reported. “Just as the diminutive director in beard and
glasses, looking like an understudy of John Philip Sousa, was about to rap with his baton for attention, a green baize curtain
of a car window was brushed aside and a command was given in sharp staccato sounds.” The general, it seemed, was having his
siesta and the band was encouraged to serenade someone else down the line.