CHAPTER XVII. HOME AGAIN.
"Where'er we roam, Our first, best country ever is at home."
"What constitutes a state? Men who their duties know; But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain.
"And sovereign law, that states collected will O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits empress; crowning good, repressing ill.
"This hand to tyrants ever sworn a foe, For freedom only deals the deadly blow; Then sheathes in calm repose the vengeful blade, For gentle peace, in freedom's hallowed shade."
The vicinity of a great battle-field is a dreadful place after the lapseof a day or two. The bayou and the morass had provided sepulturefor hundreds of slain Mexicans, but hundreds still lay upon the openprairie. Over it, birds of prey hung in dark clouds, heavy-winged, sad,sombre, and silent. Nothing disturbed them. They took no heed of theliving. Armed with invincible talons and beaks tipped with iron,they carried on ceaselessly that automatic gluttony, which made thembeneficent crucibles of living fire, for all which would otherwise havecorrupted the higher life. And yet, though innocent as the elements,they were odious in the sight of all.
Before daylight in the morning the Senora and her daughters were readyto begin their homeward journey. The doctor could not accompany them,General Houston and the wounded Americans being dependent largelyupon his care and skill. But Luis Alveda and Lopez Navarro received anunlimited furlough; and about a dozen Mexican prisoners of war belongingto San Antonio were released on Navarro's assurance, and permitted totravel with the party as camp servants. It was likely, also, that theywould be joined by a great many of the families who had accompanied thegreat flight; for, on the preceding evening, Houston had addressed thearmy, and told the householders and farmers to go home and plant theircorn.
Full of happiness, the ladies prepared for their journey. A good armywagon, drawn by eight mules, and another wagon, containing two tents andeverything necessary for a comfortable journey, was waiting for them.The doctor bid them good-by with smiles and cheerful promises. They weregoing home. The war was over. Independence was won. They had the hopeof permanent peace. The weather also was as the weather may be among thefields of Eden. The heavens were cloudless, the air sweet and fresh, andthe wild honeysuckles, with their spread hands full of scent, perfumedthe prairies mile after mile. The mules went knee-deep through warmgrasses; the grasses were like waving rainbows, with the myriads ofbrightly tinted flowers.
Even Lopez was radiantly happy. Most unusual smiles lighted up hishandsome face, and he jingled the silver ornaments on his bridlepleasantly to his thoughts as he cantered sometimes a little in advanceof the wagon, sometimes in the rear, occasionally by its side; then,bending forward to lift his hat to the ladies and inquire after theircomfort.
Luis kept close to Isabel; and her lovely face and merry chatterbeguiled him from all other observations. A little before noon theyhalted in a beautiful wood; a tent was spread for the ladies, theanimals were loosened from their harness, and a luxurious meal laid uponthe grass. Then the siesta was taken, and at three o'clock travel wasresumed until near sunset, when the camp was made for the night. Thesame order was followed every day, and the journey was in every sense aneasy and delightful one. The rides, cheered by pleasant companionship,were not fatiguing; the impromptu meals were keenly relished. And therewere many sweet opportunities for little strolls in the dim green woods,and for delightful conversations, as they sat under the stars, while thecamp-fire blazed among the picturesque groups of Mexicans playing montearound it.
On the third afternoon, the Senora and Isabel were taking a siesta, butAntonia could not sleep. After one or two efforts she was thoroughlyaroused by the sound of voices which had been very familiar to her inthe black days of the flight--those of a woman and her weary family ofseven children. She had helped her in many ways, and she still felt aninterest in her welfare. It appeared now to be assured. Antonia foundher camping in a little grove of mulberry trees. She had recovered herhealth; her children were noisy and happy, and her husband, a tall,athletic man, with a determined eye and very courteous manners, wasunharnessing the mules from a fine Mexican wagon; part of the lawfulspoils of war. They, too, were going home: "back to the Brazos," saidthe woman affectionately; "and we're in a considerable hurry," she added,"because it's about time to get the corn in. Jake lays out to plantfifty acres this year. He says he can go to planting now with an easyconscience; he 'lows he has killed enough Mexicans to keep him quiet aspell."
They talked a short time together, and then Antonia walked slowly intothe deeper shadows of the wood. She found a wide rock, under treessoftly dimpling, pendulous, and tenderly green; and she sat down in thesweet gloom, to think of the beloved dead. She had often longed for somequiet spot, where, alone with God and nature, she could, just for once,give to her sorrow and her love a free expression.
Now the opportunity seemed to be hers. She began to recall her wholeacquaintance with Dare--their hours of pleasant study--their sails uponthe river--their intercourse by the fireside--the most happy Sundays,when they walked in the house of God together. In those days, what ablessed future was before them! She recalled also the time of hope andanxiety after the storming of the Alamo, and then the last heroic actof his stainless life. She had felt sure that in such a session withher own soul she would find the relief of unrestrained and uncheckedweeping. But we cannot kindle when we will either the fire or thesensibility of the soul. She could not weep; tears were far from her.Nay, more, she began to feel as if tears were not needed for one whohad found out so beautiful, so unselfish, so divine a road to the grave.Ought she not rather to rejoice that he had been so early called andblest? To be glad for herself, too, that all her life long she couldkeep the exquisite memory of a love so noble?
In the drift of such thoughts, her white, handsome face grew almostangelic. She sat motionless and let them come to her; as if she werelistening to the comforting angels. For God has many ways of sayingto the troubled soul: "Be at peace"; and, certainly, Antonia had notanticipated the calmness and resignation which forbid her the tears shehad bespoken.
At length, in that sweet melancholy which such a mental conditioninduces, she rose to return to the camp. A few yards nearer to it shesaw Lopez sitting in a reverie as profound as her own had been. He stoodup to meet her. The patience, the pathos, the exaltation in her facetouched his heart as no words could have done. He said, only: "Senorita,if I knew how to comfort you!"
"I went away to think of the dead, Senor."
"I comprehend--but then, I wonder if the dead remember the living!"
"In whatever dwelling-place of eternity the dear ones who died at Goliadare, I am sure that they remember. Will the emancipated soul be lessfaithful than the souls still earthbound? Good souls could not even wishto forget--and they were good."
"It will never be permitted me to know two souls more pure, morefaithful, more brave, Juan was as a brother to me, and, BY MYSANTIGUADA![6] I count it among God's blessings to have known a man likeSenor Grant. A white soul he had indeed; full of great nobilities!"
Antonia looked at him gratefully. Tears uncalled-for sprang into theeyes of both; they clasped hands and walked mutely back to the camptogether. For the sentiment which attends the realization that all isover, is gathered silently into the heart; it is too deep for words.
They found the camp already in that flurry of excitement alwaysattendant upon its rest and rising, and the Senora was impatientlyinquiring for her eldest daughter.
"GRACIOUS MARIA! Is that you, Antonia? At this hour we are all yourservants, I think. I, at least, have been waiting upon your pleasure";then perceiving the traces of sorrow and emotion on her face, she added,with an unreasonable querulousness: "I bless God when I see how Hehas provided for women; giving them tears, when they have no otheremployment for their time."
"Dearest mother, I am sorry to have kept you waiting
. I hope that youhave forgotten nothing. Where is your mantilla? And have you replenishedyour cigarito case? Is there water in the wagon?"
"Nothing has been provided. Things most necessary are forgotten, nodoubt. When you neglect such matters, what less could happen?"
But such little breezes of temper were soon over. The influencessurrounding, the prospects in advance, were too exhilarating to permitof anything but passing shadows, and after an easy, delightful journey,they reached at length the charming vicinity of the romantic city ofthe sword. They had but another five miles ride, and it was the Senora'spleasure to take it at the hour of midnight. She did not wish her returnto be observed and talked about; she was in reality very much mortifiedby the condition of her own and her daughters' wardrobe.
Consequently, though they made their noon camp so near to theirjourney's end, they rested there until San Antonio was asleep anddreaming. It was the happiest rest of all the delightful ones theyhad known. The knowledge that it was the last stage of a journey soremarkable, made every one attach a certain tender value to the hoursnever to come back to the experiences never to be repeated.
The Senora was gay as a child; Isabel shared and accentuated herenthusiasms; Luis was expressing his happiness in a variety of songs;now glorifying his love in some pretty romance or serenade, againmusically assuring liberty, or Texas, that he would be delighted at anymoment to lay down his life for their sakes. Antonia was quite as muchexcited in her own way, which was naturally a much quieter way; andLopez sat under a great pecan-tree, smoking his cigarito with placidsmiles and admiring glances at every one.
As the sun set, the full moon rose as it rises nowhere but over Texan orAsian plains; golden, glorious, seeming to fill the whole heaven and thewhole earth with an unspeakable radiance; softly glowing, exquisitely,magically beautifying. The commonest thing under it was transfiguredinto something lovely, fantastic, fairylike. And the dullest soulsswelled and rose like the tides under its influence.
Antonia took from their stores the best they had, and a luxurious supperwas spread upon the grass. The meal might have been one of ten courses,it occupied so long; it provoked so much mirth, such a rippling streamof reminiscence; finally, such a sweetly solemn retrospect of thesorrows and mercies and triumphs of the campaign they had sharedtogether. This latter feeling soon dominated all others.
The delicious light, the sensuous atmosphere, the white turrets andtowers of the city, shining on the horizon like some mystical, heavenlycity in dreams--the murmur of its far-off life, more audible to thespiritual than the natural ears--the dark figures of the camp servants,lying in groups or quietly shuffling their cards, were all elementsconducive to a grave yet happy seriousness.
No one intended to sleep. They were to rest in the moonlight untilthe hour of eleven, and then make their last stage. This night theyinstinctively kept close together. The Senora had mentally reached thatpoint where it was not unpleasant to talk over troubles, and to amplifyespecially her own share of them.
"But, Holy Maria!" she said; "how unnecessary are such sorrows! Iam never, in the least, any better for them. When the Divine Majestycondescends to give me the sunshine of prosperity, I am alwaysexceedingly religious. On the contrary when I am in sorrow, I do notfeel inclined to pray. That is precisely natural. Can the blessed Motherexpect thanks, when she gives her children only suffering and tears?"
"God gives us whatever is best for us, dear mother."
"Speak, when you have learned wisdom, Antonia. I shall always believethat trouble comes from the devil; indeed, Fray Ignatius once told meof a holy man that had one grief upon the heels of the other, and it wasthe devil who was sent with all of them. I have myself no doubt thathe opened the gates of hell for Santa Anna to return to earth and do alittle work for him."
"This thought makes me tremble," said Lopez; "souls that have becomeangelic, can become evil. The degraded seraphim, whom we call thedevil, was once the companion of archangels, and stood with Michael, andRaphael, and Gabriel, in the presence of the Holy One. Is there sin inheaven? Can we be tempted even there?"
The inquiry went in different ways to each heart, but no one answeredit. There were even a few moments of constrained, conscious silence,which Luis happily ended, by chanting softly a verse from the hymn ofthe Three Angels:
"'WHO LIKE THE LORD?' thunders Michael the Chief. Raphael, 'THE CURE OF GOD,' bringeth relief, And, as at Nazareth, prophet of peace, Gabriel, 'THE LIGHT OF GOD,' bringeth release."
The noble syllables floated outward and upward, and Antonia and Lopezsoftly intoned the last line together, letting them fall slowly andsoftly into the sensitive atmosphere.
"And as for trouble coming from the devil," said Lopez, "I think,Senora, that Fray Ignatius is wrong. Trouble is not the worst thing thatcan come to a man or woman. On the contrary, our Lady of Prosperity issaid to do, them far greater harm. Let me repeat to you what the everwise Don Francisco de Quevedo Villegas says about her:
"'Where is the virtue prosperity has not staggered? Where the folly shehas not augmented? She takes no counsel, she fears no punishment. Shefurnishes matter for scandal, experience, and for story. How many souls,innocent while poor, have fallen into sin and impiety as soon as theydrank of the enchanted cup of prosperity? Men that can bear prosperity,are for heaven; even wise devils leave them alone. As for the one whopersecuted and beggared job, how foolish and impertinent he was! Ifhe had understood humanity, he would have multiplied his riches, andpossessed him of health, and honors, and pleasures: THAT is the trial itcannot bear.'"
"Oh, to be sure! Quevedo was a wise man. But even wise men don't knoweverything. However, WE ARE GOING HOME! I thank the saints for thisimmeasurable favor. It is a prosperity that is good for women. I willstake my Santiguida on that! And will you observe that it is Sundayagain? Just before sunset I heard the vesper bells clearly. Rememberthat we left San Antonio on Sunday also! I have always heard that Sundaywas a good day to begin a journey on."
"If it had been on a Friday--"
"Friday! Indeed, Luis, I would not have gone one hundred yards upon aFriday. How can you suppose what is so inconceivably foolish?"
"I think much of the right hour to undertake anything," said Lopez. "Thefirst movements are not in the hands of men; and we are subject to moreinfluences than we comprehend. There is a ripe time for events, as wellas for fruits: but the hour depends upon forces which we cannot controlby giving to them the name of the day; and our sage Quevedo has made apleasant mockery thereon. It is at my lips, if your ears care to hearit."
"Quevedo, again! No, it is not proper, Senor. Every day has its dutiesand its favors, Senor. That man actually said that fasting on Friday wasnot a special means of grace! Quevedo was almost a heretic. I have heardFray Ignatius say so. He did not approve of him."
"Mi madre, let us hear what is to be said. Rachela told me, I must faston a Friday, and cut my nails on a Wednesday, and never cut them on aSunday, and take medicine on a Monday, and look after money on Tuesday,and pay calls and give gifts on Saturday; very well, I do not think muchof Rachela; just suppose, for the passing of the time, that we listen towhat Quevedo says."
"Here are four against me; well, then, proceed, Senor."
"'On Monday,' says the wise and witty one, buy all that you can meetwith, and take all that is to be had for nothing. On Tuesday, receiveall that is given you; for it is Mar's day, and he will look on you withan ill aspect if you refuse the first proffer and have not a second. OnWednesday, ask of all you meet; perhaps Mercury may give some one vanityenough to grant you something. Thursday is a good day to believe nothingthat flatterers say. Friday it is well to shun creditors. On Saturdayit is well to lie long abed, to walk at your ease, to eat a good dinner,and to wear comfortable shoes; because Saturn is old, and loves hisease.'"
"And Sunday, Senor?"
"Pardon, Senorita Isabel, Sunday comes not into a pasquinade. Senora,let me tell you that it draws near to eleven. If we leave now we sha
llreach San Antonio in time to say the prayer of gratitude before theblessed day of the seven is past."
"Holy Mary! that is what I should desire. Come, my children; I thankyou, Senor, for such a blessed memory. My heart is indeed full of joyand thankfulness."
A slight disappointment, however, awaited the Senora. Without asking anyquestions, without taking anything into consideration, perhaps, indeed,because she feared to ask or consider, she had assumed that she wouldimmediately re-enter her own home. With the unreason of a child, she hadinsisted upon expecting that somehow, or by some not explained efforts,she would find her house precisely as she left it. Little had been saidof its occupancy by Fray Ignatius and his brothers; perhaps she did notquite believe in the statement; perhaps she expected Fray Ignatius torespect the arrangements which he knew had been so dear to her.
It was therefore a trial--indeed, something of a shock--when she foundthey were to be the guests of Navarro, and when it was made clear to herthat her own home had been dismantled and rearranged and was still inthe possession of the Church. But, with a child's unreason, she had alsoa sweet ductility of nature; she was easily persuaded, easily pleased,and quite ready to console herself with the assurance that it onlyneeded Doctor Worth's presence and personal influence to drive away allintruders upon her rights.
In the mean time she was contented. The finest goods in San Antonio weresent early on the following morning to her room; and the selection ofthree entire wardrobes gave her abundance of delightful employment. Shealmost wept with joy as she passed the fine lawns and rich silks throughher worn fingers. And when she could cast off forever her garment ofheaviness and of weariful wanderings, and array herself in the splendidrobes which she wore with such grace and pleasure, she was an honestlygrateful woman.
Then she permitted Lopez to let her old acquaintances know of herpresence in her native city; and she was comforted when she began toreceive calls from the Senora Alveda, and judge and Senora Valdez, andmany other of her friends and associates. They encouraged her to talk ofher sufferings and her great loss. Even the judge thought it worth hiswhile, now, to conciliate the simple little woman. He had wisdom enoughto perceive that Mexican domination was over, and that the Americaninfluence of Doctor Worth was likely to be of service to him.
The Senora found herself a heroine; more than that, she became awarethat for some reason those who had once patronized her were now disposedto pay her a kind of court. But this did not lessen her satisfaction;she suspected no motive but real kindness, for she had that innaterectitude which has always confidence in the honesty of others.
There was now full reconciliation between Luis and his mother anduncles; and his betrothal to Isabel was acknowledged with all thecustomary rejoicings and complimentary calls and receptions. Lifequickly began to fall back into its well-defined grooves; if there wasanything unusual, every one made an effort to pass it by without notice.The city was conspicuously in this mind. American rule was accepted inthe quiescent temper with which men and women accept weather which mayor may not be agreeable, but which is known to be unavoidable. Americanswere coming by hundreds and by thousands: and those Mexicans who couldnot make up their minds to become Texans, and to assimilate with the newelements sure to predominate, were quietly breaking up their homes andtransferring their interests across the Rio Grande.
They were not missed, even for a day. Some American was ready to stepinto their place, and the pushing, progressive spirit of the race wassoon evident in the hearty way with which they set to work, not only torepair what war had destroyed, but to inaugurate those movementswhich are always among their first necessities. Ministers, physicians,teachers, mechanics of all kinds, were soon at work; churcheswere built, Bibles were publicly sold, or given away; schools wereadvertised; the city was changing its tone as easily as a woman changesthe fashion of her dress. Santa Anna had said truly enough to Houston,that the Texans had no flag to fight under; but the young Republic verysoon flung her ensign out among those of the gray nations of the world.It floated above the twice glorious Alamo: a bright blue standard, withone white star in the centre. It was run up at sunrise one morning. Thecity was watching for it; and when it suddenly flew out in their sight,it was greeted with the most triumphant enthusiasm. The lonely star inits field of blue touched every heart's chivalry. It said to them, "Istand alone! I have no sister states to encourage and help me! I relyonly on the brave hearts and strong arms that I set me here!" And theyanswered the silent appeal with a cheer that promised everything; with alove that even then began to wonder if there were not a place for sucha glorious star in the grand constellation under which most of them hadbeen born.
A short time after their return, the Senora had a letter from herhusband, saying that he was going to New Orleans with General Houston,whose wound was in a dangerous condition. Thomas Worth had beenappointed to an important post in the civil government; and his labors,like those of all the public men of Texas at that date, were continuousand Herculean. It was impossible for him to leave them; but the doctorassured his wife that he would return as soon as he had placed Houstonin the hands of skilful surgeons; and he asked her, until then, to be ashappy as her circumstances permitted.
She was quite willing to obey the request. Not naturally inclined toworry, she found many sources of content and pleasure, until the earlydays of June brought back to her the husband she so truly loved,and with him the promise of a return to her own home. Indeed thedifficulties in the way of this return had vanished ere they were tomeet. Fray Ignatius had convinced himself that his short lease had fullyexpired; and when Dr. Worth went armed with the legal process necessaryto resume his rights, he found his enemy had already surrendered them.The house was empty. Nothing of its old splendor remained. Every one ofits properties had been scattered. The poor Senora walked through thedesolate rooms with a heartache.
"It was precisely in this spot that the sideboard stood, Roberto!--thesideboard that my cousin Johar presented to me. It came from the Cityof Mexico, and there was not another like it. I shall regret it all mylife."
"Maria, my dearest, it might have been worse. The silver which adornedit is safe. Those r--monks did not find out its hiding-place, and Ibought you a far more beautiful sideboard in New Orleans; the verynewest style, Maria."
"Roberto! Roberto! How happy you make me! To be sure my cousin Johar'ssideboard was already shabby--and to have a sideboard from New Orleans,that, indeed, is something to talk about!"
"Besides, which, dearest one, I bought new furniture for the parlors,and for your own apartments; also for Antonia's and Isabel's rooms.Indeed, Maria, I thought it best to provide afresh for the whole house."
"How wonderful! No wife in San Antonio has a husband so good. Iwill never condescend to speak of you when other women talk of theirhusbands. New furniture for my whole house! The thing is inconceivablycharming. But when, Roberto, will these things arrive? Is there dangeron the road they are coming? Might not some one take them away? I shallnot be able to sleep until I am sure they are safe."
"I chartered a schooner in New Orleans, and came with them to the Bay ofEspiritu Santo. There I saw them placed upon wagons, and only left themafter the customs had been paid in the interior--sixty miles away. Youmay hire servants at once to prepare the rooms: the furniture will behere in about three days."
"I am the happiest woman in the world, Roberto!" And she really feltherself to be so. Thoughtful love could have devised nothing more likelyto bridge pleasantly and surely over the transition between the pastand the coming life. Every fresh piece of furniture unpacked was a newwonder and a new delight. With her satin skirts tucked daintily clear ofsoil, and her mantilla wrapped around her head and shoulders, she wentfrom room to room, interesting herself in every strip of carpet, andevery yard of drapery. Her delight was infectious. The doctor smiled tofind himself comparing shades, and gravely considering the arrangementof chairs and tables.
But how was it possible for so loving a husband and father to avoidsharing t
he pleasure he had provided? And Isabel was even more excitedthan her mother. All this grandeur had a double meaning to her; it wouldreflect honor upon the betrothal receptions which would be given forLuis and herself--"amber satin and white lace is exactly what I shouldhave desired, Antonia," she said delightedly. "How exceedingly suitableit will be to me! And those delicious chintzes and dimities for ourbedrooms! Did you ever conceive of things so beautiful?"
Antonia was quite ready to echo her delight. Housekeeping andhomemaking, in all its ways, was her lovable talent. It was reallyAntonia who saw all the plans and the desires of the Senora thoroughlycarried out. It was her clever fingers and natural taste which gaveto every room that air of comfort and refinement which all felt andadmired, but which seemed to elude their power to imitate.
On the fourth of July the doctor and his family ate together their firstdinner in their renovated home. The day was one that he never forgot,and he was glad to link it with a domestic occurrence so happy and sofortunate.
Sometimes silently, sometimes with a few words to his boys, he hadalways, on this festival, drank his glass of fine Xeres to the honorand glory of the land he loved. This day he spoke her name proudly. Herecalled the wonders of her past progress; he anticipated the blessingswhich she would bring to Texas; he said, as he lifted the glass in hishand, and let the happy tears flow down his browned and thinned face:
"My wife and daughters, I believe I shall live to see the lone star setin the glorious assemblage of her sister stars! I shall live to say, Idwell in San Antonio, which is the loveliest city in the loveliest Stateof the American Union. For, dear ones, I was born an American citizen,and I ask this favor of God, that I may also die an American citizen."
"MI ROBERTO, when you die I shall not long survive you. And now thatthe house is made so beautiful! With so much new furniture! How can youspeak of dying?"
"And, my dear father, remember how you have toiled and suffered for THEINDEPENDENCE OF TEXAS."
"Because, Antonia, I would have Texas go free into a union of freeStates. This was the hope of Houston. 'We can have help,' he often saidto his little army; 'a word will call help from Nacogdoches,--but wewill emancipate ourselves. If we go into the American States, we will goas equals; we will go as men who have won the right to say: LET US DWELLUNDER THE SAME FLAG, FOR WE ARE BROTHERS!'"
CHAPTER XVIII. UNDER ONE FLAG.
"And through thee I believe In the noble and great, who are gone."
"Yes! I believe that there lived Others like thee in the past. Not like the men of the crowd. Who all around me to-day, Bluster, or cringe, and make life Hideous, and arid, and vile, But souls temper'd with fire, Fervent, heroic, and good; Helpers, and friends of mankind." --ARNOLD.
"Our armor now may rust, our idle scimitars Hang by our sides for ornament, not use. Children shall beat our atabals and drums; And all the noisy trades of war no more Shall wake the peaceful morn." --DRYDEN.
As the years go on they bring many changes--changes that come asnaturally as the seasons--that tend as naturally to anticipatedgrowth and decay--that scarcely startle the subjects of them, tilla lengthened-out period of time discloses their vitality and extent.Between the ages of twenty and thirty, ten years do not seem verydestructive to life. The woman at eighteen, and twenty-eight, ifchanged, is usually ripened and improved; the man at thirty, finer andmore mature than he was at twenty. But when this same period is placedto women and men who are either approaching fifty, or have passed it,the change is distinctly felt.
It was even confessed by the Senora one exquisite morning in thebeginning of March, though the sun was shining warmly, and the flowersblooming, and the birds singing, and all nature rejoicing, as though itwas the first season of creation.
"I am far from being as gay and strong as I wish to be, Roberto,"she, said; "and today, consider what a company there is coming! And ifGeneral Houston is to be added to it, I shall be as weary as I shall behappy."
"He is the simplest of men; a cup of coffee, a bit of steak--"
"SAN BLAS! That is how you talk! But is, it possible to receive him likea common mortal? He is a hero, and, besides that, among hidalgos de casaSolar" (gentlemen of known property)--
"Well, then, you have servants, Maria, my dear one."
"Servants! Bah! Of what use are they, Roberto, since they also have gothold of American ideas?"
"Isabel and Antonia will be here."
"Let me only enumerate to you, Roberto. Thomas and his wife and fourchildren arrived last night. You may at this moment hear the littleMaria crying. I dare say Pepita is washing the child, and using soapwhich is very disagreeable. I have always admired the wife of Thomas,but I think she is too fond of her own way with the children. I give heradvices which she does not take."
"They are her own children, dearest."
"Holy Maria! They are also my own grandchildren."
"Well, well, we must remember that Abbie is a little Puritan. Shebelieves in bringing up children strictly, and it is good; for Thomaswould spoil them. As for Isabel's boys--"
"God be blessed! Isabel's boys are entirely charming. They have beencorrected at my own knee. There are not more beautifully behaved boys inthe christened world."
"And Antonia's little Christina?"
"She is already an angel. Ah, Roberto! If I had only died when I was asinnocent as that dear one!"
"I am thankful you did not die, Maria. How dark my life would have beenwithout you!"
"Beloved, then I am glad I am not in the kingdom of heaven; though, ifone dies like Christina, one escapes purgatory. Roberto, when I rise Iam very stiff: I think, indeed, I have some rheumatism."
"That is not unlikely; and also Maria, you have now some years."
"Let that be confessed; but the good God knows that I lost all my youthin that awful flight of 'thirty-six."
"Maria, we all left or lost something on that dark journey. To-day, weshall recover its full value."
"To be sure--that is what is said--we shall see. Will you now sendDolores to me? I must arrange my toilet with some haste; and tell me,Roberto, what dress is your preference; it is your eyes, beloved, I wishto please."
Robert Worth was not too old to feel charmed and touched by thecompliment. And he was not a thoughtless or churlish husband; he knewhow to repay such a wifely compliment, and it was a pleasant sight tosee the aged companions standing hand in hand before the handsome suitswhich Dolores had spread out for her mistress to examine.
He looked at the purple and the black and the white robes, and thenhe looked at the face beside him. It was faded, and had lost its ovalshape; but its coloring was yet beautiful, and the large, dark eyestender and bright below the snow-white hair. After a few minutes'consideration, he touched, gently, a robe of white satin. "Put this on,Maria," he said, "and your white mantilla, and your best jewels. Theoccasion will excuse the utmost splendor."
The choice delighted her. She had really wished to wear it, andsome one's judgment to endorse her own inclinations was all that wasnecessary to confirm her wish. Dolores found her in the most delightfultemper. She sat before the glass, smiling and talking, while her maidpiled high the snowy plaits and curls and crowned them with the jewelledcomb, only worn on very great festivals. Her form was still good, andthe white satin fell gracefully from her throat to her small feet.Besides, whatever of loss or gain had marred her once fine proportions,was entirely concealed by the beautifying, graceful, veiling folds ofher mantilla. There was the flash of diamonds, and the moonlight glimmerof pearls beneath this flimsy covering; and at her belt a few whitelilies. She was exceedingly pleased with her own appearance, and hersatisfaction gave an ease and a sense of authority to her air andmovements which was charming.
"By Maria's grace, I am a very pretty old lady," she said to herself;"and I think I shall I aston
ish my daughter-in-law a little. One isafraid of these calm, cool, northern women, but I feel to-day that evenAbbie must be proud of me."
Indeed, her entrance into the large parlor made quite a sensation. Shecould see the quiet pleasure in her husband's face; and her son Thomas,after one glance, put down the child on his knee, and went to meet her."Mi madre," he whispered with a kiss. He had not used the pretty Spanishword for years, but in the sudden rush of admiring tenderness, hisboyish heart came back to him, and quite unconsciously he used hisboyhood's speech. After this, she was not the least in awe of her wisedaughter-in-law. She touched her cheek kindly, and asked her about thechildren, and was immeasurably delighted when Abbie said: "How beautifulyou are to-day! I wish I had your likeness to send to Boston. Robert,come here and look at your grandmother! I want you to remember, as longas you live, how grandmother looks to-day." And Robert--a fine lad eightyears old, accustomed to implicit obedience--put down the book he wasreading, planted himself squarely before the Senora, and looked at herattentively, as if she was a lesson to be learned.
"Well then, Roberto?"
"I am glad I have such a pretty grandmother. Will you let me stand ontiptoes and kiss you?" and the cool, calm northern woman's eyes filledwith tears, as she brought her younger children, one by one, for theSenora's caress. The doctor and his son watched this pretty domesticdrama with hearts full of pride and happiness; and before it had lostone particle of its beauty and feeling, the door was flung open witha vigor which made every one turn to it with expectation. A splendidlittle lad sprang in, and without any consideration for satin and lace,clung to the Senora. He was her image: a true Yturbide, young as he was;beautiful and haughty as his Castilian ancestors.
Isabel and Luis followed; Isabel more lovely than ever, richly dressedin American fashion, full of pretty enthusiasms, vivacious, charming,and quite at her ease. She had been married eight years. She was afashionable woman, and an authority upon all social subjects.
Luis also was wonderfully improved. The light-hearted gaiety, which tenyears ago had bubbled over in continual song, was still there; but itwas under control, evident only because it made perpetual sunshineon his face. He had taken the doctor's advice--completed his studyof English and Mexican law--and become a famous referee in cases ofdisputed Mexican claims and title deeds. His elegant form and handsome,olive face looked less picturesque in the dull, uncompromising stiffnessof broadcloth, cut into those peculiarly unbecoming fashions of uglinesswhich the anglo-Saxon and anglo-American affect. But it gained by thechange a certain air of reliability and importance; an air not to bedispensed with in a young lawyer already aspiring to the seat among thelawmakers of his State.
"We called upon Antonia," said Isabel, "as we came here. Of course shewas engaged with Lopez. They were reading a book together; and even onsuch a day as this were taking, with the most blessed indifference, aminute at a time. They will join us on the Plaza. I represented to themthat they might miss a good position. 'That has been already secured,'said Lopez, with that exasperating repose which only the saints couldendure with patience. For that reason, I consider Antonia a saint topermit it. As for me, I should say: 'The house is on fire, Lopez! Willit please you for once to feel a little excited?' Luis says they read,continually, books which make people think of great solemnities andresponsibilities. How foolish, when they are so rich, and might enjoythemselves perpetually!"
"Here are the carriages," cried Thomas Worth, "and the ceremony ofto-day has its own hour. It will never come again."
"Your mother and I will go first, Thomas; and we will take Abbie andyour eldest son. I shall see you in your place. Luis, bring your boywith you; he has intelligence and will remember the man he will seeto-day, and may never see again."
On the Plaza, close to the gates of the Alamo, a rostrum had beenerected; and around it were a few stands, set apart for the carriagesof the most illustrious of the families of San Antonio. The Senora, fromthe shaded depths of her own, watched their arrival. Nothing could bemore characteristic than the approach of her daughters. Antonia andLopez, stately and handsome, came slowly; their high-stepping horseschafing at the restraint. Luis and Isabel drove to their appointedplace with a speed and clatter, accentuated by the jingling of thesilver rings of the harness and the silver hanging buttons on thegay dress of the Mexican driver. But the occupants of both carriagesappeared to be great favorites with the populace who thronged the Plaza,the windows, the flat roofs of the houses, and every available place forhearing and seeing.
The blue flag of Texas fluttered gayly over the lovely city; and therewas a salvo of cannon; then, into the sunshine and into the sight of allstepped the man of his generation. Nature has her royal line, and shemakes no mistakes in the kings she crowns. The physical charm of Houstonwas at this time very great. His tall, ample, dignified form attractedattention at once. His eyes penetrated the souls of all upon whom theyfell. His lips were touched with fire, and his words thrilled and swayedmen, as the wind sways the heavy heads in a field of ripe barley.
He stretched out his arms to the people, and they stretched out theirarms to him. The magnetic chain of sympathy was complete. The hearts ofhis listeners were an instrument, on which he played the noblest, mostinspiring, the sweetest of melodies. He kindled them as flame kindlesdry grass. He showed them their future with a prophet's eye, and touchedthem also with the glad diviner's rapture. They aspired, they rejoicedat his bidding; and at the moment of their highest enthusiasm, he criedout:
"Whatever State gave us birth, we have one native land and we have oneflag!" Instantly from the grim, blood-stained walls of the fortress, theblessed Stars and Stripes flew out; and in a moment a thousand smallerflags, from every high place, gave it salutation. Then the thunder ofcannon was answered by the thunder of voices. Cannon may thunder andmake no impression; but the shout of humanity! It stirs and troubles thedeepest heart-stream. It is a cry that cannot be resisted. It sets thegates of feeling wide open. And it was while men were in this mood thatHouston said his last words:
"I look in this glorious sunshine upon the bloody walls of the Alamo. Iremember Goliad. I carry my memory back over the long struggle of thirtyyears. Do you think the young, brave souls, fired with the love ofliberty, who fell in this long conflict have forgotten it? No! No!No! Wherever in God's Eternity they are this day, I believe they arepermitted to know that Texas has become part of their country, and restsforever under the flag they loved. The shouting thousands, the boomingcannon, that greeted this flag were not all the sounds I heard! Faroff, far off, yet louder than any noise of earth, I heard from the deadyears, and the dead heroes of these years; the hurrahing of ghostlyvoices and the clapping of unseen hands!"
"It was like Houston to call the dead to the triumph," said the doctor,as he stood with the Senora in her room. He was unbuttoning her gloves,and her tears dropped down upon his hands.
"He is a man by himself, and none like him. I thought that I shouldnever forgive him for sparing the life of that monster--Santa Anna;but to-day I forgive him even that. I am so happy that I shall ask HolyMaria to excuse me the feeling; for it is not good to permit one's selfto be too happy; it brings trouble. But indeed, when I looked at Thomas,I thought how wisely he has married. It is seldom a mother can approveof her daughter-in-law; but Abbie has many excellencies--good manners,and a good heart, and a fortune which is quite respectable."
"And strong principles also, Maria. She will bring up her children toknow right and wrong, and to do right."
"THAT of course. Every good mother does that. I am sure it is a sightfor the angels to see Isabel teaching her children their prayers. Didyou observe also how great a favorite Luis is? He lifted his hat to thisone and that one, and it is certain that the next election will be inhis hand."
"Perhaps--I wish Lopez would take more interest in politics. He is adreamer."
"But, then, a very happy dreamer. Perhaps to dream well and pleasantlyis to live a better life. Antonia is devoted to him. She has a blessedlot. Once
I did not think she would be so fortunate."
"Lopez was prudent and patient."
"Prudent! Patient! It is a miracle to me! I assure you, they eventalk together of young Senor Grant! It is satisfactory, but extremelystrange."
"You had better sleep a little, Maria. General Houston is coming todinner."
"That is understood. When I spoke last to him, I was a womanbroken-hearted. To-night I will thank him for all that he has done.Ah, Roberto! His words to-day went to my, soul--I thought of my Juan--Ithought of the vision he showed me--I wondered if he knew--if hesaw--and heard--" she leaned her head upon her husband's breast, and hekissed away the sorrowful rain.
"He was so sweet! so beautiful! Oh, Roberto!"
"He was God's greatest gift to us. Maria! dear. Maria! I love you for,all the children you have given me; BUT MOST OF ALL, FOR JUAN!"
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Little dear.]
[Footnote 2: The loadstone in the bosom is a charm against evil; the bringer ofgood fortune.]
[Footnote 3: The flag of the Mexican Republic of 1824 was green,red and white in color.]
[Footnote 4: The Virgin appealed to in military straits.]
[Footnote 5: Copy from Department of War of the Republic of Texas.]
[Footnote 6: Sign of the Cross.]
Remember the Alamo Page 17