Edith O'Shaughnessy

Summary

Edith O'Shaughnessy A diplomat's wife in Mexico (1916)

As we motored home we found ourselves enveloped in an indescribable glory—a strange light thrown over everything by a blue and copper sunset. The luster-tiled roof of the little Chapel of Churubusco was like a diamond held in the sun—the rest of the church gray and flat. All this is historic ground for us as well as for the Mexicans. Over the golf-links and in the fields between the Country Club and Churubusco, our men, on their way up from Vera Cruz in 1847, fought a desperate fight before pressing into Mexico City.
Source: Gutenberg

Edith O'Shaughnessy A diplomat's wife in Mexico (1916)

Driving back this evening toward a beautiful, clear, red sunset, up the Plateros between the rows of autos and carriages full of handsomely dressed people, the men standing along the edge of the pavement as they do in Rome on the Corso, it seemed impossible that I was looking at a people over whom a great national humiliation was hanging. The crowds become more and more Mexican every day, with fewer American faces.
Source: Gutenberg

Edith O'Shaughnessy A diplomat's wife in Mexico (1916)

Huerta appears to care very little whom he shoots. He has small sentiment about human life (his own, or anybody’s else) , but he is a strong and astute man; and if he could get a few white blackbirds, in the shape of patriots, to work with him, and if the United States were not on his back, he might eventually bring peace to his country.
I am not yet reaccustomed to the extreme beauty of the Mexican morning; a dazzling, many-colored light that would dim the spectrum is filtering into my room, as I write, glorifying every object and corner.
Source: Gutenberg

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