sitting room, and bedroom; a second containing barbershop,
bath, and a player piano; a third reserved for siestas; and a fourth his dining room, staffed by dark-eyed beauties.
On December 2, 1914, in the village of Xochimilco on the outskirts of Mexico City, he met with Emiliano Zapata. Although the
two revolutionaries had exchanged correspondence and knew a lot about each other, it was the first time they had actually
had a face-to-face meeting.
“Sr. General Zapata, today I realize my dream of meeting the chief of the great Revolution of the South,” said Villa.
“And I now realize that same dream regarding the chief of the Northern Division,” Zapata responded.
Their joint public appearance sent a strong message to the rest of the country, as well as the international community, that
the Villistas and Zapatistas—not the Carrancistas—represented the will of the Mexican people and would triumph in the new
civil war. Followed by adoring crowds, the two adjourned to a nearby school for a conference. “For a half-hour, they sat in
an embarrassed silence, occasionally broken by some insignificant remark, like two country sweethearts,” a U.S. representative
later wrote. In an effort to lighten the atmosphere, Zapata called for a bottle of cognac. Reluctantly, Villa took a few swigs,
turning red faced and spluttering from the liquor.
Several days later, they rode through the streets of Mexico City to the National Palace, two splendid figures on horseback,
sitting relaxed in their saddles, right hands casually holding the reins. Zapata wore tight-fitting charro pants, a short
jacket, a scarf, and a huge sombrero that shaded his perpetual scowl. Villa was dressed up, too, his bulk squeezed into a
military tunic, his huge head topped by a visored cap. In addition to their superb horsemanship, the two charismatic leaders
had many things in common: a keen intelligence, a genuine concern for the poor, suspicious natures that bordered on paranoia,
and fierce hatred of the Carrancistas. They are “men who have always slept on soft pillows,” Villa sneered. “How could they
ever be friends of the people who have spent their lives with nothing but suffering?” Zapata agreed. “Those cabrones, as soon
as they see a little chance, well, they want to take advantage of it and line their pockets!”
When Villa and Carranza parted ways, the Villistas and Zapatistas, along with other generals friendly to their cause, controlled
most of the country, including the northern states adjacent to the U.S. border and the central highlands, as well as scattered
enclaves along the Gulf coast and the Pacific Ocean. The Carrancistas controlled less territory, but the land they did control
provided them with more valuable resources. Carranza’s forces, for example, occupied the oil-producing region of Tampico,
which had been relatively untouched by revolution and was generating far more revenue than the agricultural regions that Villa
depended upon to finance his army. Carranza had also inherited the huge cache of weaponry left behind in Veracruz when the
U.S. forces pulled out in November of 1914, which included millions of rounds of ammunition, rifles, pistols, machine guns,
barbed wire, and explosives. Perhaps most important of all, Carranza had Álvaro Obregón on his side. A former chickpea farmer,
Obregón is viewed by many historians as the most talented military general to emerge in the revolution. He was blessed with
a photographic memory, had some schooling, and was modest in appearance. Martín Luis Guzmán believed Obregón’s unpretentious
demeanor only camouflaged an immense conceit and sense of his own importance. “His ideas, his beliefs, his feelings were intended
like those of the theater, for the public. They lacked all roots and conviction.” Obregón was no fool, however, and unlike
the semiliterate Villa, took the time to study the lessons being learned in the