48
Chapter FOur
So ended the first phase of Lonfranco De Seta’s life in Argentina. He
never could have imagined that out of such tragedy would arise such
opportunity. His recuperation from the depths of despair was accelerated
by the affection and attention that were showered upon him by the general and
his family. To be a resident in their home, a home that Lonfranco had helped to
build with his own hands, was a wonder that never ceased to amaze him during
his entire stay.
And what a magnificent residence Casa San Marco had turned out to
be. Covering two complete building lots, the neoclassical structure rose three
stories to a summit where four chimneys, one in each quadrant, anchored a
wooden balustrade. An open-air walkway skirted the entire second level of the
building, protected from the elements by the overhanging roofline.
The casa had an independent and dramatic presence, with its formal,
white stucco exterior and symmetrical design. An oversized, double thick
steel doorway was a concession to the general’s security-minded staff, but to
minimize its strength, it was flanked by Tuscan columns and capped by a large
paladin window and a cartouche with festoons.
The interior of the casa was no less spectacular. The two-story entrance
hall merged perfectly with the Italian marble winding staircase leading to
the private second story. The main floor’s principal rooms were all meant for
entertaining, with the pièce de résistance being the Louis the Fifteenth-style
ballroom that could accommodate two hundred or more guests. No expense
had been spared in detail or finishing materials. General Figueroa San Marco
intended to play host to the most powerful and influential men in all of
Argentina. Under the imported Spanish-tiled roof of his new home, he was
confident that his guests would be instantly impressed.
The casa’s rectangular shape enclosed an enormous central garden that
was a horticulturist’s delight. Flora from across the land displayed their magical
beauty and wafted their fragrant aromas. A large reflecting pond and grassed
games pitch gave the captive area a different personality with every meandering
turn of its pebbled walkways.
More than anything else, it was the long walks in the garden with Maria
that made Lonfranco De Seta feel that there was hope, that all was not lost.
The peacefulness of this botanical setting, and the charms of the pretty Maria
JAMES McCREATH
enabled the youth to once again ponder his future with some optimism. Finally,
about a fortnight after his arrival, the general called his houseguest into his
study to discuss that very future.
“I have taken the liberty of corresponding with the attorney back in
Livorno on your behalf. My instructions were for him to liquidate your family’s
assets and to send the proceeds to a new account that I have opened in your
name at the Banco Central. I hope that you have no objections, Lonfranco,
but there is nothing in Italy for you now, and your future truly lies here in
Argentina, with me.” The boy could say nothing, so he just nodded his head
affirmatively in silence. “I think that I did mention to you that I own a large
estancia in Pergamino, some two hundred miles from here. The operation has
over one thousand head of stock, and I am constantly in need of good men
that not only have knowledge of the animals, but are also trustworthy. I am
graced with a very good head gaucho, but he is old and has arthritis. He can’t
stay in the saddle the way he used to. This man would be an excellent teacher,
however, if you were to decide that you had an interest in that kind of life. And
what a life it is! Miles and miles of the finest land in Argentina. The gauchos
are great people, once you gain their confidence. They are brave and fearless
men, men who pride themselves in their uninhibited way of living.”
The general’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he reflected upon past adventures.
“In any event, I must make a journey up there in a few days. If you like, you
can accompany me and see what you think. It is to this estancia that I plan to
retire eventually, if the government can see its way clear to relieve me of all the
responsibilities it keeps piling on my shoulders. What do you say? Is it worth a
trip to the Pampas to see if that is where your future lies?”
“I would be honored to do anything in the General’s service! If that is
where you can use me, that is where I will serve.”
The smile on the boy’s face was the first one the general had observed
since that tragic Sunday.
“Good. And don’t worry, Maria and the others visit for the entire summer
season, so you won’t have to be lovesick for too long.”
Lonfranco could feel his face redden at the general’s last remark, but he
kept silent for fear of putting his foot in his mouth.
The general was an astute and observant man, and he obviously knew that
his daughter had stolen this young man’s heart. At least the infatuation that
Lonfranco felt was much easier to bear than the anxiety that filled that same
heart whenever he thought about his dearly departed family. He was ready for
this new adventure. Whatever the future had in store for him, he knew that
there was great opportunity to be had in the shadow of a man like General
Figueroa San Marco.
50
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Four days later, the two men stood on the platform of Recoleta station, the
general in a dapper civilian outfit, with Lonfranco in a new blue blazer, cotton
trousers, crisp white shirt, and cravat.
General San Marco was fastidious about his appearance in public and
relished the occasions when protocol did not require him to be in uniform.
Lonfranco thought of him as a truly elegant and dashing man.
They would ride in the general’s private command coach, which had been
customized to his specifications. This innovative idea allowed the military to
use the general’s expertise in any theater of operations to which Argentina’s
rapidly growing rail network extended. The coach was equipped with the latest
in telegraphic and electronic devises, maps and cartographic tools, working
desks for aides, and a private office and bed chamber for the general.
It could only have been by coincidence that this day happened to be the
boy’s sixteenth birthday. He had told no one, for he did not feel it his place to
create a fuss over himself. The San Marco sisters were already calling him their
brother and were constantly gawking at his every move and mannerism. Señora
San Marco said that it was because they had never had a brother, and no other
male except their father had ever lived under the same roof.
Lonfranco was very fond of the sisters in return and would talk and
play with them at every opportunity. Despite this mutual fondness, he never
overstepped the boundaries of propriety, and made sure that he was discreetly
absent if private family matters became a topic of discussion.
So there would be no birthday party, but the young immigrant did not
care. It was the adventure that lay ahead of him that captiv
ated his whole
being. That and the memory of sweet Maria’s good-bye kiss.
The travelers sat in San Marco’s office initially, aids serving beverages and
light snacks before a full luncheon was offered. The general, sitting behind
his desk in an overstuffed swivel chair, undid his tie and waistband. Then he
placed his spat-covered, black leather shoes upon the desk.
He began to describe the estancia in great detail, first the history of all the
buildings, and then the working mechanics of operating one hundred square
miles of land as a profitable business. Cattle, sheep, and crops were the staples
of economic stability, and he detailed each segment extensively. But it was the
thoroughbred horses that made his eyes light up when he talked. They were
obviously his pride and joy.
He spoke of the gauchos at great length, their robust spirit and free, open
lifestyle. It was not the same now as it had been years before, when the general
first fought in the Pampas as a young private. Agriculture, immigrant farmers,
and sheep herders had changed the face of the region. Cities and towns had
sprung up where only pulperias, or small villages, once stood. The gauchos
were forced to live under a different set of so-called civilized rules, on ever-
51
JAMES McCREATH
shrinking ranges. They were men of fierce passion and loyalty, once a person
had gained their respect. The general had used their skills to scout against the
Indians many times, and had learned their traits and customs, as if he were one
of them.
Propped against the wall in the corner of the coach sat a beautiful
cherrywood guitar. San Marco reached out and caressed it gently now. He said
that one could not understand the gaucho without listening to their music.
Lonfranco looked on in amazement as the general’s fingers moved with
velvet strokes over the strings and a plaintive chorus flowed from his lips. He
had never heard anything like it before and was surprised by the richness of the
general’s voice. The hours passed too quickly for his liking, but he soon found
himself in an elaborate carriage at the gates of estancia ‘Buenos Recuerdos.’
“Good Memories,” the general explained while pointing to the carved
wooden sign that arched between two huge stone gateposts. “That is what I
have when I think of life here, so the name seemed fitting.”
They sat on a slight rise, overlooking a vast expanse of checkerboard fields.
As far as the eye could see, there were only wide open spaces. The country air
was exhilarating to Lonfranco, and he basked in the view that the warm sun
illuminated before him, filled with wonder and anticipation. He had found a
new home, a new vocation, and a new family, all within a month of receiving
that terrible letter from Livorno. There could not have been a better birthday
present imaginable, and Lonfranco De Seta considered himself to be the luckiest
sixteen year-old alive.
The ensuing six years brought days of magic and merriment, mixed with
hard work and hands-on education in the operation of the estancia. Lonfranco
was placed under the watchful eye of old Roc Sena, the legendary head gaucho.
It was under his tutelage that the Italian received all the knowledge and training
required to immerse himself in his new lifestyle.
The newcomer bunked in a small one-room adobe ranchero with several
other men, not in the main residence with the general and his family. It was the
way both the general and the young boy preferred it. Lonfranco had to prove
himself worthy of the general’s trust and confidence, and he neither asked for,
nor received any special privileges. He had in Roc Sena perhaps the greatest
living mentor of the Pampas lifestyle in all the country.
Orphaned as a young child, Roc had stolen his first horse to escape
incarceration in the provincial youth facility at the age nine. He killed his first
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man at twelve, fathered his first child at thirteen, and signed on as a military
scout in return for whisky and rifles at sixteen. Years of Indian wars and political
revolutions increased his folk hero status. It was said that he had more wives
and children than even he could remember. Whenever responsibility became
too constricting for his liking, he would simply saddle up and move on.
He had met General San Marco when the future general was a young
captain seeking to end the Indian raids on the estancias once and for all. San
Marco relied on the famous scout’s ruthlessness and daring to bring about a
swift, but extremely brutal, end to the hostilities. The natives that survived
the slaughter were driven south to Patagonia or west into the Andes, never to
return to the Pampas.
The general was hailed as a hero by the Porteños, and this popularity
ensured a meteoric climb through both the military and social ranks of
Buenos Aires. Nevertheless, he could never forget the man that made his fame
possible, developing a deep friendship with Roc Sena, offering him a home and
employment as foreman on the new estancia that he had acquired.
The gaucho was tiring of his rogue’s life and found the general’s offer
to be timely. The two men became inseparable, each learning from the other
about a different way of life. It was General San Marco, however, who became
totally absorbed in the culture and habits of the gaucho lifestyle. He rode,
sang, drank, and caroused with Roc Sena and his men on every occasion that
presented itself.
He drank maté, the intoxicating herbal tea, partook in the asado, or range
barbecue where an entire steer would be devoured except for horns and hoofs.
He learned to play pato, the physical basketball style game played on horseback.
He became proficient with the bolla, knife, and revolver, and picked up a whole
new vocabulary of foul language that could not be put to use in the parlors and
ballrooms of Palermo.
All of these things were passed on to Lonfranco De Seta under Roc Sena’s
guidance, and the boy was a willing, eager student. He took the initial hazing
from the other ranch-hands in good humor, for he knew that they found it
strange for a young Italian immigrant to ride in their midst.
Whatever hurdles Lonfranco had to overcome because of his background
or any perceived favoritism on the part of the general were conquered with
sheer tenacity and a will to learn quickly. It was not long before the boy was
able to pull his full weight in the eyes of his peers.
Other forms of education were being administered to the newcomer at
the same time. These lessons were given not only by the general, but also by
a private academic tutor named Alveara Alcorta, who was brought in from
Buenos Aires.
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JAMES McCREATH
The general would talk at great length about agricultural facts of the
Pampas and the need for alfalfa to be cultivated to feed the more productive
English cattle that he had recently purchased. Also the need for cash crops of
corn, wheat, and other grains to augment the sheep and cattle. He also spoke
of the need for new, efficient methods of marketing the pro
ducts that they
produced, that is, an expanded rail system tying the Pampas to the ports in
Rosario and Buenos Aires.
There was no doubt that the general did not consider Buenos Recuerdos
as a leisurely pastime. Properly run, and with the right amount of innovation,
he was certain that it would maintain his family’s economic security through
whatever political upheaval should shake the ruling classes of Buenos Aires.
The general would eventually place a lot of trust in Lonfranco’s judgment,
but first the boy had to read and write so that he could comprehend financial
figures and statements. This was the role that Alveara Alcorta played in the
making of Lonfranco De Seta. The books were a lot more difficult to master
than the bolla or the saddle, but Lonfranco tackled them with the same driven
determination. After two years, Señora Alcorta was no longer required in the
employ of the general.
The San Marco ladies would be in residence at Buenos Recuerdos for most
of the summer months of January and February, and during those months, it
seemed to Lonfranco that the estancia was turned into a continuous garden
party or ballroom soirée. Guests from all over the countryside and the great
cities would enjoy the hospitality of the general and his family for days on
end.
The boy’s relationship with Maria remained extremely cordial, but his
newfound maturity and the worldly stories of the gauchos tempered the
infatuation that had made him giddy with love when they had first met. She
was, after all, the general’s eldest daughter, and he did not want to risk his
emerging identity on any indiscretion that he might be lured into because of
his naiveté. Affairs of the heart must wait for now, for the affairs of business
were uppermost in Lonfranco’s mind.
That aside, he was a constant visitor in the main residence, either talking
business with the general, or playing some spirited game with the younger
sisters as time permitted. He continued to be treated as if he were their favorite
cousin, and even Maria seemed to accept that their personal relationship had to
remain of lesser importance than their mutual educations.
It was for that reason that Maria and a French governess set sail for France
in August of 1902. Maria was about to fulfill her desire to study at the Sorbonne
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