Gory tales were being told by the residents living close to the Rio Grande River, of Mexican bodies riddled with bullets washing up on the riverbanks, but they did not know who was doing the killing.
The newly elected idealist U.S. President Woodrow Wilson adopted a policy of "watchful waiting," and decided not to intervene, but to keep a close eye on the border, and he kept the military stationed close at hand. President Wilson refused to recognize Huerta as the leader of Mexico, blaming him for the murder of Madero. He recommended and warned that all American citizens should leave Mexico immediately.
Henry Lane Wilson, the United States Ambassador to Mexico, was drawn to Huerta. Both alcoholics, they played a sinister role in Madero's overthrow conspiracy, and the ambassador was later fired by President Wilson. Later, in the fall of the year, Wilson made his policy clearer, declaring that the United States was staying out of Mexico's problems—words that he would recant later.
Looting became so widespread throughout the border towns, that the county judges and sheriffs requested aid in the form of an immediate backup from Texas Governor O.B. Colquitt. The governor ordered five companies of State Militia and Texas Rangers to the border under the command of Captain Sanders.
The contentious wedding took place between the feisty, Victoria and Ricardo at the Catedral de Guadalupe, in Reynosa. It was a hushed affair, with only her parents, Ricardo's mother, Grandmother Gloria, Aunt Emma, Felicia, and Dan Land to witness the ceremony. Ricardo's sister did not come, as she was too poor to attend a wedding in the custom that she was raised. The majority of the people living in Spanish Acres did not attend. Mamá Maria was too ill; Manuel, Roy, and Soledad did not care to attend, saying it was too much of a fuss, and that it was too long a trip, and they did not have good enough clothes to wear. The rest of the Spanish Acres household were not told of the importance of the wedding. The only Padrinos, Godparents, were the family of the wealthy Solis, who lived several miles south of Reynosa. Grandmother Gloria produced a small diamond ring for Victoria, a ring which had belonged to her dead mother, Señora Alvarado. The golden wedding band for Ricardo was one of the many rings of José Hinojosa. To wear dead people's rings was a bad omen, for both of the previous owners had been killed violently.
A dinner reception with plenty of food had been prepared in the gracious hacienda of the Solis family, with plenty of hard liquor served, including champagne imported from Brownsville. As the fiesta ended and evening came, the couple took off in a carriage toward Brownville. There they would board a ship headed for the city of New Orleans. Don Federico, who paid for the wedding, had asked Ricardo earlier about his preference for a month-long honeymoon. Ricardo, feeling humiliated in not being able to pay for the ceremony, had mentioned New Orleans, so accustomed was he to the French language and cuisine, after his many years studying in Paris.
While the newlyweds were away on their honeymoon trip, Lucio Blanco, one of Carranza's generals, captured the town of Reynosa in May of 1913. Many of the defenders were killed. Some he took as prisoners, and those who refused to join his army were executed. This created panic on both sides of the river. Blanco was smart and had a military education. He cleverly devised a plan to accumulate huge tax revenues on cattle and on exports and imports that crossed the river both ways. He began forcing the U.S. military, cattlemen, and business owners to pay high tariffs. The military commanders at Fort Brown refused Blanco's demands and sent a wire to Governor Colquitt, informing him of the trumped-up charges at the border. The governor of Texas requested federal troops from President Wilson. When this was refused, Governor Colquitt sent more Texas state troops to the area.
*****
One month later, Fred, now twelve, returned home by train from his military academy to the new house in Mercedes City, where a big celebration was given by Doña Francisca and Emma. The twins were ecstatic seeing Fred again, wanting to hear about his education and what he had learned at the academy. Fred was taller than ever, close to six feet, more disciplined, with muscular arms and shoulders, and had gained weight. As a child, Fred had never known sorrow or hardship. He had been aloof and undisciplined, but he had come home with a different attitude. He was overjoyed with the new modern house, and very talkative, telling stories of the different people who attended the school, and the contrast between different groups, who were mostly Irish and German. Fred had shared a dormitory with another boy from a ranch close to Corpus Christi, Texas, named Jim Gray, who was Apache Indian and Irish. The two boys had become friends, with each enriching the other’s knowledge and character. By the end of the season, both had become champions in football, causing the rest of the boys to be jealous.
Fred described the attitudes of the generals who ran the academy. They were pleased with Fred's intelligence but had not given Jim any encouragement in his future education, often flogging him because of his background and race. This had left Jim Gray discouraged and disheartened, and he had left five months earlier without finishing his courses. Fred found himself lonely and unsure of himself, as the two had formed a close pack. The rest of the boys attending were uncaring after Jim left.
He remarked about the cruel harshness of what it was like to be of mixed-race, and how he had learned in two years just how much the different nationalities disliked each other. There was a strong feeling of resentment, and each group was keenly aware of the ‘roots of indifferences’ that divided them. The majority of the Germans and Irish boys' animosity came from what they had been taught at home; they would not associate with Fred or Jim, only tolerated them and laughed at their ethnic background, with cruel remarks and jokes. The two boys were not able to "tell," because it was against an unwritten law of the school to "tattle" on one another. For Fred, it had been a humiliating experience, being in a special school and not being wanted. But it had taught him discipline, fortitude, good manners, and even how to keep his room clean and tidy.
"A good lesson in life," commented Don Federico, proudly. He was very impressed with Fred's attitude, manner, and looks. Don Federico was disturbed by Fred's story, but was not surprised— discrimination was everywhere, especially in the white-run schools. "They must have done something right because you look great!" he said. "Now you know why I want you to be an attorney. So you can get to know the laws and fight for justice, equality, and for what's right, especially here in the Valley."
"I spent many nights thinking, Dad, and I still would like to attend a good college, maybe up North, and become a doctor."
"Nonsense," remarked Don Federico. "For now, you will go to school here in Mercedes City and we will have plenty of time to talk about your future profession." Saying this, he disappeared from the kitchen and joined the ladies in the sala, where he overheard the remarks of Emma's twin boys.
"I will become an attorney," announced Jamie, who was pleased to see Fred again.
"I don't know what I will be," replied John.
*****
Heroic stories were being told in the press on the Texas side, stories of victory from Pancho Villa, the Centaur of the North, as he was called by the Mexican-American citizens living in Texas. Tales of the Mexican war were being put to music: La Valentina, Adelita, Tres Piedras, Esperanza, El Pagare, Los Higos Dela Noche, Historia Triste De Amor, and Recuerdos de Durango were being sung from the coast of California to the mouth of the Rio Grande. Most of the songs were sad ballads that told how the Mexicans felt about their lonely life, their women, and the loved ones who were left behind to fight for justice.
Within a month Victoria and Ricardo returned from their honeymoon trip. Already, Victoria showed signs of unhappiness with Ricardo, as outbursts of loud, angry disputes, and the breaking of glass had been heard from their upstairs bedroom several times. The servants, busy with their duties, would trade glances and whisper among themselves. Victoria's face was etched with frown lines, and she seemed angry all the time. In her unhappiness, she would occasionally erupt angrily at the servants for no apparent reason.
The even
ing meal provided the center of communication for the family, but exchanges between the newlywed couple were always subtle. Of course, there would be a difference of opinion at times, with animated discussion and disagreement, making everyone uneasy.
Feisty as ever, Victoria detested the egotistical Ricardo. He was controlling and had the habit of correcting her speech every time she opened her mouth. Her heart was hostile toward him, especially knowing she loved someone else. She felt cheated and resented her parents for forcing her into an arranged marriage. With jaws clenched, she watched him from across the dining room table, glowering at him as he inspected and picked at his food so meticulously, cutting his steak and chewing it with so much gusto. Or, on many occasions, if displeased with the food, Ricardo would push his plate away as though he found it inedible and not fit for his expensive taste. Victoria had the urge to walk into the kitchen and pick up the heaviest frying pan and smash his smug face.
She often noticed her father watching her, knowing what she was thinking. Her demeanor clearly showed that they were incompatible. The truth of the ill-fated marriage showed in the young, dishearten bride's face; she cried repeatedly, and her eyes were always red and swollen. She railed against everyone, and the only time she was seen to smile was when she embraced Fred upon his return. Her life had become a nightmare.
Victoria had decided to make Mercedes City her home since Doña Francisca had relapsed from her long illness. Tension mounted from the Mexican war, and everywhere along the border, even inside Texas, life was becoming dangerous.
Ricardo wasted no time in returning to Spanish Acres, where he found interest and excitement working in the oil fields. And there, inevitably, he discovered the insatiable Yolanda.
*****
Within six months, Shaw, the engineer in charge of the operation of the oil fields, wrote a letter to Don Federico stating that he was quitting the operation immediately. The unhappy engineer said that Ricardo was never at his job and spent too much time with a gal at Spanish Acres, who, from Shaw's description, was none other than the notorious Yolanda. Furthermore, Ricardo, who was in charge of shipping the barrels of oil, and collecting the checks from Houston, was neglecting to make any deposits into Don Federico's bank in Brownsville, and the workers were not being paid. All Shaw was getting was complaints, for everyone in the field, was discontented.
Don Federico went into an angry frenzy. Ricardo had taken advantage of his position, was stealing money from the company, and had no responsibility to his marriage, only seeing Victoria when he felt like it, in Mercedes City. The news put Don Federico in a very peculiar, almost bizarre situation. The couple had already announced the coming of the newborn several months ago. He wondered if Ricardo was suspicious about Victoria's pregnancy. Mexican men expected their brides to be pure and untouched, especially on their wedding night. The groom, under the traditional machismo Mexican custom, could return the bride to her parents, leaving the family and her shamed. However, months had now passed, and Ricardo up to this point had remained silent. To question him on his amorous adventures was going to create a problem.
The other problem was Yolanda, knowing her loose morals. Her father, Miguel, had worked for the family for years, first with the cattle, and now overseeing the three hundred laborers working the land and cotton fields. The introduction of cotton had been very profitable, and the laborers were being paid good wages.
Immediately Don Federico went into a state of rage. He donned his Stetson hat and gun belt and ordered his carriage to be hitched up without delay. In his rush to leave, he had left the open letter and the rest of his mail on top of the small mahogany desk, next to his chair in the sala. The ride to Spanish Acres would give him time to think over his words when confronting Ricardo about his absences at work and his negligence. What could Ricardo be doing with the bank checks, if he was not depositing them at the Brownsville bank? He was cashing them!
Curious, Victoria rushed downstairs wanting to question her father on his urgency. Her first thought was that something had happened to Fred or Carlos at school. Victoria went to the window and looked out as her father stormed out from the barn, whipping the team of horses in haste. She was wearing a loose-fitting top, for already her pregnancy was showing, and her long skirt whirled as she turned to go back upstairs. As she brushed past the desk, the letter her father had been reading fluttered to the floor. She picked it up and read it. Language gave no utterance to what went through her mind. The household heard a terrifyingly loud voice screech, followed by the word "Puta!" It rang throughout the house, rattling china, dishes, and servants. "Bastard!" she screamed again, trembling with anger, unable to contain her rage and fury.
Servants scurried in from the kitchen, and the two gardeners ran into the house bewildered, one with a rake still in his hands. Doña Francisca, who lay dying in the upstairs bedroom, woke up and managed to stagger to the edge of the staircase and, holding onto the rails of the steps, looked down.
"Ah, Señora," said Panchita to Victoria. She was a heavy-set, widow woman, whom the household had hired as their main cook. "Señora," she said, "Is something wrong?" She questioned the state of emotion of La Señora Del Calderóne, as she wiped her hands clean on her apron and began holding onto Victoria to console her. "What could possibly be wrong?"
"It's my husband! He's cheating on me!" cried Victoria, embracing Panchita.
"Ah, Sera por Dios," said the other helpers, showing sympathy for the young bride. The helper whispered, "Ah, Dios!" as they stood in a state of mortification, feeling sorry for Victoria, who was already over six months along.
The two gardeners, who felt like they were intruding on this delicate, women's conversation, slowly and cautiously walked out, and made their way outdoors, puzzled.
Startled and concerned at Victoria's loud scream, Doña Francisca had gotten out of bed and now lay in a heap at the top of the stairs, coughing uncontrollably and with blood pouring from her mouth.
Victoria wiped her eyes and looked up in shock. "Mother," she screamed, "you shouldn't have gotten up!"
Victoria hurried to her mother's side. She left the letter on her father's desk and called out that her mother needed help. With the assistance of the three women, she was able to put Doña Francisca back in bed, and then they cleaned the area. Victoria, exhausted and drained, and needing rest herself, staggered to her bedroom and closed the door.
Doña Francisca died that afternoon. Fred and Carlos, returning from school, were horrified to learn of their mother's death and were taken to a different section of the mansion. The household was already full of people dressed in black, including Emma, who was unable to speak from crying. Doña Gloria Hinojosa was inconsolable. Felicia, Dan Land, and many other friends and neighbors, hearing of the news, brought trays of food and flowers, all with heartfelt condolences. The members of the Catholic prayer committee began making preparations for the three-day wake.
Arriving back from the oil fields late that night, Don Federico was stunned to learn of the death of his beloved wife. He knew it was coming, but Lord, not this soon, he kept telling himself. Doña Francisca was already dressed in one of the gowns she wore for Victoria's fiesta and lay on a table resting in the main sala of their new home. In a state of shock, teary-eyed, not sleeping or eating, the Don began making the funeral arrangements. He wanted Fred to be one of the pallbearers.
Doña Francisca's bed and mattress were destroyed and her bedroom was cleaned with lye-water.
The funeral Mass was said in the Lady of Mercy Church, with the burial in the family plot at Spanish Acres. Hundreds of horse-drawn wagons, carriages and buggies traveled to the burial amidst the wind and oncoming rain. The masses of people dressed in black were in anguish, not believing that the great lady had died, including Mamá Maria and Manuel, both in ill health.
The weather had turned into a light drizzle, then began pouring steadily, with lighting bolts striking across the horizon, making a petrifying exhibition across the heavens. At the far
end of the cemetery could be seen a gruesome silhouette: Doña Adela and her son Roberto standing on a small hill overlooking the cemetery. La bruja had previously predicted Doña Francisca's death. She hovered at a distance now, like a spiritual demon evil force, watching and holding onto her cane, with her long, black cape flapping in the wind, and Roberto at her side. Grieving people in attendance caught the specter of the two figures and stood in awe of Doña Adela and the image she presented. They whispered among themselves and wiped their eyes in between their mourning, shocked by the weirdness of la bruja coming to the funeral. For a long time afterward, people told stories of how terrified they had felt in her company on that day.
*****
It took many weeks of tortuous moments before Don Federico came to the grim reality that his beloved companion was gone. The thought of living by himself, without his beautiful wife, left him inconsolable. For many days after the funeral, he had walked around like a zombie, not wanting to face the real truth. In the following weeks, he spent most of his days at Spanish Acres, being close to his wife's final resting place. He would sit on a cement block staring at his wife's grave all day—whether sunny, cloudy or rainy, it did not matter.
Finally, in the third week, Roy and several of the vaqueros, including Martin and Miguel Garcia, concerned about Don Federico's state of mind, went to visit him at the gravesite. The great Don was barely sleeping or eating, and Roy and the rest of the vaqueros needed instructions pertaining to the shipment of over five hundred head of cattle.
Don Federico finally came to his senses. He came to terms with his lonely life and realized he had to think of his two boys, their education, and their future. Victoria was already married and with a child coming. She could take care of herself, even though she had a poor excuse of a husband. The incident with Ricardo's cashing the oil checks had been put on the back burner because of the funeral, but it had not been forgotten.
Roots of Indifferences Page 47