The Survey October 1916-March 1917 . theleaders of the organized labor movement of Mexico, their Wives and children, were hurried on board trains and givenshelter in the Carranza-governed city of Orizaba, 80-oddmiles inland from Vera Cruz. In all there were some sixthousand of them, the cream of Mexicos skilled mechanicsand their families. If Zapata had caught them they wouldhav been shot. For a week I sat in the daily sessions of the Comite Revo-lucionario listening to speeches and the passage of resolutionsthat had but one historical counterpart, namely, the Pariscomnunc. Carranza sent his m
The Survey October 1916-March 1917 . theleaders of the organized labor movement of Mexico, their Wives and children, were hurried on board trains and givenshelter in the Carranza-governed city of Orizaba, 80-oddmiles inland from Vera Cruz. In all there were some sixthousand of them, the cream of Mexicos skilled mechanicsand their families. If Zapata had caught them they wouldhav been shot. For a week I sat in the daily sessions of the Comite Revo-lucionario listening to speeches and the passage of resolutionsthat had but one historical counterpart, namely, the Pariscomnunc. Carranza sent his military representative, Colonel IgnacioC. Enriquez (now governor of the state of Chihuahua) tothe comite to ask for the quick enrollment of the unions inthe army of General Trevino and in a few hours I saw themustering in of the gremio (union) of stonemasons, the sameunion that- I afterwards visited while they were fighting inthe trenches at Ebana, in the heart of the oil fields ofTampico. 237 238 THE SURVEY FOR DECEMBER 2, 1 g 1 6. THE CHURCHES OF ORIZABA The Revolutionists have turned them into schools, printingoffices and union headquarters The drums of the union, lettered with puzzling black fig-ures, attracted my attention when the red-bannered organi-zation stood in line at the station of the Ferrocarril Mexi-cano ready to entrain for Vera Cruz, and so I questionedone of the drummers about them. He pulled the sleeve of his companion, turned up his drumand began to laugh. This North American comrade, hecommented with twinkling eyes, lacks religious does not recognize the chants of the church. Then ex-plaining to me: This parchment on our drums came fromthe cathedral in Mexico, parchment on which the clericalshad painted their chants. Now—he played a tattoo withhis fingers on the drum-bottom—it sings the song of therevolution. Years before I had visited Orizaba, in the days of PorfirioDiaz, the dictator, just after the big strike in the Rio Blancocotton mil
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