Dona Perfecta

by Benito Pérez Galdós

  "APRIL 22.

  "MY EVER-REMEMBERED FRIEND:

  "To-day we have had a bloody skirmish on the outskirts of Orbajosa. Thelarge body of men raised in Villahorrenda were attacked by the troopswith great fury. There was great loss in killed and wounded on bothsides. After the combat the brave guerillas dispersed, but they aregreatly encouraged, and it is possible that you may hear of wonderfulthings. Cristobal Caballuco, the son of the famous Caballuco whom youwill remember in the last war, though suffering from a wound in the arm,how or when received is not known, commanded them. The present leaderhas eminent qualifications for the command; and he is, besides, anhonest and simple-hearted man. As we must finally come to a friendlyarrangement, I presume that Caballuco will be made a general in theSpanish army, whereby both sides will gain greatly.

  "I deplore this war, which is beginning to assume alarming proportions;but I recognize that our valiant peasants are not responsible for it,since they have been provoked to the inhuman conflict by the audacity ofthe Government, by the demoralization of its sacrilegious delegates; bythe systematic fury with which the representatives of the state attackwhat is most venerated by the people--their religious faith and thenational spirit which fortunately still exists in those places that arenot yet contaminated by the desolating pestilence. When it is attemptedto take away the soul of a people to give it a different one; when it issought to denationalize a people, so to say, perverting its sentiments,its customs, its ideas--it is natural that this people should defenditself, like the man who is attacked by highwaymen on a solitary road.Let the spirit and the pure and salutiferous substance of my work on the'Genealogies'--excuse the apparent vanity--once reach the sphere of theGovernment and there will no longer be wars.

  "To-day we have had here a very disagreeable question. The clergy, myfriend, have refused to allow Rey to be buried in consecrated ground.I interfered in the matter, entreating the bishop to remove this heavyanathema, but without success. Finally, we buried the body of the youngman in a grave made in the field of Mundo Grande, where my patientexplorations have discovered the archaeological treasures of which youknow. I spent some very sad hours, and the painful impression whichI received has not yet altogether passed away. Don Juan Tafetan andourselves were the only persons who accompanied the funeral cortege. Alittle later, strange to say, the girls whom they call here the Troyaswent to the field, and prayed for a long time beside the rustic tombof the mathematician. Although this seemed a ridiculous piece ofofficiousness it touched me.

  "With respect to the death of Rey, the rumor circulates throughout thetown that he was assassinated, but by whom is not known. It is assertedthat he declared this to be the case, for he lived for about an hour anda half. According to what they say, he refused to reveal the name ofhis murderer. I repeat this version, without either contradicting orsupporting it. Perfecta does not wish this matter to be spoken of, andshe becomes greatly distressed whenever I allude to it.

  "Poor woman! no sooner had one misfortune occurred than she met withanother, which has grieved us all deeply. My friend, the fatal maladythat has been for so many generations connatural in our family has nowclaimed another victim. Poor Rosario, who, thanks to our cares, wasimproving gradually in her health, has entirely lost her reason. Herincoherent words, her frenzy, her deadly pallor, bring my mother and mysister forcibly to my mind. This is the most serious case that I havewitnessed in our family, for the question here is not one of mania butof real insanity. It is sad, terribly sad that out of so many I shouldbe the only one to escape, preserving a sound mind with all my facultiesunimpaired and entirely free from any sign of that fatal malady.

  "I have not been able to give your remembrances to Don Inocencio, forthe poor man has suddenly fallen ill and refuses to see even his mostintimate friends. But I am sure that he would return your remembrances,and I do not doubt that he could lay his hand instantly on thetranslation of the collection of Latin epigrams which you recommend tohim. I hear firing again. They say that we shall have a skirmish thisafternoon. The troops have just been called out."

  "BARCELONA, June 1.

  "I have just arrived here after leaving my niece in San Baudilio deLlobregat. The director of the establishment has assured me that thecase is incurable. She will, however, have the greatest care in thatcheerful and magnificent sanitarium. My dear friend, if I also shouldever succumb, let me be taken to San Baudilio. I hope to find the proofsof my 'Genealogies' awaiting me on my return. I intend to add six pagesmore, for it would be a great mistake not to publish my reasons formaintaining that Mateo Diez Coronel, author of the 'Metrico Encomio,'is descended, on the mother's side, from the Guevaras, and not from theBurguillos, as the author of the 'Floresta Amena' erroneously maintains.

  "I write this letter principally for the purpose of giving you acaution. I have heard several persons here speaking of Pepe Rey's death,and they describe it exactly as it occurred. The secret of the manner ofhis death, which I learned some time after the event, I revealed to youin confidence when we met in Madrid. It has appeared strange to me thathaving told it to no one but yourself, it should be known here in allits details--how he entered the garden; how he fired on Caballuco whenthe latter attacked him with his dagger; how Ramos then fired on himwith so sure an aim that he fell to the ground mortally wounded. Inshort, my dear friend, in case you should have inadvertently spoken ofthis to any one, I will remind you that it is a family secret, and thatwill be sufficient for a person as prudent and discreet as yourself.

  "Joy! joy! I have just read in one of the papers here that Caballuco haddefeated Brigadier Batalla."

  "ORBAJOSA, December 12.

  "I have a sad piece of news to give you. The Penitentiary has ceased toexist for us; not precisely because he has passed to a better life, butbecause the poor man has been, ever since last April, so grief-stricken,so melancholy, so taciturn that you would not know him. There is nolonger in him even a trace of that Attic humor, that decorous andclassic joviality which made him so pleasing. He shuns every body; heshuts himself up in his house and receives no one; he hardly eats anything, and he has broken off all intercourse with the world. If you wereto see him now you would not recognize him, for he is reduced to skinand bone. The strangest part of the matter is that he has quarreled withhis niece and lives alone, entirely alone, in a miserable cottage in thesuburb of Baidejos. They say now that he will resign his chair in thechoir of the cathedral and go to Rome. Ah! Orbajosa will lose much inlosing her great Latinist. I imagine that many a year will pass beforewe shall see such another. Our glorious Spain is falling into decay,declining, dying."

  "ORBAJOSA, December 23.

  "The young man who will present to you a letter of introduction fromme is the nephew of our dear Penitentiary, a lawyer with some literaryability. Carefully educated by his uncle, he has very sensible ideas.How regrettable it would be if he should become corrupted in that sinkof philosophy and incredulity! He is upright, industrious, and a goodCatholic, for which reasons I believe that in an office like yours hewill rise to distinction in his profession. Perhaps his ambition maylead him (for he has ambition, too) into the political arena, andI think he would not be a bad acquisition to the cause of order andtradition, now that the majority of our young men have become pervertedand have joined the ranks of the turbulent and the vicious. He isaccompanied by his mother, a commonplace woman without any socialpolish, but who has an excellent heart, and who is truly pious.Maternal affection takes in her the somewhat extravagant form of worldlyambition, and she declares that her son will one day be Minister. It isquite possible that he may.

  "Perfecta desires to be remembered to you. I don't know precisely whatis the matter with her; but the fact is, she gives us great uneasiness.She has lost her appetite to an alarming degree, and, unless I amgreatly mistaken in my opinion of her case, she shows the first symptomsof jaundice. The house is very sad without Rosarito, who brightened itwith her smiles and her angelic goodness. A black cloud seems to restnow over us all. Poor Perfe
cta speaks frequently of this cloud, whichis growing blacker and blacker, while she becomes every day more yellow.The poor mother finds consolation for her grief in religion and indevotional exercises, which each day she practises with a more exemplaryand edifying piety. She passes almost the whole of the day in church,and she spends her large income in novenas and in splendid religiousceremonies. Thanks to her, religious worship has recovered in Orbajosaits former splendor. This is some consolation in the midst of the decayand dissolution of our nationality.

  "To-morrow I will send the proofs. I will add a few pages more, for Ihave discovered another illustrious Orbajosan--Bernardo Amador de Sota,who was footman to the Duke of Osuna, whom he served during the periodof the vice-royalty of Naples; and there is even good reason to believethat he had no complicity whatever in the conspiracy against Venice."

  Our story is ended. This is all we have to say for the presentconcerning persons who seem, but are not good.