Mr. Ryan to Mr.
Blaine.
[Extract.]
Legation of
the United States,
Mexico, June 27, 1889.
(Received July 5.)
No. 27.]Sir: I inclose herewith a copy of Mrs. Work’s
letter to the press relative to the imprisonment of her husband at Ciudad
Victoria, Mexico, as also of Mr. Gifford’s statement on the subject.
On my application the consul at Ciudad Victoria has furnished me with the
presentation to the court of defendants case by his attorney, and
uncertified copies of the evidence which are now being translated in the
legation and will be forwarded as soon as possible.
I understand the case is now before the “court of last resort” of the
state.
I am, etc.,
[Page 564]
[Inclosure in No. 27.—From the Two
Republics, June 27, 1889.]
the work outrage.
St.
Louis, Missouri, June 29,
1889.
A statement from Mr. A. W. Gifford, of
St. Louis, Missouri, on the subject.
Editor Two Republics:
The inclosed special to the Globe-Democrat from San Antonio, Texas,
purporting to come from Mrs. Mary C. Work, is an insult and a great
injustice to Mexico and her good people.
Personally I don’t believe Mrs. Work wrote such a letter, for I detect in
it the ear marks of Judge W. H. Brooker, a lawyer of San Antonio, Texas,
who doubtless thinks this the best mode of serving Mr. Work and wishes
to work up notoriety and sympathy by it.
Mr. Work did kill a man, not a robber as stated, but a Mexican miner
under the influence of liquor, who picked a quarrel and drew a knife on
him. He was accompanied by two other miners, who might have prevented
the trouble by taking their companion away. But ill feeling often found
in mining camps, the result of enmity and jealousy from conflicting
interests doubtless prevented their interference, and a life had to pay
the penalty, for which Mr. Work has been tried and sentenced for four
years.
I have understood from the time of the trouble, that he has been dealt
with in a liberal and generous manner, and under the circumstances with
two witnesses against himself, he certainly should and doubtless does
feel thankful, that his sentence is no worse.
The taking of life even in self-defense is a serious matter, and must
necessarily be accompanied with trouble and mortification, unless you
hold the preponderance of evidence. Knowing all the circumstances and
surroundings as I do, I am satisfied Mr. Work has had and will receive
justice in the Mexican courts.
At the time of the sad affair, Mr. Work was the superintendent of the
Linares Land and Mining Company, of which he was a stockholder, and I
was the president, the company owning and working the mines known as
“San Mauricio,” “El Leon,” “La Parena,” and “Santa Rita,” located in the
camp of San José. For the past two years we have had a continuation of
petty troubles and annoyances in the camp that has prevented successful
development, which I trust will soon be at an end.
Letter of Mrs. Work.
San
Antonio, Texas, June
19.
The following has been made public here, and has caused intense
excitement among the people, and immediate steps will be taken to
establish its truth or falsity:
City of Victoria, Republic of
Mexico,
State of Tamaulipas June 11,
1889.
To the universal press and the
chivalry of America:
I appeal to you for aid after long suffering. We came to San José, in
this State, about seven years ago, where my husband, Robert C. Work, was
operating some mines. Everything went on well until about the time we
were getting our interests in operation, when other parties desired our
property. Every device was resorted to to drive us from our property and
our new made home, and threats of violence to my husband were often and
openly made by parties at the mining camp of San José About one year
ago, while my husband was returning on horseback from Linares, a town
about 50 miles distant, with funds to pay off his miners, he was
attacked by three robbers in the gulch near our house. In the trouble my
husband ran from the would-be murderers, and in plain view of our home;
but the three still pursued him, and one of them with a drawn pistol
snatched the reins of my husband’s horse. At this instant my husband
drew his pistol and shot one of the robbers dead. The other two fled.
For this act of my husband, done in full view of his little home, wife,
and daughter, and wholly in self-defense, he has been put to unmerciful
trials, lugged from court to court, and incarcerated in vile and filthy
dungeons, and sentenced to prison for four years. The courts trying him
refused to hear any evidence in his behalf, but distorted every
statement he would make. The courts admitted the evidence
[Page 565]
of the two accomplices, and
upon such base evidence—if evidence it can be called—my husband has been
sentenced. The whole procedure was a flagrant outrage on justice, and on
the rights of a free-born American. While his life is in peril, his wife
and daughter are left to the mercy of the infuriated fiends, for while
my husband was under ward and surveillance, these same would-be
murderers and robbers, joined by four others of their class, attacked
our house at night and set fire to the “brush fence surrounding it, and
amid their yells and curses heaped upon the despised “Gringos,” myself
and daughter, were forced to fly into the mountains for safety. On
returning, and while attempting to put out the fire, I was seized and
knocked down by these villains, and an attempt at outrage on my person
made.
Amid such surroundings I have been almost crazed from fear and
exhaustion, while my poor little daughter, now blooming into womanhood,
crouches at my feet praying for protection. Is there no help at home for
me.? On the testimony of such villians that burn the home over the heads
of the innocent and defenseless my husband is held in durance, and
subject to every species of humiliation and torture. The officers call
my husband an English assassin, and say he ought to be shot.
Our own consuls are made to doubt his nationality, while in truth and
fact he was born in Kingston on the banks of the Tennessee River, while
I am a native Georgian.
While my husband lies here a prisoner and subject to every indignity his
wife and daughter are hooted at on the streets, and no officer of the
law lends protection. Human filth is smeared on our door at night, and
the vilest epithets are hurled at us as “Gringos” (Americans).
We hold out a longing look for relief, but no comforter comes. Are we
unworthy the fostering care of our National Government, because we have
been wrecked and are penniless and poor? Brave, generous men of the
American Union, we look to you for relief; we pray that our Government
lends us its protection.
Very respectfully,
