Remember the Alamo

by Amelia E. Barr

  CHAPTER X. THE DOCTOR AND THE PRIEST.

  "I tell thee, priest, if the world were wise They would not wag one finger in your quarrels: Your heaven you promise, but our earth you covet; The Phaetons of mankind, who fire the world Which you were sent by preaching but to warm."

  Your Saviour came not with a gaudy show, Nor was His kingdom of the world below: The crown He wore was of the pointed thorn In purple He was crucified, not born. They who contend for place and high degree Are not His sons, but those of Zebedee." --DRYDEN.

  The exalted state of mind which the victorious men had brought home withthem did not vanish with sleep. The same heroic atmosphere was in thehouse in the morning. Antonia's face had a brightness upon it that neveryet was the result of mere flesh and blood. When she came into the usualsitting-room, Dare was already there; indeed, he had risen purposely forthis hour. Their smiles and glances met each other with an instantaneousunderstanding. It was the old Greek greeting "REJOICE!" without theaudible expression.

  Never again, perhaps, in all their lives would moments so full ofsweetness and splendor come to them. They were all the sweeter becauseblended with the homely duties that fell to Antonia's hands. As she wentabout ordering the breakfast, and giving to the table a festal air, Darethought of the old Homeric heroes, and the daughters of the kings whoministered to their wants. The bravest of them had done no greater deedsof personal valor than had been done by the little band of Americanpioneers and hunters with whom he had fought the last four days. Theprinces among them had been welcomed by no sweeter and fairer women thanhad welcomed his companions and himself.

  And, though his clothing was black with the smoke of the battle and tornwith the fray, never had Dare himself looked so handsome. There was anunspeakable radiance in his fair face. The close, brown curls of hishair; his tall figure, supple and strong; his air of youth, and valor,and victory; the love-light in his eyes; the hopes in his heart, madehim for the time really more than a mere mortal man. He walked likethe demi-gods he was thinking of. The most glorious ideal of life, thebrightest dream of love that he had ever had, found in this hour theircomplete realization.

  The Senora did not come down; but Isabel and Luis and the doctor joinedthe breakfast party. Luis had evidently been to see Lopez Navarro beforehe did so; for he wore a new suit of dark blue velvet and silver, asash of crimson silk, the neatest of patent leather shoes, and the mostbeautifully embroidered linen. Dare gave him a little smile and nod ofapprobation. He had not thought of fine clothing for himself; but thenfor the handsome, elegant, Mexican youth it seemed precisely theright thing. And Isabel, in her scarlet satin petticoat, and whiteembroideries and satin slippers, looked his proper mate. Dare andAntonia, and even the doctor, watched their almost childlike devotion toeach other with sympathetic delight.

  Oh, if such moments could only last! No, no; as a rule they last longenough. Joy wearies as well as sorrow. An abiding rapture would makeitself a sorrow out of our very weakness to bear it. We should becomeexhausted and exacting, and be irritated by the limitations of ournature, and our inability to create and to endure an increasing rapture.It is because joy is fugitive that it leaves us a delightsome memory.It is far better, then, not to hold the rose until it withers in ourfevered hand.

  The three women watched their heroes go back to the city. The doctorlooked very little older than his companions. He sat his horse superbly,and he lifted his hat to the proud Senora with a loving grace whichneither of the young men could excel. In that far back year, when he hadwooed her with the sweet words she taught him, he had not looked moremanly and attractive. There is a perverse disposition in women to lovepersonal prowess, and to adore the heroes of the battle-field; and neverhad the Senora loved her husband as she did at that hour.

  In his capacity of physician he had done unnoticed deeds of fargreater bravery--gone into a Comanche camp that was being devastatedby smallpox--or galloped fifty miles; alone in the night, through woodshaunted by savage men and beasts, to succor some little child strugglingwith croup, or some frontiersman pierced with an arrow. The Senora hadalways fretted and scolded a little when he thus exposed his life. Butthe storming of the Alamo! That was a bravery she could understand. HerRoberto was indeed a hero! Though she could not bring herself to approvethe cause for which he fought, she was as sensitive as men and womenalways are to victorious valor and a successful cause.

  Rachela was in a state of rebellion. Nothing but the express ordersof Fray Ignatius, to remain where she was, prevented her leaving theWorths; for the freedom so suddenly given to Isabel had filled her withindignation. She was longing to be in some house where she could giveadequate expression to the diabolical temper she felt it right toindulge.

  In the afternoon it was some relief to see the confessor coming up thegarden. He had resumed his usual deliberate pace. His hands were foldedupon his breast. He looked as the mournful Jeremiah may have looked,when he had the burden of a heavy prophecy to deliver.

  The Senora sat down with a doggedly sullen air, which Antonia understoodvery well. It meant, "I am not to be forced to take any way but my own,to-day"; and the wise priest understood her mood as soon as he enteredthe room. He put behind him the reproof he had been meditating. Hestimulated her curiosity; he asked her sympathy. No man knew better thanFray Ignatius, when to assume sacerdotal authority and when to lay itaside.

  And the Senora was never proof against the compliment of his personalfriendship. The fight, as it affected himself and his brotherhoodand the convent, was full of interest to her. She smiled at BrotherServando's childish alarm; she was angry at an insult offered to thevenerable abbot; she condoled with the Sisters, wept at the danger thatthe famous statue of the Virgin de Los Reinedias had been exposed to;and was altogether as sympathetic as he could desire, until her ownaffairs were mentioned.

  "And you also, my daughter? The sword has pierced your heart too, I amsure! To know that your husband and sons were fighting against your Godand your country! Holy Mother! How great must have been your grief. But,for your comfort, I tell you that the saints who have suffered a fierymartyrdom stand at the feet of those who, like you, endure the continualcrucifixion of their affections."

  The Senora was silent, but not displeased and the priest then ventured alittle further:

  "But there is an end to all trials, daughter and I now absolve you fromthe further struggle. Decide this day for your God and your country.Make an offering to Almighty God and the Holy Mother of your earthlylove. Give yourself and your daughters and all that you have to thebenign and merciful Church. Show these rebels and heretics--theseungrateful recipients of Mexican bounty--what a true Catholic is capableof. His Divine Majesty and the Holy Mary demand this supreme sacrificefrom you."

  "Father, I have my husband, and my sons; to them, also, I owe someduties."

  "The Church will absolve you from them."

  "It would break my heart."

  "Listen then: If it is your right hand, or your right eye--that is, ifit is your husband, or your child--you are commanded to give them up;or--it is God's word--there is only hell fire."

  "Mother of Sorrows, pity me! What shall I do?"

  She looked with the terror of a child into the dark, cruel face of thepriest. It was as immovably stern as if carved out of stone. Then hereyes sought those of Antonia, who sat at a distant window with herembroidery in her hand. She let it fall when her mother's pitiful,uncertain glance asked from her strength and counsel. She rose andwent to her. Never had the tall, fair girl looked so noble. A sorrowfulmajesty, that had something in it of pity and something of anger,gave to her countenance, her movements, and even her speech, a kind ofauthority.

  "Dear mother, do as the beloved and kindhearted Ruth did. Like you, shemarried one not of her race and not of her religion. Even when God hadtaken him from her, she chose to remain with his people--to leave herown people and abide with his mothe
r. For this act God blessed her, andall nations in all ages have honored her."

  "Ruth! Ruth! Ruth! What has Ruth to do with the question? Presumptuousone! Ruth was a heathen woman--a Moabite--a race ten times accursed."

  "Pardon, father. Ruth was the ancestress of our blessed Saviour, and ofthe Virgin Mary."

  "Believe not the wicked one, Senora? She is blinded with falseknowledge. She is a heretic. I have long suspected it. She has not beento confession for nine months."

  "You wrong me, father. Every day, twice a day, I confess my sinshumbly."

  "Chito! You are in outrageous sin. But, then, what else? I hear, indeed,that you read wicked books--even upon your knees you read them."

  "I read my Bible, father."

  "Bring it to me. How could a child like you read the Bible? It is a bookfor bishops and archbishops, and the Immaculate Father himself. Whatan arrogance? What an insolence of self-conceit must possess so young aheart? Saints of God! It confounds me."

  The girl stood with burning cheeks gazing at the proud, passionate man,but she did not obey his order.

  "Senora, my daughter! See you with your own eyes the fruit of your sin.Will you dare to become a partner in such wickedness?"

  "Antonia! Antonia! Go at once and bring here this wicked book. Oh, howcan you make so miserable a mother who loves you so much?"

  In a few moments Antonia returned with the objectionable book. "My deargrandmother gave it to me," she said. "Look, mi madre, here is my namein her writing. Is it conceivable that she would give to your Antonia abook that she ought not to read?"

  The Senora took it in her hands and turned the leaves very much as achild might turn those of a book in an unknown tongue, in which therewere no illustrations nor anything that looked the least interesting.It was a pretty volume of moderate size, bound in purple morocco, andfastened with gilt clasps.

  "I see the word GOD in it very often, Fray Ignatius. Perhaps, indeed, itis not bad."

  "It is a heretic Bible, I am sure. Could anything be more sinful, moredisrespectful to God, more dangerous for a young girl?" and as he saidthe words he took it from the Senora's listless hands, glanced at theobnoxious title-page, and then, stepping hastily to the hearth, flungthe book upon the burning logs.

  With a cry of horror, pain, amazement, all blended, Antonia sprangtowards the fire, but Fray Ignatius stood with outstretched arms, beforeit.

  "Stand back!" he cried. "To save your soul from eternal fires, I burnthe book that has misled you!"

  "Oh, my Bible! Oh, my Bible! Oh, mother! mother!" and sobbing and cryingout in her fear and anger, she fled down stairs and called the peonOrtiz.

  "Do you know where to find the Senor Doctor? If you do, Ortiz, take theswiftest horse and bring him here."

  The man looked with anger into the girl's troubled face. For a momenthe was something unlike himself. "I can find him; I will bring him infifteen minutes. Corpus Christi it is here he should be."

  The saddled horse in the stable was mounted as he muttered oneadjuration and oath after another, and Antonia sat down at the windowto watch for the result of her message. Fortunately, Rachela had been sointerested in the proceedings, and so determined to know all aboutthem, that she seized the opportunity of the outcry to fly to "herpoor Senora," and thus was ignorant of the most unusual step taken byAntonia.

  Indeed, no one was aware of it but herself and Ortiz; and the servantsin the kitchen looked with a curious interest at the doctor riding intothe stable yard as if his life depended upon his speed. Perhaps it did.All of them stopped their work to speculate upon the circumstance.

  They saw him fling himself from the saddle they saw Antonia run to meethim; they heard her voice full of distress--they knew it was the voiceof complaint. They were aware it was answered by a stamp on the flaggedhall of the doctor's iron-heeled boot--which rang through the wholehouse, and which was but the accompaniment of the fierce exclamationthat went with it.

  They heard them mount the stairs together, and then they were left totheir imaginations. As for Antonia, she was almost terrified at thestorm she had raised. Never had she seen anger so terrible. Yet, thoughhe had not said a word directly to her, she was aware of his fullsympathy. He grasped her hand, and entered the Senora's room with her.His first order was to Rachela--

  "Leave the house in five minutes; no, in three minutes. I will tellOrtiz to send your clothes after you. Go!"

  "My Senora! Fray I--"

  "Go!" he thundered. "Out of my house! Fly! I will not endure you anothermoment."

  The impetus of his words was like a great wind. They drove the womanbefore him, and he shut the door behind her with a terrifying andamazing rage. Then he turned to the priest--

  "Fray Ignatius, you have abused my hospitality, and my patience.You shall do so no longer. For twenty-six years I have suffered yourinterference-"

  "The Senor is a prudent man. The wise bear what they cannot resist"; andwith a gentle smile and lifted eyebrows Fray Ignatius crossed himself.

  "I have respected your faith, though it was the faith of a bigot; andyour opinions, though they were false and cruel, because you believedhonestly in them. But you shall not again interfere with my wife, or mychildren, or my servants, or my house."

  "The Senor Doctor is not prince, or pope. 'Shall,' and 'SHALL NOT,' noone but my own ecclesiastical superiors can say to me."

  "I say, you shall not again terrify my wife and insult my daughter, anddisorganize my whole household! And, as the God of my mother hears me,you shall not again burn up His Holy Word under my roof. Never, whileI dwell beneath it, enter my gates, or cross my threshold, or addressyourself to any that bear my name, or eat my bread." With the words, hewalked to the door and held it open. It was impossible to mistakethe unspoken order, and there was something in the concentrated yetcontrolled passion of Robert Worth which even the haughty priest did notcare to irritate beyond its bounds.

  He gathered his robe together, and with lifted eyes muttered anejaculatory prayer. Then he said in slow, cold, precise tones:

  "For the present, I go. Very good. I shall come back again. The saintswill take care of that. Senora, I give you my blessing. Senor, you mayyet find the curse of a poor priest an inconvenience."

  He crossed himself at the door, and cast a last look at the Senora, whohad thrown herself upon her knees, and was crying out to Mary and thesaints in a passion of excuses and reproaches. She was deaf to all herhusband said. She would not suffer Antonia to approach her. She feltthat now was the hour of her supreme trial. She had tolerated therebellion of her husband, and her sons, and her daughter, and now shewas justly punished. They had driven away from her the confessor, andthe maid who had been her counsellor and her reliance from her girlhood.

  Her grief and terror were genuine, and therefore pitiful; and, in spiteof his annoyance, the doctor recognized the fact. In a moment, as soonas they were alone, he put aside his anger. He knelt beside her,he soothed her with tender words, he pleaded the justice of hisindignation. And ere long she began to listen to his excuses, and tocomplain to him:

  He had been born a heretic, and therefore might be excused a little,even by Almighty God. But Antonia! Her sin was beyond endurance. Sheherself, and the good Sisters, and Fray Ignatius, had all taught her inher infancy the true religion. And her Roberto must see that this wasa holy war--a war for the Holy Catholic Church. No wonder Fray Ignatiuswas angry.

  "My dear Maria, every church thinks itself right; and all other churcheswrong. God looks at the heart. If it is right, it makes all worshiptrue. But when the Americans have won Texas, they will give to every onefreedom to worship God as they wish."

  "Saints in heaven, Roberto! That day comes not. One victory! Bah! Thatis an accident. The Mexicans are a very brave people,--the bravest inthe world. Did they not drive the Spaniards out of their country; andit is not to be contradicted that the Spaniards have conquered all othernations. That I saw in a book. The insult the Americans have givento Mexico will be revenged. Her honor has been
compromised before theworld. Very well, it will be made bright again; yes, Fray Ignatius sayswith blood and fire it will be made bright."

  "And in the mean time, Maria, we have taken from them the city they lovebest of all. An hour ago I saw, General Cos, with eleven hundred Mexicansoldiers, pass before a little band of less than two hundred Americansand lay down their arms. These defenders of the Alamo had all beenblessed by the priests. Their banners had been anointed with holy oiland holy water. They had all received absolution everyday before thefight began; they had been promised a free passage through purgatory anda triumphant entry into heaven."

  "Well, I will tell you something; Fray Ignatius showed it to me--it wasa paper printed. The rebels and their wives and children are to be sentfrom this earth--you may know where they will all go, Roberto--Congresssays so. The States will give their treasures. The archbishops willgive the episcopal treasures. The convents will give their gems and goldornaments. Ten thousand men had left for San Antonio, and ten thousandmore are to follow; the whole under our great President Santa Anna. Oh,yes! The rebels in Washington are to be punished also. It is well knownthat they sent soldiers to Nacogdoches. Mexicans are not blind moles,and they have their intelligence, you know. All the States who havehelped these outrageous ingrates are to be devastated, and you will seethat your famous Washington will be turned into a heap of stories. Ihave seen these words in print, Roberto. I assure you, that it is notjust a little breath--what one or another says--it is the printed ordersof the Mexican government. That is something these Americans will haveto pay attention to."

  The doctor sighed, and answered the sorrowful, credulous woman with akiss. What was the use of reasoning with simplicity so ignorant and soconfident? He turned the conversation to a subject that always rousedher best and kindest feelings--her son Jack.

  "I have just seen young Dewees, Maria. He and Jack left San Felipetogether. Dewees brought instructions to General Burleson; and Jackcarried others to Fannin, at Goliad."

  She took her husband's hands and kissed them. "That indeed! Oh, Roberto!If I could only see my Jack once more! I have had a constant accusationto bear about him. Till I kiss my boy again, the world will be all darkbefore my face. If Our Lady will grant me this miraculous favor, I willalways afterwards be exceedingly religious. I will give all my desiresto the other world."

  "Dearest Maria, God did not put us in this world to be always desiringanother. There is no need, mi queridita, to give up this life as a badaffair. We shall be very happy again, soon.

  "As you say. If I could only see Jack! For that, I would promise GodAlmighty and you Roberto to be happy. I would forgive the rebels and theheretics--for they are well acquainted with hell road, and will guideeach other there without my wish."

  "I am sure if Jack has one day he will come to you. And when he hears ofthe surrender of General Cos--"

  "Well now, it was God's will that General Cos should surrender. Whatmore can be said? It is sufficient."

  "Let me call Antonia. She is miserable at your displeasure; and it isnot Antonia's fault."

  "Pardon me, Roberto. I have seen Antonia. She is not agreeable andobedient to Fray Ignatius."

  "She has been very wickedly used by him; and I fear he intends to do herevil."

  "It is not convenient to discuss the subject now. I will see Isabel;she is a good child--my only comfort. Paciencia! there is Luis Alvedasinging; Isabel will now be deaf to all else"; and she rose with a sighand walked towards the casement looking into the garden.

  Luis was coming up the oleander walk. The pretty trees were thinner now,and had only a pink blossom here and there. But the bright winter sunshone through them, and fell upon Luis and Isabel. For she had also seenhim coming, and had gone to meet him, with a little rainbow-tinted shawlover her head. She looked so piquant and so happy. She seemed such aproper mate for the handsome youth at her side that a word of dissentwas not possible. The doctor said only, "She is so like you, Maria. Iremember when you were still more lovely, and when from your balcony youmade me with a smile the happiest man in the world."

  Such words were never lost ones; for the Senora had a true and greatlove for her husband. She gave him again a smile, she put her hand inhis, and then there were no further conciliations required. They stoodin the sunshine of their own hearts, and listened a moment to the gayyouth, singing, how at--

  The strong old Alamo Two hundred men, with rifles true, Shot down a thousand of the foe, And broke the triple ramparts through; And dropped the flag as black as night, For Freedom's green and red and white.[3]