 | CHAPTER IV. Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot |  |
4. CHAPTER IV.
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
De essa tu bondad immensa,
Por que no ay mayor defensa,
Que contigo, para ti.
Lope de Vega.
We made our way down to the plains, determined to
travel on the prairies, as wide as possible from the accustomed
track of men, and if we met with any people
disposed to question us, to evade their questions, if possible,
to excite as little attention as we might, and that if we
there not be fearful odds against us, to attempt to defeat the
assailants. For myself, I was determined not to be taken
alive. The first day we traversed the customary grassy
plains, and we saw nothing but herds of wild cattle, and
one or two solitary Indians, who crossed our path on
horseback, and seemed quite as glad to avoid us, as we
were to avoid them. We had a kind of tent prepared at
night, for Wilhelmine; and Bryan and myself slept by a
fire, the one at the head and the other at the foot of the
tent.
We travelled unquestioned, and without annoyance,
some days, until in making a wide circuit among the
wooded hills, to avoid Chihuahua, we were encountered
by three persons, who hailed us as Patriots, but who were
unquestionably robbers. They fired upon us, and we
returned their fire, but at such a distance, that we received
no other harm than the wounding of one of our horses.
In passing the vicinity of towns and villages, we thought it
most prudent to lie by in sheltered retreats by day, and to
travel by night. A fortunate occurrence prevented us
from the necessity of further disguise or concealment.
We were making a distant circuit to the left, to avoid the
town of Coahuila. We were descending an abrupt and
precipitous hill, a little after sunset. Before we were
aware, we had descended immediately upon a small encampment
of soldiers at the foot of the hill, concealed
from us by thick trees, until we had almost stumbled upon
their camp. We motioned Wilhelmine to remain, and I
and Bryan, with as little appearance of concern as we
could assume, rode up to them. They saluted us with
great courtesy, asking us the news. We assigned as a
reason for having none, that we had come far from the
of course, inquired the news in return. They informed
us, that they were marching to Chihuahua, that a
great revolution had commenced at Mexico, that Iturbide
had been proclaimed emperor, and that all parties in the
capital, and the more populous provinces, had been merged
in this new one; that Royalists and Patriots had coalesced,
that the Royal commandants had resigned, that there was,
in fact, at this time, “no king in Israel,” and that “every
man did what seemed good in his sight;” that all that
was necessary, was, for every one to be able to guard his
own, and that they were marching to the south, to join
themselves to the imperial army. They added many
more details of the same sort. We readily perceived that
they were sanguine adventurers, possessing no exact information
upon the points about which they affirmed. But
their information, at least, went so far, as to relieve us
from all apprehensions of being arrested as Patriots, as
the dominant party now called themselves by that name.
I was every way happy in being thus relieved. It was
extremely painful to travel with a young lady, used to the
former habits of Wilhelmine, in this unpleasant way of
concealment. She would now, not only be relieved from
travelling in the night, and from many privations and
hardships, but I calculated soon to place her under respectable
female protection. I had had enough, too, of deserts,
and a surfeit of solitude. We had been faithfully taught
the comforts of crowded cities, of civilized life, and the
haunts of men. We immediately got directions for
Coahuila, from which we were distant little more than a
league, and we determined to spend the night there.
We arrived at the outskirts of the town at nine in the evening.
We made many useless inquiries, where we might
so much distrust, and people had been so long in the habit
of considering strangers as enemies, that we despaired of
gaining admission any where, and began to regret leaving
the shelter of the wood. At length I obtained a visit from
a nun, who, after carefully inspecting us, and especially
Wilhelmine, whose sweet and melancholy face could not
but secure for her a favorable opinion, and after returning,
and consulting with her sisterhood, came back, and admitted
Wilhelmine to entertainment and lodgings in her convent
for the night. On their recommendation, I and
Bryan were admitted to the house of a curé, where we
were comfortably and hospitably accommodated. It was
the first night that either of the three had enjoyed in the
luxury of a bed, for more than a year.
During this night, I lay restless on my down; and as
many thoughts and reflections passed through my mind,
as could well be crowded into so short a space of
time. You may suppose that I had some ties to this country,
that rendered the thought of leaving it forever, sufficiently
painful. The dangers and hairbreadth escapes
which I had experienced in it, only bound me to it the
more. Some invisible band, the band of destiny, I must
suppose, still tied my heart to it. I thought much too of
Wilhelmine. She wished to fly to my country. My parents
had seemed to her desolate heart, in place of the
friends she had lost. She was beautiful, amiable, and accomplished,
had strong sense, the most affectionate heart,
and the profoundest sensibility. She had an ample fortune,
and every new position, in which I had seen her, had
called forth new virtues and attractions. In every change
of condition, I had seen developed sweet dispositions, winning
manners, and the most exalted and generous principles
What more could I expect on the earth, than to
return with such a wife to my father's house, and enjoy
the gifts of Providence and fortune, in peace and privacy?
It was not vanity, that assured me she loved and trusted
me, and had only rejected my offer, because she was
aware, that the affection was not equal and mutual. Why
should I leave her thus doubly forlorn, as she would then
be? Still farther, I discovered in the recesses of my
heart, that although something was wanting in my feelings,
there was a train of thought connected with her, that rendered
the idea of parting from her exquisitely painful; and
the notion of her loving and uniting herself with another,
struck me with something of bitterness, that I had learned
too well to class under the name of jealousy.
My resolution for the future was, however, taken during
this night. It was, to escort her so far on her way to
the United States, as to put her under proper protection
if she chose to stay; or otherwise, for her journey to any
part of the country, that she might select. For myself, I
resolved to return to the centre of the scene of action, and
if, on investigation, I approved the cause, that I would offer
myself as a volunteer, in the armies of Iturbide. I informed
Wilhelmine, when I met her in the morning, of
this my resolution. She showed herself prepared for it.
She could not restrain some tears, but she added, directly,
“My mind has been prepared for this, or any thing else, that
can happen. It will be hard, to find myself entirely alone
in this wide world, and to lose such a friend, and such a
brother, at the last. I tremble, too, to leave you in this
wild and wicked country. But every one must fill up his
destiny. You can have little idea, how I shall feel at the
thought of leaving you behind me here. I do not complain.
detain me too.” “You know,” I answered, “my dear
Wilhelmine, that it is in your power, at any moment, to
arrest my steps, and to command my tenderness and my
duty, to the last hour of my life.” “I well understand
that, too,” she replied. “You are in no doubt why I do
not avail myself of a protection so dear to me. I am not
going to prove myself ungrateful for all that you have
done, by repining that you cannot do more. I remember
it all. And my pride, for I have plenty of it, little as you
seem to suspect it, is saved by the reflection, that my misfortune
probably resulted from your having seen Martha
first. My dear brother, I pardon you, that your heart
still clings to this country. Would that I were a man! I
would go to the wars with you. And no danger should
reach you, that my powers or my life could avert. As
it is, I cannot follow your steps. There is but one place
in this country, but what is hateful to me. I will go farther.
I have not yet strength of mind enough, to bear to see
you happy with Martha. But, if you feel that love and
honor call you to stay, it shall not be said, that you are
obliged to tie yourself to the steps of a fond and weak
girl. Leave me then, and return, and fill up your destiny;
and if there be any prevalence in my prayers, you cannot
be other than great and happy.
“Thinking over a thousand things last night,” she continued,
“it occurred to me, that you would ultimately
come to the resolution, which you have adopted. I learned
last night, in conversation with the nuns, that there is
now in this town a Protestant minister, or a heretic, as
they call him, with his sister, on their way from Mexico to
the United States. I made inquiries about them, and I
discovered, that the extreme jealousy of the Catholics, on
these times of revolution, has induced them to sift every
circumstance in relation to these people. It occurred to
me, that I would procure an introduction through you to
them, and if in your judgment, their characters suited, I
would put myself under their protection, and journey with
them to the United States.”
According to her wishes, I went abroad and inquired
for these persons. Such was the bigoted jealousy of these
people, that I found no difficulty in obtaining directions to
their lodgings. There was in the town a kind of hacienda,
where people from the States, who had begun in considerable
numbers to travel from the American frontiers
to Mexico, usually associated together. Here I found the
gentleman and his sister, introduced myself, and made
known my object. The gentleman was shrewd, guarded,
and cautious, and perfectly aware of the light in which
Protestant ministers were viewed here. My dialect, and
every thing about me, shortly convinced him, that I was
no spy, and he became communicative at once. He told
me, that his name and appellation were the Reverend
Thomas S—, a preacher of the Methodist connexion, who
had a local society in the valley of the Mississippi; that
his society had heard much conversation of late, about the
country in the interior of Mexico, and had received high
impressions of its mines, its fertility, and the richness of its
productions. They had, in consequence, become disgusted
with their own slow and laborious ways of gaining subsistence.
They had a fixed impression, that a revolution
was at hand in this country, and they wished to be among
the first, who, in a new order of things, might reap the
advantage of the bestowment of lands. They had deputed
this gentleman as a precursor, to spy out the land, and
the prospect and the advantages of gaining a tract
of land, where they might settle together. He had commenced
this journey with his sister, and easily ascertaining
how an avowed Protestant minister would chance in
that country, he had doffed the character for a while, or
rather sunk it in that of land-speculator. As such, he
had a passport. He had made his way to the city of
Mexico, and thus far back, without committing this character.
But the recent revolution having been rather
unfavorable to the influence of priests, and all parties being
involved for the time, in suspicions from every quarter,
he had begun to feel it more safe to take his real character
from his pocket. The natural zeal of proselytism,
which adheres more strongly to this sect than any other,
had operated on him, to hold forth to some Americans in
this city, in private. The thing reached the hearing of
the priests and magistrates, in half an hour, and nothing
would have saved him from the mines, but the relaxation
of all power, and the lawlessness and the terrors of an interregnum.
The sister was a well formed and rather pretty woman;
half fine and half Quakerish in her dress; of unlettered
shrewdness, and the severe sanctity of restraint and seriousness,
so characteristic of the profession. A certain
smile, that showed brilliant and fine teeth, and a pretty
movement of the head, evidenced a little spice of woman,
mixed up with the ingredients of the saint. The man
was large, finely formed, and broad chested; with long
hair hanging down his shoulders, plump and ruddy
cheeks, a rather handsome face, and a voice naturally
deep, mellow, and delightful, but which a vile trick of
the profession had accustomed him to twang through his
suit was solemn black, neither fine nor coarse, but made
with the most rigid regard to the Methodistic costume.
Occasionally, deep sighs, and groans half suppressed,
as if from distress of cholic, an assumption of canonical
and immaculate sanctity, frequent ejaculation of the words,
“Gracious Lord!” did not conceal from any observer, of
ordinary acuteness, the quickness of his apprehension upon
every point of worldly advantage. I made him acquainted
with the character, situation, and views of my amiable
protegée. When I spoke of her exquisite sensibility, and
great beauty and goodness, I perceived by his excitement,
that he mentally contemplated the conquest of such a
fair and amiable subject to his sect. When I mentioned
that her father had been ennobled, and had left her an
immense fortune in the British funds, his habitual caution,
and apparent elevation above all thoughts of earth, forsook
him, in his eagerness to obtain so promising a prize. The
flush of trembling impatience to close with me, and
undertake the job, actually and visibly flashed in his face.
He caught the aroused suspicion of my eye. He uttered
one of his suppressed groans, and in a moment he had the
air again, of being an abstract intelligence, and of having
the world under his feet. I felt internal distrust, not altogether
unmixed with something like indignation, at the
thought of resigning this frank and amiable girl, to the
care of a man, so capable of art and design. But the protection
was, in most points, better than could have been
expected, in such a place; and in some points, as good as
could be desired. The whole aspect of things, spoke
clearly, that no advantage would be taken, but that which
would result from the conquest of the mind of my protegée
in a state, peculiarly favorable to imbibing such impressions,
produce. He so readily comprehended, that I was not a
fit subject to work upon, and he so directly saw the
land lay with respect to me, that it was with the utmost
circumspection, and starting numerous small difficulties,
and easy to be vanquished, that he consented to be introduced
to Wilhelmine. He affected to be indifferent,
while the inner man was trembling with eagerness and
impatience. He finally consented, that if all parties desired
it after the introduction, he would consent to take
her along with his sister.
Introduced him and his sister to Wilhelmine. I was
half amused to see her cast her mild and pensive eye upon
the form of the sister and brother, and traverse them from
head to foot. The first impression was the obvious one, to
an unsuspicious mind, of the purity and sanctity of the parties,
and the perfect safety and propriety of their protection.
The next was, that curiosity would be gratified,
and that people so unique, and different from any thing she
had yet seen, would furnish her a new study. The subject
of her wishes was introduced by herself, in a few simple
words. As soon as she touched upon her melancholy,
and the cause of it, so fair an opportunity was not allowed
to escape; and with a deep intonation of his mellow voice,
and his eye cast upward, he descanted most eloquently
upon his favorite and kackneyed topic. The manner of all
this was perfectly new to the unsuspecting Wilhelmine.
She was melancholy, and she was disposed to deep and
religious feeling. The tones of his voice, and his manner,
so solemn and austere, struck a latent string, which only
needed this key note, to cause it to vibrate. When he
spoke of religion, as comprising all that we need on earth,
of the union of happy spirits above, and of the necessity
the heavy and disappointed heart of Wilhelmine, and her
first feeling was thankfulness, that in losing my society
she would thus have inexhaustible resources opened to her
by another, a character so saint-like and superior, and so
little to have been expected here. The observant eye of
the minister, quailed under the frank and straight forward
inspection of Wilhelmine. Parties could scarcely be better
satisfied with one another. All the arrangements of
preparation on her part, were entrusted to me, and they
waited her time for departure. He asked her, how soon
she would be able to depart, and with a voice trembling
with emotion, she asked me, when I proposed to leave
Coahuila, for that she could not think of departing for my
country, to leave me still in that place. Her departure
was fixed to take place in two days, as my arrangements
in her favor could not be settled in a shorter time.
In a long and confidential conversation, I promised her, if
I was spared, and circumstances admitted, to return this
way in a year, and find her out wherever she might be.
I gave her letters to my parents and friends, if she should
be disposed to continue her journey so far. I had all the
terms, upon which the parties were to journey or reside
together, drawn up and executed with legal exactness,
and the whole plan was settled on the footing of services
rendered on the one part, and full compensation on the
other. She afterwards had sufficient reason to see the
prudence of these precautions.
I hesitated, how to inspire in her confiding nature a sufficient
degree of caution, about putting her property in
these people's power, without, at the same time, inspiring a
distrust of them, unfavorable to her peace and enjoyment,
while in their society. I endeavored, generally, to insinuate
nature by the standard of her own heart; that man was
every where, and under all circumstances, a being so intrinsically
selfish, and at the best, so liable to be actuated
by mixed motives, that, for her own independence and
comfort, she ought to hold her affections, her confidence,
and her property, as much as possible, in her own control,
and her own keeping; and that little had been ever lost by
distrusting appearances, and being slow in confidence. In
fact, I turned sage and philosopher, and I gave the sweet
girl as many grave maxims, to regulate her department, as
the Don did Sancho, when he sent him away, to govern his
`Oil-land.'
When I had brought my chapter of maxims to an end,
she turned her melting eye full upon me, “And how came
you,” said she, “who, I think, are not so much older than
myself, to know so much about human nature, and bad
human nature too? I well know, you have not drawn
from your own heart. Have you seen a great deal of
evil? Can there be cause for distrust of people, who seem
always to have heaven in their eye? My dear brother,
you would tremble, if you knew how near I have been,
during the past night (for I slept not a moment) coming to
the resolution, to accept the alternative, that you had placed
in my power. This must be a bad world. Every one
says so. How tranquil and confiding I have always been
with you? Why should we part now?” “Indeed, Wilhelmine,”
I answered, “propose that question to your own
heart.” “It must be,” she replied,—“and I will remember
every word you have said, and when I want to be cautious,
and prudent, I will think of you. One thing I advise you.
Woman is changeable, you say. Unless you wish to be
burdened with a wife, depart quickly. Another thing I
that is, to divide my fortune with you. My dear father,
while living, intended to have made you equal with
us in this division. There were then, three; and there is
now but one. The reasons for carrying his wishes into
effect have been gathering weight; and in offering you
this, I am not thinking of compensation for kindnesses,
that are beyond price; but simply carrying into effect the
wishes of my father. To this I replied, that to a soldier of
fortune, rushing into the contest, in a revolution so full of
danger and uncertainty, money, beyond my immediate
wants, was of no use,—and to that extent, she knew I was
supplied already. But I promised that, on my return, I
would converse with her on the subject, and consent
to any thing, that would give her pleasure. The only return
I could make to so generous a proposal was, to offer
her the services of Bryan, so far as I could induce him to
accompany her; and his services would be to her invaluable.
To this she replied, that fond as she was of Bryan,
and much as he would remind her of me, that she could
never consent to take from me so faithful a friend, and
one who would be so necessary to me.
As he had always manifested a wish to go to the United
States, I mentioned to him my purpose. Said I, “Bryan, you
have always been wishing to go to my country. I have no
need of a servant where I am going; nor do I wish to involve
you in my dangers. You can now go on to my country
with Wilhelmine, and all the kindness and fidelity you
show to her, will be more than done to me.” He scratched
his head, and appeared to be in a study for a moment.
But Wilhelmine was away, and he felt himself at liberty
to say all that was in his heart. “Why,” said he, “your
Honor seems to want to get rid of me, and I know I am of
for I have heard it for certain, that whiskey it but little
dearer than water, and that every man is at least as high
as captain. Wilhelmine is a sweet good girl, and the prettiest
but one in the world. I would give her three fingers
of either hand any day. But, God love your Honor, I
would give you my whole body, and my blood and bones
into the bargain. If your Honor turns me away, good.
But your Honor don't think I'm such a coward as to be
afraid of the Dons. I go with your Honor, come devil,
come dobbie. Further, your Honor, I don't like that
queer minister-man, at all, at all. Bother him! don't his
voice twang in his nose like a trumpet? Do you think he
did'nt ask me my religion? And I told him my father's
to be sure. And then he run on such a rig! Oh! bother
him, he turn'd my brain round like a smoke-jack. But,
for one thing, the devil will have him, that's certain. He
said, that if I worshipped the saints, (Saint Patrick among
them!) I should go to hell! Think of that, your Honor!
I'm no coward. But I'd rather fight the Dons, than go
with such a man.”
The remainder of the time until we parted, Wilhelmine
passed for the most part with me, and in conversations so
affectionate and solemn, that they were not soon forgotten.
I pass over a most painful interval. The morrow, and the
parting came. I aided her on horseback. Bryan wept like a
child. The minister uttered his deep farewell. Neither Wilhelmine
nor myself trusted our feelings to words or looks.
Our faces mutually averted, I received the final pressure of her
hand, and heard the receding trample of their horses die away
in the distance. And you may imagine the loneliness of
my solitary apartment when I returned to it and found it
empty.
A regiment was making up in Coahuila for the city of
Mexico, and the service of Iturbide. There were some
adventurers from the United States in this regiment. The
members generally professed to be Patriots, and they thankfully
received me as a volunteer among them. The
society of my compatriots, and still more of Bryan, was
some relief to my mind in the bitterness of Wilhelmine's
loss. But how dreary did the selfish and heartless society
about me seem, in comparison of hers. As we drew
near to Durango, however, another train of emotions began
to supplant these feelings of loneliness and desolation.
My heart beat more rapidly at every step. Every thing
began to bring Martha before me. The new position of
things, in which her father's family was placed, might
abate something of the lofty tone of his feelings, and I entertained
hopes in spite of myself. Bryan, too, was delighted
with the thought of having the range of his fat
kitchen once more. Judge of our disappointment, when, on
entering Durango, I inquired for the Conde, and found
that he and his family had been summoned by the new
government to Mexico, under penalty of proscription and
confiscation of property, in case of refusal.
The father of Dorothea met me in the street, and insisted
upon my accompanying him home. He there brought
down the chronicle of events to the present time, and he
gave me a connected view of all that happened while I had
been retired in the mountains. Dorothea was the same
dashing and gay young lady, that I had formerly known
her, equally fond of dress and display; equally kind, and
ready to forgive my want of taste and gallantry, to this time,
and receive me still, and, if I still continued blind, equally
ready to console herself, and be on the lookout for another.
When she saw me determined to go on to Mexico, she caused
and furnished me with many things for comfort, and the
ordinary ornaments of a soldier, and begged me to accept
them in memory of her. In all this kindness, there were
few words, and little circumlocution. All seemed to be
mercantile and matter-of-fact business. Her father, too,
undoubtedly fulfilling her wishes, offered me a purse, with
soldier-like frankness. When I informed him, that my
purse was yet well filled, he smiled, shook his head,
and remarked, that in this country, a handsome young man
that was well with the ladies, had nothing to fear.
I might give you a sketch of the particulars of my journey
from Durango to the city of Mexico, but it would betray
me into details, beyond my purpose. To take a retrospective
view of what had been happening in the centre
of this empire, where I had not yet been, would be equally
foreign to my plan.
The regiment with which I had marched, joined themselves
to the imperial army at the city of Queretaro, and I
and Bryan continued our course alone to Mexico. Travelling
at our leisure, I omitted no opportunity to gratify he
eye and the imagination, as we went along.
The city of Mexico, though on an elevated table of
more than seven thousand feet above the level of the sea,
has still the appearance of occupying a low and marshy
situation, as in fact it does. It has been, as every one
knows, more than once inundated, and that for years, by
the accumulated water of the lakes, during the rainy season.
I was within a league of this celebrated city, before
I had a distinct view of it; and then the wide circuit, over
which arose so many spires and turrets, and above which
lay the murky smokes, and the dun mist of a city, gave
me magnificent ideas of its extent. None of the cities of
for the catholic cities have a greater number of spires,
generally, than the protestant. The approach to this city,
as is the case generally with the Spanish cities in America,
is mean; and you are led to them by clay cabins, and
through muddy lanes, where hundreds of domestic animals
dispute the mud and dust with the passing traveller. But
all this only forces the immediate contrast of magnificence
and splendor, more strongly on the eye. Travellers competent
to compare, have said, that few cities in the world
exceed this in the magnificence of its buildings, and especially
in the comfort and luxury of the interior arrangements
of the houses. Every one has heard, that this is
the city of churches, and notwithstanding my raised expectations,
the number, the grandeur, and solidity of these
colossal structures, were matters of astonishment.
There was an appearance of fête and display in the
streets and squares, as we slowly rode through them.
The coronation of the Emperor had not long since taken
place. The forced rejoicings of that occasion were hardly
over, before there was an illumination for three nights in succession,
on account of a recent victory, said to have been
gained by the emperor's troops over some patriot guerillas,
that still held out against him in the mountains. We
arrived on the second evening of this illumination. It was
produced with colored lights, and had a most brilliant and
gaudy effect. We rode leisurely along these magnificent
streets, crowded with passengers, the greater part of them
glittering with lace, while their dress terminated in rags.
Thousands of drunken and disgusting lepers infested the
streets, like musquetoes. The isolation of my own case,
contrasted with such a moving mass of life, amidst so much
fracas, and riot, and bacchanalian joy, fell upon my heart
every traveller of any sensibility has felt, on arriving in a
distant and strange city, with double force, the solitude of
my own condition, in comparison of these moving thousands,
so joyous and gay, who have their affinities,
even the miserable lepers their circles of friendship,
that lie together under their open sheds. In this vast
city, there was but a single family, that I knew, and
with that family, pride, with a multitude of other considerations,
forbade me from attempting to renew my acquaintance,
unless advances on their part, or very different
circumstances on mine, should call for its renewal. I
spent so much of the evening, in riding about the city,
comparing its gaiety and brilliance with my own loneliness,
that the night was closing in, before we had found a
shelter in which to spend it. Here I found my
knowledge of the language to be of infinite service. That,
and my wearing the costume of the country, prevented me
from exciting distrust and suspicion as a stranger. I
was directed to that splendid inn, called “Sociedad
Grande,” and there I obtained lodgings for myself and
Bryan. From an American gentleman of high standing,
who had long resided in this city, and who now had lodgings
at this inn, I obtained a succinct, but lucid and intelligible
view of things, as they were at present in Mexico.
Iturbide appears to have been a soldier of fortune, possessing
the single requisite of personal bravery. When
taken from the field, and there he seems to have been properly
competent only to subordinate command, he shows in
the cabinet a miserable destitution of every requisite quality
for a statesman. His learning was sophomoric and superficial
in a ludicrous degree. The hearer can hardly restrain
a smile, to hear him quote facts as matters of history,
never had an existence except in his own brain. The
laborious turgidness of his speeches, exposés, and projects
of laws, are but miserable parodies of the same things, by
his splendid precursor, Napoleon. His vacillating policy
is at once mean, rash, timid, and cruel. Chieftain after
chieftain has been unnecessarily sacrificed. I learned
here, that the brave and amiable Morelos had fallen a
sacrifice to the new order of things. My amiable friend,
Don Pedro, under an assumed name, corresponding to his
new dignity, was minister of war, and the deeper counsels
of the father Josephus, united with his, were supposed to
sway the measures of the imperial government. This intelligence
enlightened me in a moment, as to the ground
I had to expect any honorable place in the present order
of things. These men ruling the star of the ascendant,
it was even questionable, if I were safe in the city. On
a very little inquiry, and the most obvious aspect of things,
I was clearly impressed, that an honest man could have no
part nor lot in this matter, and had nothing to do, but to
get away, as fast as possible from the country, or remain
here in profound concealment.
The gazette of the next morning after my arrival contained
a long and pompous account of the illumination of
the preceding night, the rejoicings of the populace, and
a ball, graced with the presence of the imperial family. I
was reading along with careless indifference, and wading
through the strings of titles and orders of the several guests,
when my eye was arrested, and fixed upon the name of Doña
Martha, who was mentioned as the brightest star of the
constellation of beauties, that had blazed at the fête. The
comforting addition, of her being engaged to his Excellency,
the minister of war, and shortly to be united to him,
many other details, equally agreeable and refreshing. It
was in fact the common report of the city, and the
beauty, accomplishments, and wealth of the lady, were
matter of common discussion at the tables in the Sociedad
Grande.
My first thought was to fly from the city, which became
hateful to me, and to return on my steps and overtake
Wilhelmine, before she should have contracted indissoluble
engagements with another. But I found the influence
of some unaccountable motive still detaining me here.
I spent this and the following day, in wandering about the
city, viewing its churches and towers, its curious collections
of the plants of every clime, its noble arched
aqueducts, its beautiful Alameda, its astonishing contrasts
of meanness and magnificence, opulence and poverty. I
believe no other place on the earth presents them to the
eye in a manner equally glaring. I meditated deeply,
too, on the ruins of the ancient Indian city, and the countless
generations, whose bones had served to raise the
foundations above the surrounding morass. I could have
found sufficient amusement for weeks, in these meditations,
if my heart had been more tranquil.
On my return to my lodgings this evening, Bryan informed,
that a note had been left for me, in my absence,
and that he had vainly endeavoured to find out the bearer,
or trace the mode of its conveyance. “But,” said he,
as he handed it with a grim of satisfaction, “may be your
Honor can make out the hand.” In truth, I knew the fair
and beautiful characters, as soon as they met my eye. I
broke it open, and read with trembling eagerness these
words in the handwriting of Doña Martha. “Your life is
in danger, if you again go abroad unarmed, and alone in
or necessity? You have been traced out by enemies.
Be always armed, and with your servant. It were better
that you changed your residence, and gave out that you
were leaving the city.”
I pressed the lines to my lips, and blessed her as my
guardian genius in my heart, and began to think, that
the life, in which she interested herself so much, was
worth preserving. It convinced me too, that, retired and
unknown as I had thought myself, I had been discovered,
not only by this fair friend, but, I doubted not, by my old
enemies, the father, and minister at war, who, it appeared,
would never forgive my having twice saved their lives. I
was aware of my danger, from their bad preeminence.
But I had encountered so many dangers, and come off
safe from them, that I began to feel a kind of reckless confidence
in my destiny. At least, I said to myself, that the
man, who aspired to love Martha, ought not to allow
invisible terrors to make him seek a retreat or a covert.
I imparted that part of the billet, which intimated that I
was in danger, to Bryan. Our suspicions were mutually
confirmed by his informing me, that a stranger had accosted
him the preceding evening, in Spanish, and had made
the most minute inquiries about me, my place of residence,
my associates, and my objects here. Our conclusion was,
without hesitation, that Don Pedro had found me out, and
that his object was to destroy me by assassination, of which
I did not doubt him to be capable. I had too much reason
to fear, that if he could not succeed that way, I might be
arrested with other state victims, who were daily led to the
prisons, and there destroyed in private, or heard of no
more. It was the fashion for every one to go armed in a
city, where not a night passed without assassinations. I
that our lives should not be cheaply sold.
I, this evening, met one of the American officers, who
had been with me in the battle of Palos Blancos, near St.
Antonio. He had escaped from that battle, and had made
his way to Mexico, and now resided in the city, in considerable
estimation. I did not think his way of gaining his
subsistence very creditable. He had won large sums at a
gambling establishment in the city, and was soliciting an
extensive grant of lands from the Mexican government.
He informed me, in confidence, that he was associated
with a body of malecontent Patriots in this city, of increasing
influence, and embracing some of the most influential
men in the city. He informed me of their strength, and
numbers, their plans and resources, and invited me to
accompany him to their meeting. It passed, at present,
under the name of an Inquiring Society, and though the
government had some suspicions of the object of the meeting,
either there was not enough known to form a ground
of accusation, or such was the strength and importance of
the members, that the government deemed it most prudent
to wink at their proceedings. I reflected, that there was
little danger of my committing myself any more with the
government, than I had already, and as my feelings inclined
me to the Patriots, I determined to attend the meeting.
My compatriot introduced me to the meeting. It was
in a large subterranean apartment, in a retired quarter of the
city, which had belonged to the assay department, and had
been used as a chemical laboratory for private experiments
upon minerals. Here were met in dark divan those Patriot
chiefs, who were disaffected towards the assumed power
of Iturbide. I was formally introduced by the American
officer, as one who had fought honorably for the Patriot
of my compatriots, who had escaped from the unfortunate
fight of Palos Blancos were there, and they all bore
a united and strong testimony to the manner in which I
had conducted in that and other affairs. I was received
with great applause and consideration. The meeting
contained besides Americans and provincials, more than
thirty distinguished citizens. Among them, plainly but
superbly dressed, and in all the conscious dignity of his intrinsic
weight of character, I immediately recognised the
interesting exile of the mountains, who presided in the
meeting. From the kindling of his eye, and that cheering
look of recognition, which, under such circumstances,
gave it such a value, the whole assembly saw that we had
met before. In that way, which can alone be seized by a
superior mind, he briefly alluded to that meeting, and remarked,
that a man who had been so proscribed, and who
had been made known to him in the loneliness of his retreat
in the mountains, in the discharge of such tender
and interesting duties, as brought me to his retreat, could
not be deemed unworthy of the confidence of the meeting;
that he, for his part, welcomed there, with a full heart,
every native of the country of Washington, that the cause
called not for mere mercenary and unprincipled adventurers
from that or any other country, but for educated and
well principled young men, who had imbibed the free air,
the independence, and freedom of that great and rising
country; that he deemed the accession of such men to
their cause, an omen of good. The meeting seemed
to expect me to express my feelings, and I did it with the
utmost frankness. I averred, that though I had been unfortunate
in the cause of the Patriots, I was still as much
attached to it as ever. I admitted that I had visited the
their present situation, and that it had been my intention,
in that case, to offer my services to Iturbide, supposing
that the revolution headed by him, was favorable to liberty,
the great cause which ever had been and always
would be dear to me; that since my arrival, and an inquiry
into the character of the men and the measures now
prevalent, I had no more confidence in this government,
than in that, against which I had been in arms; that I
felt my heart united, as my hand, when allowed, should be,
with all honorable and well principled men, in fair and
decided opposition to the government; and that I would
aid with all my powers any measures, which would tend
to overthrow it, and rear on its ruins, a constitutional government
of the people's choice. I was cheered with great
and unmerited applause, and was immediately, by a vote,
admitted as a representative from the internal provinces,
and was called upon to give an exposé, or statement of my
views of things in that quarter, as related to the objects of
the meeting, the inclinations of the people in that quarter,
and generally, the power, wisdom, courage, and resources
of the Patriots. On all these points, according to their
request, I made a brief statement, which comprised all
that I knew, or supposed, capable of throwing any light
upon their counsels.
The point chiefly in discussion, was the extent of the
resources of the Patriots, in the various quarters of the
country; and whether the country was yet ripe for open
opposition to the imperial government. A general arrest of
the most patriotic members of the legislative council had
just taken place, and some of the members were of opinion,
that the excitement created by that arrest, afforded
a favorable opportunity to raise the banner of liberty.
this measure, had been advanced, my judgment, as a
man who had fought for the cause, and had seen much of
the issue of such undertakings, was asked. I spoke at
first in favor of a general union, remarking that so many
attempts had proved abortive, because the insurgents had
not been simultaneous, and had not understood one another;
because their movements had been desultory and unconnected,
and their enemies had been allowed to destroy them in
detail. I was for cultivating a general correspondence,
for ascertaining with precision the pulse of the country,
and avoiding those premature and rash undertakings, that
had hitherto been so fatal. This was the main theme of
my address, and I fortified the principal points in it, by a
strong reference to the scenes in which I had been personally
conversant. The speech, such as it was, gained
me the favor of some of the most distinguished members,
and was received with unbounded applause. My views
happened strongly to coincide with those of the Conde de
Serra, the wealthiest and most influential man in the city
or perhaps in the empire. He was at this time corresponding
secretary of this meeting,—in fact, its organ, and, next
to Victoria, its most efficient cement.
After the sitting was closed, I was highly complimented
by my American compatriots, and received many civilities
from the members generally. I had many pressing invitations
from them, to come and reside with them, during my
stay in the city. Among others, I received the most gratifying
notice from the Conde de Serra. He made very
particular inquiries respecting my objects, pursuits, and
employments, and the probable time of my stay in the
city. He gradually unfolded to me his motive for making
these inquiries. He informed me that he had been in
who understood different languages, and was a scholar.
He was pleased to say, that the fluency and correctness
with which I spoke their language, turned his thoughts
upon me from the first moment of my speaking; that in the
course of the debates, he had made inquiries of one of
my compatriots, in whom he had confidence, respecting
me, and the result had been highly satisfactory, particularly,
as he had been informed, that I had been regularly
educated, and was grammatically acquainted with English
and French. He proceeded to state the nature of the
duties, and the proposed salary; and closed, by asking me
if I was willing to accept the office.
I answered, that, from present impressions, it would be
precisely the employment I should have selected, but that
I wished a couple of days, for deliberation upon the subject,
and that in the mean time, for any further satisfaction,
respecting my character and qualifications, I referred him
to the Conde de Alvaro. He added, that the reference
was highly satisfactory, and that his family was in habits of
particular intimacy with that of the Conde. He proffered
the customary civilities of his house, and proposed to show
me the city and its amusements, in the interval, until I made
my election. This offer, upon deliberation, seemed more
and more gratifying. The employment was both respectable
and lucrative. The protection was that of a man, so high
in rank and influence, that although he was known to be
viewed with a suspicious eye by Iturbide, even he was
afraid of him, and brought no articles of impeachment
against him. I should have, in this office, an ostensible
vocation, and should not feel myself precisely on a footing
with those numerous gambling and speculuting adventurers
from the United States, who were on the top of this
My heart whispered too, that here I should either
see or hear from Doña Martha.
The Conde de Serra was a creole, and his forefathers
were born in the country. His income was almost
without limits. Under the Royal regimé he had been
considered the richest subject in the Spanish dominions,
and his manner of spending his income was generous and
princely. He was the high-minded and munificent patron
of every generous and noble undertaking, and held out a
sustaining hand to indigent genius and taste. He himself
was young and of fine appearance, and his family was reputed
the most amiable and beautiful in the empire. His
eldest daughter, named Laura, ranked, in general estimation,
next in beauty to Doña Martha. She was scarcely
fourteen, an age, however, at which young ladies are considered
marriageable in that country. For it is a well
known fact, that in these countries, both the mind and the
form are developed some years earlier, than at the North. I
received from my compatriots, the usual, but unnecessary
caution, not to let my eyes be dazzled by looking at the
sun.
At the assigned time, I waited on the Conde, and was
shown up the marble flight of stairs in front of his palace;
then, traversing a long portico, supported by Ionic columns
of marble, and shaded in front by laurels and palms, I
was conducted to an ante-room, set apart for the proposed
office, and connected with a splendid and extensive library.
I was here received by the Conde with marked politeness.
He informed, that he had felt satisfied before the inquiry,
but that he had called on the Condesa, the Conde being
absent, and mentioned that I had referred him to that
family. He added, “I obtained not a character simply.
believe her, you are a Hercules, a slayer of monsters, an
eighth wonder of the world.” In return for so many compliments,
I could only close with his proposals. I was inducted
into my new office. My employment consisted
much in translations, furnishing draughts of replies
for him to use, and suggesting alterations before he
signed certain papers. He wished me to add to these
duties, that of librarian and keeper of his very extensive
cabinet of minerals, fossils, and specimens in natural
history. I had an apartment in the palace, and boarded
with some young gentlemen of respectable Spanish
families, who belonged to his establishment, and had had
offices in the mining department. They were at pres
ent out of employ, the Conde not having chosen that any
member of his family should hold any office under the Imperial
government.
My duties were neither painful nor servile, and the discharge
of them brought me of necessity acquainted with
the geography and statistics of the country, and the distance,
importance, and population of places, and gave me a great
deal of exact and important local knowledge of the country.
Every facility that I could desire, to make myself acquainted
with this great and interesting country, was now
offered, and not offered in vain; for I put myself in earnest
to these studies, every moment in which I was not
occupied in the duties of my office. In the morning I
walked to visit the natural and artificial curiosities of the
city, and in the evening, always accompanied by Bryan,
and fully armed, to the theatre. The decorations and the
scenery were splendid even to gaudiness, and having said
this, I need say no more of the theatre.
I was again in those tranquil and satisfied days, of which
history has nothing to record. I only heard, incidentally,
from Martha; and then it was only the repetition of the
common report, that she was shortly to be married to the
minister of war. I had seen, that I was passing the scrutiny
of the Conde, preparatory to more or less confidence.
His increasing marks of confidence and kindness were
indications that I was rising in his estimation. I made a
new arrangement of his books, manuscripts, and drawings,
and a new catalogue of his cabinet of minerals and
natural history. I introduced into his correspondence a
new order, and, in fact, created in all these departments a
new and complete system. The greater facility of arriving
at information in this new arrangment, was obvious at
the first inspection. The Conde was delighted, and was
pleased to say, that my services were invaluable.
I had been a fortnight in the family, when I was invited
to dine with it, which I was told was a novitiate unusually
short. I felt it a duty, that I owed to my patron, to be
modestly but richly dressed in the customary costume of a
private Spanish gentleman. At the appointed hour, I was
ushered in with a numerous company of invited guests,
among whom were many distinguished characters from the
United States, and some from Great Britain, to the vast
and noble dining-hall. Very few of them spoke Spanish,
and I was naturally called upon, to discharge the duty
of interpreter. I was introduced to the Condesa, who
though the mother of a number of children, the eldest, as
I have remarked, turned of thirteen, did not herself seem
much advanced of twenty. She was fresh, blooming, and
beautiful, and by her affability and gentleness, made the
dignity of her rank and place forgotten in the deeper and
more interior respect, due to condescension and goodness.
were admitted into the room, in all the buoyant and frolic
gaiety of childhood. The elder daughter had, as the
phrase is, been brought out, and she had the usual brilliant
eyes, a small and light figure, a beautiful face, rather
inclining to pale, with a slight olive tinge, such as marked
most of the matured countenances of young ladies that I
had seen in the city. She went through the ceremonies
of introduction to the company, with the perfect ease and
familiarity of conscious rank and beauty, and with something
of the manner of one, that had been caressed too
much, and a little spoiled by the friends and dependents
of the family. When I was led to her, she eyed me from
head to foot, with laughing ease and composure. I felt
my cheek glow, when I was conducted from her to the Condesa
and Doña Martha, and I remarked the conscious and
rather confused smile in her face, when we were introduced
as entire strangers. The two lovely young ladies were,
of course, the principal objects of attention, after the Conde
and his lady. The dinner passed off as such great and
formal affairs generally do. It was impossible for even
the perfect ease of the Conde and his lady to banish
something of formality and restraint, which was increased
by the circumstance, that most that was said required
translation. The dinner, of course, was excellent, and
the wine produced something more of ease, and a more
unrestrained flow of conversation. It is well known, that
no dessert in the world can equal that of this city, and the
whole closed with coffee.
The foreign guests generally retired, and I took my hat
to depart with the rest. It was understood, that the ceremony
of the meeting was over; and Laura came skipping
up, and told me, that she had her father's orders, that I
wholly at the disposal of the ladies; for that there was to
be a promenade in the garden. It may be conceived, that
this was the pleasure above all others, that I should have desired,
and yet, knowing that Martha, and hearing that the
minister of war would be there, I felt no little embarrassment,
at the thought of such a promenade. The perfect composure
and assurance of Laura put me more at ease. I followed
her, and a number of Spanish gentlemen into the garden.
The sun was low, and the birds were cheering themselves
in his parting rays. A delightful coolness was in
the air. In the distance, were seen the snowy summits of
San Puebla, their conical tops rising far above the clouds,
and emitting, from their volcanic apertures, columns of
smoke, that in the rarefied atmosphere, arose to immense
heights. A sea of mountains, in all directions, bounded
this vast and lovely vale. In contrast with such natural sublimity
was the beautiful garden, the perfection of art, seconded
by nature, here so fertile in what is suited to a
garden. Shades, verdure, fountains spouting water high
in the air, which fell back with a delightful murmur into
marble basins; statues, cascades, arbors and serpentine
walks, pavilions and temples, in short all the luxuries of opulence,
and all the beauties of landscape, were scattered
over this delightful place. Nightingales were pouring their
long and sweet strains through their little throats, and birds
of the most beautiful forms and exquisite plumage were
fluttering among trees, that were natives of all the
different climates.
Various groups, and solitary couples were sauntering in
this lovely place; and the gay flow of conversation and
the reckless laugh indicated, that all enjoyed this charming
walk. The Condesa de Alvaro, and the Condesa de
Laura left the circle of which she had been the centre, and
came to me. “Confess, sir,” said she, “that these mountains
spouting smoke, this cool air, this pretty garden
and these fine birds, and finer ladies, are a much more
amusing study, than those books that you pore upon forever
in my father's library. I am afraid I shall crowd too
many good things at a time upon you, but I am going to
lead you to a young lady, that, I believe, has seen you
before, and I conjecture that the meeting will not be disagreeable
to either.” Saying this, she led me to Martha,
placing me between them, as we strolled along the alleys
of the garden. We had scarcely recovered from the emotions
produced by of this meeting, after so long an absence,
and had not yet come in possession of the full powers of
speech, when I saw my evil genius in an opposite alley,
and Don Pedro, with the measured insolence of his new dignity,
approached us. Martha turned pale, and the arm which
I held trembled. I returned as slight a bow, as his, and
a very meaning look of recognition passed between us.
“I came,” said he, “to Doña Martha, at the request of her
father, to solicit the honor of her company in this promenade;
but I perceive she is so respectably protected, and
so happily occupied, that I suppose I may dispense with
my offer. I shall only remark to her, that this gentleman's
name is in my department, on the list of malecontent
and suspicious foreigners. I should have supposed,
with the pledges given to her father, in recent conversations,
that she would not have been disposed thus to commit
herself and him with the government. Past events have
made this gentleman but too well known to us, and she
cannot but be aware how particularly disagreeable he must
be to me, and to the government.” Laura surveyed him
from head to foot. It was obvious, that the minister of
war was neither agreeable, nor terrible to her. She made
him, however, a very low bow. “Is this the face,” said she,
“which your Excellency wears, when you woo this young
lady? You must see that you are particularly agreeable
to her at this moment. As to this gentleman, sir, he happens
to be at his time under the protection of my father.
You are a very great man, no doubt. But I would hope,
that such protection will secure him from menaces and
rude treatment, especially among ladies, among whom he
is an invited guest.” “Your father's name,” he replied, “is
a sufficient security for his family; but will not be considered
by us, a shelter for all the factious and traitorous foreigners
that he shall choose to harbor.” “Now, that is fine,” she replied,
“and these airs wonderfully become the minister of
war.” I here remarked, that I had nothing to reply to this
kind of language in this place. The gentleman, no doubt,
remembered with pleasure some former rencounters between
us; that I could not condescend to spar, and call
names in this company, but hoped we should have the
pleasure of a more private interview, for all such conversations.
Laura added before he could reply, “Yes, I dare
say, the gentleman can take care of himself in such a meeting.
But just now, I wish him to have a little private chat
with this same young lady. I begin to suspect, that they
have known each other before. There seems to be some
strong dislike between them, and I want them to be a little
more acquainted, that they may shake off their prejudices
and make peace. I dare affirm that half an hour's tete-a-tete
in this pretty garden, will bring all things right between
them. Now, therefore, be it known, I, Laura de Serra,
eldest daughter of the Conde de Serra, ordain and declare,
although he is on your dark list; and I wish at the same
time to have the honor of a private walk with his Excellency,
the minister of war.” Saying this with the mock gravity
of command she took his arm, reluctant as he seemed,
and led him away.
I was once more alone with Martha, and it was obvious
that our time was precious. “The circumstances of our
former acquaintance, and the confidence you once reposed
in me, Martha,” said I, “justify me in asking, how you stand
at present with that insolent and detestable man. I certainly
may be permitted to ask, if the reports in relation to
you and him are true, why you have taken so much cruel
interest in me, as to intimate that I am in danger. If you
are indeed, as they report, to marry him, where can be my
danger? Or wat is life afterwards to me?” “I am not to
marry him, sir,” said she. “And if I were, I doubt not you
would be both well and happy afterwards. Let me be
frank with you. You know well, that there is neither affectation
nor pretence in the interest I take in you. I have
been informed, how you parted from Wilhelmine, and all
my good opinion of you is renewed. You are, no doubt,
acquainted with the history of the late revolution, that has
made that weak and wicked man, Iturbide, what they call an
emperor. Don Pedro, after my father's return to Durango,
was treated coolly by us all. I had hoped, after my
father had resigned his command in disgust, that he was
awakened from his dreams of ambition, and that I should
be persecuted on account of this man no more. But stung
by our neglect, he conceived a deeper and deadlier plan
of coming at his object, and his revenge. He and the
father confessor left us almost without notice, and made
their way to this city. They gave in their adhesion to the
the place he now fills, and for the other, the secrt but
efficient direction of the imperial counsels. The first
knowledge we had of this new order of things, was an official
notice, signed with the imperial hand, notifying to my
father, that he must come up to the imperial city, and give
in his adhesion, on pain of confiscation. We well knew,
that there would be little ceremony about executing this
threat, in case of refusal. The wretch knew precisely,
what string to harp on. I would not be understood to imply
the slightest want of filial respect for my father. I could
yield any thing to his wishes, even life; any thing but this
detested union. It is said to be in the order of nature,
that men, as they advance in age, become more attached
to wealth, as they lose their relish for every thing beside.
As all other passions, even ambition among them, become
enfeebled, all his desires seem to be concentered in that
single point,—regard for his immense possessions. My
father obeyed the summons, and carried us with trembling
haste to the capital. The wretch, now become the favorite
of the emperor, and all-powerful, plays continually upon
my father's fears of losing his estates. He suspends the
horrors of confiscation continually over our heads, and
keeps my father as true to his purpose respecting this
detested union, from fear, as he once was from ambition.
My father finding it useless to operate upon my fears,
like Don Pedro, has reversed all his former modes of influence,
and has adopted one a thousand times more difficult
to resist. He assumes before me the air of a supplicant.
He throws himself on my pity. The very idea of seeing
my aged father, so venerated by us all, one so high in power,
and so used to submission from others, himself assuming
the attitude of a supplicant to his daughter, is terrible and
old man, hastening to the same end with so many ruined
nobles in the old world, and that nothing will prop his
falling fortunes, but my consent to this union. He
points me to the consequences of drawing down upon him
the wrath of the weak and worthless emperor. Confiscation,
and poverty, and disgrace together, he assures me,
would kill him, and, indeed, I hardly doubt it. My mother
admits the worthlessness of the man, and hates him scarcely
less than I do, and yet insists that there are emergencies,
when a good child will yield all her inclinations, and devote
herself for her parents. She thinks this is a crisis of that
kind. But, sir, I feel that I have not this spirit of self-devotion.
To their tears and entreaties I reply, that hating,
abhorring him as I do, they may bid me die, but not marry
him. I propose to them, and I consent, to temporize; and
I promise so far to conquer my loathing, as to soothe him.
At present they seem satisfied with this, and their object
and mine is to gain time. We all hope, they will not be
able to maintain themselves on their dizzy eminence long.
In conformity with this plan, I task my feelings, to dance
with him, and receive his attentions in public. I even allow
him to hope, that if he is not precipitate, and allows me
my own time, I may, perhaps, in the end think favorably
of him. It is horrible violence to my feelings. Would
your Protestant system of morals hold this deception guilty?
All this succeeded well enough, until he found that you
were here. He discovered it by the emissaries of the police,
sooner than I knew it. The horrid flashing of his eye,
and the fiendlike expression of his countenance, told me
what he felt, on knowing that you were here. He cautioned
me against renewing my acquaintance with you, and expressed
a suspicion that I was privy to your arrival. He
of you. “Certainly,” said I, “Don Pedro, you
must estimate me an amiable and grateful woman, to think
of winning my regard, by threatening his assassination. I
say nothing of what he has done, and what he has forborne
to you. To me, you must think it a short way to my heart,
to murder that man.” The malice of his heart was sufficiently
visible in his pale countenance. But he affected to be
cool, and remarked, that I could not be so little read in
human nature, as not to attribute all this feeling to love,
and its natural attendant, especially in a Spanish bosom,
jealousy. “Why else,” he asked me, “should I have
any antipathy to him?” I answered in the bitterness of my
spirit, “The natural, instinctive, and everlasting antipathy
of bad to good, base to noble, hell to heaven.” You see,
sir, in what courteous terms we conduct our wooing, and
how little reason you have to be jealous, if I might flatter
myself that you could entertain such feelings towards me.
The time is precious. I am ready to believe that you love
me. I am but too sure of my own feelings, Your arrival,
so unexpected, has inspired in me the extreme both of
joi and terror. But destiny, I ought rather to say Providence,
I trust, watches over us, for you are fixed just
where I could have wished you to be. Iturbide is afraid
of your patron. I have conversed with that excellent man.
I have done more. I have laid open my heart to his lady,
and the family are your friends. If I can only gain time,
this imperial throne will crumble. You are now in the
way of the right sort of distinction. The times call for
such a character as yours, and you are in the place to avail
yourself of all chances. I need not urge you to cultivate
the favor of the family in which you live. You will become
distinguished; my heart tells me so. I have still
gain power, and the hand of Martha shall be at your disposal,
as her heart has long been.”
So fair a chance was not omitted. It is now all gone by,
but it was a most sober business I assure you at the time.
If strong emotions always render us eloquent, as they say,
I was eloquent; for my heart palpitated, and my pulses
were of feverish quickness, and I went through the series of
kneeling, protestations, and averments, with the best of
them. I was, probably, extravagant for a character that
she had rather considered as verging to the side of coldness;
for she almost smiled, as she raised me. “This is
very pretty,” said she, “and quite enough. I believed
all this before. For a while, sir, you must be guided by
me. Be prudent, and you shall have your turn of command
by and by. It comports with my plan to return, and
finish the evening in company with that detested man. I
do not wish you to endure the torture with me. Avoid
him as much as possible.” So saying, she led the way to
rejoin Laura and Don Pedro.
As we came up with them, I motioned to withdraw.
“Oh no, sir,” said Laura, “you do not so easily escape the
service of the ladies, when you are once fairly enlisted
under their banner;” and she withdrew her arm from Don
Pedro, apparently relinquishing it in favor of Martha, and
took my arm again. “Now,” said she, “which is the gainer
by this exchange? Mr. Minister at War, what think you of
the effect of this tête-a-tête upon this dear lady? Sir, you
Yankee American, have you been affronting her? I dare
say you have, you bad man! See the color in her cheeks.
She walked up to Martha, looking with pity in her eyes,
and asked, “Dear Martha, what has the bad man been
saying to you, that makes you so affronted? This will
Come, sir, and walk with me. I want to administer correction
to you in private.” With these words she led me
away from Martha, beside whom Don Pedro was walking
in sullen dignity, not knowing exactly upon whom, or what,
to vent his ill temper.
“How I hate that man!” said Laura to me, as soon as
we were by ourselves. “There is no love lost between
us, neither. The loss of his office and influence has turned
the head of the poor old Conde, Martha's father. To
save his estates, he is persecuting that sweet girl, to marry
this wretch. As soon as she came here, I saw that she
not only hated him, but loved another. She has confessed
to me, that you are he that has robbed her of her
heart. I am much astonished at her taste. You are
certainly a bad looking man, though a little more tolerable,
it must be allowed, than his Excellency, the minister. But
then, to palliate the matter a little, she says that you are
brave, and romantic, and generous, and good, and that
you have saved her from savages, and floods, and assassins,
and I know not what. While she was making you such
a reliever of distressed damsels, I wonder, it never occurred
to her, that I might take a liking to you myself.” “You?” I
asked with surprise. “Yes, and why not I? I have a heart,
sir, as well as another. And suppose it should have been
so, what then?” “Why then,” I replied, “I suppose, your
father would dismiss me with ignominy from my employment,
and shut you in a dark closet, and feed you on slender
diet, until you recovered your heart's health and
your senses.” “Your humble servant,” said she, “I perceive
you think me a child, and understand not the affair.
Why, sir, my mother was married before she was of my
age, and so are half the titled and endowed ladies in the
as a prophet. My father would look grave, and my
mother would shed tears and make a speech, and I should
be first sullen, and then fall to weeping, and to make me
smile again, they would consent, and you would be the
happy man. But mind you, sir, nothing of this is likely to
happen. In the first place, I love Martha too well. In the
next place, infant as you think me, I know men too well.”
I had heard, how rapidly the female form and mind are
developed in the southern countries. This most astonishing
specimen of the fact, however, struck me with surprise.
But it was an agreeable and amusing one. She ran on
with the volubility and idle rattle of a spoiled child. If
I presumed, for the moment, on this tone of her mind, perfectly
aware of it, she reversed the strain of her conversation,
and became sober, and sensible, rising at times to
sentiment and dignity. She displayed a most singular
combination of wit, simplicity, good sense, frankness, and
pride. Before we parted, she told me that she had taken
me and Martha under her particular charge, and that, if
we would both be on honor, and good behaviour, we should
see each other as often as possible, and that all that she
claimed for her part in the business, was to watch the influence
and progress of love, that she might know herself
how to manage, when her turn came.
At the next meeting of the patriots in conlave, the Conde
de Serra read a despatch to the meeting, announcing, that
the republicans had again unfurled the banner of freedom at
Vera Cruz. Sant' Anna, who had conferred every benefit
upon the emperor, and had been one of the principal in-instruments
in raising him to the throne, had, through some
of the intrigues of his miserable and misguided court, been
dismissed from the command at Vera Cruz, which had been
He immediately assembled his favorite regiment,
placed before them the indignities that he had suffered,
and gave them a strong painting of the cruelty and perfidy
of Iturbide; and he closed by exhorting them to throw off
his yoke, and establish a government of the people. The
speech was received with vivas, and the regiment immediately
adopted the resolution.
Immediately after this dccisive act, he sent a letter in
the form of an exposé or declaration, to the Emperor, reminding
him of all that he had done and suffered for him.
He adverted with indignation to the return he had received,
and declared, that by the last act of ingratitude, he
considered all his own obligations cancelled, and himself
called upon, to espouse the cause of a suffering and oppressed
people. He reproached the emperor with his
acts of violence, oppression, and cruelty, and assured him,
that the people would never again be induced to trust a
man, who had once violated all his promises. For himself,
he declared his determination to be, to reinstate the
congress, and to form a pure and simple republic, based
on the rights of man. Finally, he counselled Iturbide to
renounce his assumed government, and throw himself on
the generosity of the nation.
There were many debates upon the point, whether the
country was ripe for this insurrection, and, as usually happens,
different opinions. When it came my turn to speak,
I remarked, that happy as I was in my present employment,
I should not feel satisfied to be idle, while the banner
of freedom waved in any part the country, and that I
should immediately proceed to Vera Cruz, to offer myself
as a volunteer in the corps of Sant' Anna. A number
of the younger members of the meeting followed my example,
for the cause. The Conde expressed regret at the thought
of my leaving him, but cordially approved my determination,
informing me, that in his opinion, now was the time
for me to act. I was to set out for Vera Cruz with a
considerable body of volunteers, who were to unite
with others at Xalapa. The Conde exacted from me a
promise, that whenever the campaign closed, I should return,
and resume my duties; and in the mean time, invitme
to his table, until I departed. In this situation, it became
my duty to escort his daughter to the public places,
and the theatre. I accompanied the family to the balls
and tertulias, and was treated as one domesticated in the
family.
I intimated my gratitude, almost my surprise to Laura
at this g eat and unearned confidence. She explained, in
her laughing way, the cause of it. “In the first place,”
said she, “my parents have such an unbounded confidence
in my correctness and discretion, that pride, as well
as gratitude, calls upon me, so to deport myself, that they
shall have no cause to repent it. In the next place, my
parents think Martha the next immaculate to myself, and
Martha will have you to be such a paragon of purity, decorum,
and honor, that no harm can be extracted out of
you. Lastly, every one can see that you are so entirely
in love with Martha, that you might stumble upon a prettier,
and have no eye to see her.”
It was understood, that the minister of war was to start
for Vera Cruz, to take command of the imperial forces,
against Sant' Anna. I wished to remain until he was gone.
I had seen Martha but once since the first interview, and
then I only saw her long enough in private, to receive an
intimation from her, why she saw me so seldom; that it
plan. When the report was, that he had actually departed
from the city, I felt my breathing a little easier, and hoped
that I should at least have some moments with Martha,
before I departed for Vera Cruz.
I had sufficient intimation, though he was away, that
some friends of his had an eye upon me. I was returning
in the evening with Bryan from the theatre. Departing
from my customary caution, and thinking, perhaps, that
danger had ceased with his departure, we wandered into a
dark alley, at a distance from the lights. We were beset
by three or four bravos in the dark, with dirks and swords.
Bryan was slightly wounded in the onset. But we placed
ourselves against the wall, discharged our pistols upon
them, for fortunately we were both armed, and defended
ourselves against the odds of numbers, until the reports of
our pistols, and the increasing fracas, brought the city
guards to our aid and the assassins escaped. I had no
doubt that this was a part of Don Pedro's “reverend care
of my health.”
I spent the afternoon and the evening, of the day previous
to that on which I set out for Vera Cruz, in the Conde's
delightful gardens, and in undisturbed conversations
with Laura and Martha. We even had our coffee brought
to us in a little pavilion, and took it together. This, I
count among the happiest evenings of my life, marked, as
an old Roman would have said, albo lapide. Martha
freed from apprehensions, at least during the absence of
Don Pedro, and delivered for the present, from any intreaties
from her father, relative to him, had once more
that tranquil and delightful manner, which had so won my
interest on the evening of the thunder storm. Our intercourse
was that of minds, that had long been separated
to the obstacles, that had so long impeded it.
I received many charges from both, how to deport myself,
as regarded my society and exposures. I could not
have desired more marks of confidence, and tenderness
from either. Each gave me a ringlet of her raven locks
to be wrought into my sword belt, thus constituting me
their champion. Whenever the conversation became
gloomy, or turned upon the exposures and dangers of the
campaign, Laura with some of her whimsical remarks,
restored us to cheerfulness. At the same time that
Martha charged me not to expose myself, they both
bade me not return without glory. Martha assured me
that she foresaw, that this campaign would be decisive of
my fate, as well as hers. I had the privilege of banishing
the tears from her cheek, in a way which I leave you to imagine,
and after an evening too happy to be assorted with the
common color of our days, amidst a thousand kind wishes
for the success of their soldier, they sent me away.
From the Conde, I had flattering letters of introduction to
Sant' Anna, and the other chiefs, proposing me, as a person
who had sustained a high and honourable command
in the Patriot service, in the interior provinces, and recommending
me to a similar command in this service.
He gave me counsel with paternal kindness,
and seemed to take in me, almost the interest of a father.
With an affectionate shake of the hand from the Condesa
and Laura, and with benedictions and kind wishes from
him, I started once more a soldier of fortune and revolution,
for Vera Cruz.
| CHAPTER IV. Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot | |