 | CHAPTER IV. Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot |  |
5. CHAPTER IV.
En vasalage el cielo, el mar, la tierra
Y unica, y sola magestad blazona.
Quevedo.
The power that conquers all.
I THANK you for the invincible patience, with which
you have listened to these my small adventures, so modestly
related in the first person. Whether you are or
not, I am weary of this everlasting repetition of myself.
If your curiosity has not already expired in a surfeit and
an indigestion, and you persist in wishing to hear the end
of this matter, my story is hereafter to lie chiefly addressed
to your eye, and not to your ear. The operation of the
motives, and the influence of the views of the parties,
concerned in the most important event of my life, will be
best explained by the person most interested. You can
read at your leisure. You will hear much of me still.
You have had hitherto, to make due deductions for egotism.
You will have hereafter, to make still greater, for
a more blinding passion. I have been hitherto the hero
of my own story. I am now that of another's. Nimporte!
I gave you fair promise, that my trumpet would always
be blown, either by myself or another. I have the
high countenance and authority of the pious æneas, to
bear me out. You will learn in the issue, that I came,
legitimately by these letters, which are copies of the originals.
It is only necessary to explain a few circumstances,
that you may understand the order and connexion of
them. I have selected them from a basket, full of the
same materials, not because they are better than the rest,
my story.
It is only necessary to premise, that Martha had, in the
convent, in which she had been educated, a female friend,
a little older than herself, who grew into life with her, and
between whom, was sworn one of the eternal friendships of
young ladies, similarly situated. They were the companions
of each other's secret hours, and the confidents of each
other's secret thoughts. It so happened, that not long after
the Conde de Alvaro had removed his daughter from
the convent, and brought her to America, this young lady
married the Royal commander of the castle of St. John
d'Ulloa, at Vera Cruz, and traversed the ocean with her
husband to his station. With this lady, Martha had been
in habits of constant correspondence. Almost every mail
was charged with the burden of their secrets, and transmitted
the renewal of their mutual vows of everlasting
friendship. Every one knows, that such proffers, and
such vows, are worth just what they will bring in the market.
But as her correspondent is really sensible and
amiable, and as they preserved an unbroken friendship,
although they entertained different opinions, and belonged
to different politcal parties, it must be presumed, that there
was really a deep basis for their mutual regard for each
other.
These letters are exact transcripts of the mind of Martha,
and I confess, that I continue to think well of the
spirited and warm-hearted writer. They portray neither
a goddess, nor even an immaculate mortal, but a
lovely woman, with all her weaknesses and foibles. But
let me not start criticisms, upon what you are yourself to
read. Out of this bushel of letters, as I remarked, I only
select those, that keep up the thread of my narrative, from
regular chronicle of all that befell her, from her first
landing on the Mexican shore, to her residence at Durango.
They are chiefly descriptive, interspersed with many
moral reflections, and many of those wild, and if I may so
say, Ossianic expressions, so natural to a highly gifted,
and romantic girl of Spanish temperament, placed amidst
the vast plains and mountains of that grand country. After
her return from the valley of the Commanches, magna
pars fui, I have been I find, the most promment character
in the history of her thoughts and life. I am quite
satisfied, I assure you, with my historian, for I find my
ordinary actions are transformed into exploits. My exploits
themselves, if such they may be called, are the
doings of Jack the giant-killer. Like the renowned Swedenborg,
she finds a high spiritual meaning, where I had
none at all. In short, sir, read for yourself, and make
your own comments. You will find me a very paragon, a
pious æneas, or the analogy will be more exact. I am a
Charles Grandison, as near as any home-made Yankee
fabric can imitate the real superfine, of the British article.
All that I shall say farther is, that the name of Martha's
fair correspondent at St. John d'Ulloa, is Doña Jacinta
Escarra, and that I was afterwards honored with an introduction
to her, and found her extremely beautiful and
amiable. I now leave you to discuss this morceau at your
leisure. When you have finished it, say so, and I am
ready, if you continue so minded, to eke out the remaining
chapter of my history up to this time.
“I informed you in my last, of my arrival here from
Durango. My father was in a continual fret of impatience,
the decree of confiscation. That terrible word confiscation!
There is nothing on earth I hate like Don Pedro,
and the worst name I can call him, is Confiscation. I am
wholly unable to conceive how, or why old men should
become so intensely fond of money, about the time that
they cease to be able to make any use of it. I believe,
he loves me, as the next best thing to money, and the
power he has lost, As to my dear, good mother, he may
have loved her once; but that is a thing quite gone by.
Do you begin to love your husband less, than you did at
first, Jacinta? More than once, on the way, he looked
sufficiently sternly upon me, reminding me frequently,
that if I had not been a perverse and disobedient child, I
should have been, at this time, lady of the minister of war,
and he, perhaps, prime minister! All would have been
safe, and I in a fair way to ascend the topmost round in the
ladder of eminence. I have found the advantage of
keeping up the fair ascendency that I have won, when
this hated subject is discussed. So I told him, that he
must have singular notions of the power of the said minister,
to communicate honor, for that he well knew, that he
was a coward, a liar, and an assassin; and I know not, if
I added other epithets; but I had plenty more in my
thoughts, and told him, that if it would comfort him to
have me die, I was ready to gratify him, but not in that
way. Upon the word, I had to encounter a long and bitter
philippic, by way of comfortable even ng domestic confabulation.
He rung upon the old changes, the folly and
idle romanticity of foolish girls, and the absolute necessity
of wealth, to any thing like comfortable, or respectable
existence, and that one week's endurance of real poverty,
genuine love, and a cottage, would restore my brain to
which I was now, in the wildness of folly, casting
from me. Then it was easy to digress to that dear
young man, and to say, that since that ruinous acquaintance,
all other men were liars, assassins, and all that
My mother, good woman, as the conversation grew
sometimes a little warm, put in a kind of neutral interpolation,
partaking equally of assent and dissent, attempting
to smooth down my father's brow, and remind me of
the rights of paternity. Between apprehensions from
Indians, patriots, robbers and Royalists, for we seem to
be equally obnoxious to all, and this last and most
horrid evil of all, confiscation, I had but an uncomfortable
time to the city. I had travelled the same journey
before, and had seen and felt the grand and beautiful
scenery. At this time, my heart was too heavy, and too
painfully occupied for me to have any eyes for nature.
Sometimes, a full sense of the claims of a father upon
his child came over me. I saw the real and corroding
gloom on his brow, the dejection of age, the sinking of
nature, the actual loss of place and power, and the contemplated
loss of fortune all pressing upon him at the
same time. The silent paleness of his cheek upbraided
me, I said to myself, “Why not conform to the wishes of
that dear and venerated being, thy father? Why not
marry this minister of war, and hate him afterwards,
as so many other wives are said to do? A husband is
but a husband, after all, and every one says, that in a
few months, it is all one thing. It would be so delightful
to unbend that father's brow, remove these terrors
of confiscation, and fill his aged heart with grattude
and joy.” Instantly as the thought arose, such feelings
of repulsion and disgust on the one hand, and on the
enough for the sacrifice, and I begged him to ask me to
swallow boiling water, or poison, and see if I was not an
obedient child. “Swallow a fiddle!” said he; “you are
very ready to do any thing that I wish you to avoid
that I do not doubt.” This little sample will give you
some idea of the standing of our thermometer of family
comfort, during this long journey.
We arrived safely at the imperial city, and I saw his
Excellency, my tormentor, the same tawny, grim figure,
more ugly and repulsive in his exaltation than ever, but
still rolling his dull, but terrible eyes of love at me, and
as full of the same nauseous protestations as ever. I had
promised my father, in good faith, to do every thing in
my power, in the way of civility to this man, that would
tend to ward off the terrible confiscation; so that he
would consent to my plan, to save time. So I threw into
my manner of receiving him as much civility as I could
command, as a sop to Cerberus. And then, how pleased
he was, even to childish delight! The vanity of any other
woman would have been gratified, to see him, to whom
every body else cringed, as the Indians are said to do
to the Evil One himself, in return living only in my
smiles. I must believe, the odious being loves me. How
earnestly I looked round among the ten thousand new
faces, to see if my beloved was not among them. If
there be any thing like mutual feeling, he will be here,
and I shall see him. Wilhelmine was a sweet girl, and
she was always with him. And I can easily see, that the
present and visible face has the best chance. I wish he
had had my picture. But if he thinks no more of me,
why should I think of him?
We have, as you know, one of the noblest houses in
emperor, as the elected of the heart of his favorite. The
palace was rather gaudy than grand, and there were
such swarms of whiskered troops along the staircase
and the antechambers, and at the levee,and every where
so many hundreds of cringing expectants, with meanness,
submission, supplication, supplanting, ill-concealed malice,
treachery, and disappointment on their brow. And
what an emperor! With a person half German, half
Spanish, the everlasting grin of deceitful and simpering
apparent good nature on his face, where,not withstanding
all his efforts to counterfeit dignity, licentiousness and low
breeding are indelibly stamped, and with a head as well
moulded for intelligence as a negro's,—such was the emperor.
The empress, the empress-mother, and all the
canaille of the imperial family, with their fine calico
mantillas, their pearls and diamonds, and sweetening
their imperial breaths with cigars, were all birds of the
same feather.
I was treated with great favor and distinction by this
emperor, who had really a bright complexion, almost
like that of my beloved. He condescended to tell me
that he took a double interest in me, the one on the
score of my personal merit and beauty, and the other,
because he knew me to be so dear to his friend, the minister
of war. In the first ball, which I attended, I had
the superlative honour to lead down the dance with majesty
itself, and for the remainder of the evening, I was
confined, by terms of treaty with my father, to the detestable
Don Pedro. Such a show of fine things! Such
a glitter of jewels, and blaze of diamonds! I assure you,
that by candle light, and in the magnificent saloon of the
palace, it was a spectacle sufficiently imposing to turn a
at least in point of glitter. There is a curious sensation,
in being associated with a man, to whom every body
does homage, and whose eye is the source of favor, of
life, and death, even if we know at the same time, that
this pageant, of such terrible energy from circumstances,
is intrinsically weak and worthless. There was a thrilling
sensation from the vivas, when we had finished the
dance.
When you come to anaylze this pageant, and contemplate
it a little nearer and more in detail, all the splendor
vanishes, and you see the whole show in its intrinsic
meanness and deformity. The men were, for the most
part, swarthy, ugly, savage, and even ignorant looking
beings, and the women yellow, awkward, and less informed
than the men. There were some brilliant exceptions
(myself for instance) who seemed to have collected
these frights about them, only to show themselves to
more advantage by contrast. Among these was the
beautiful and accomplished Condesa de Serrea, fair,
fresh, and blooming, with content and satisfaction on her
polished brow. She is a Hebe, yet has six children, all
beautiful. Laura, the eldest, is no more than thirteen,
yet smart, accomplished, and piquant, though not highly
beautiful. In conversing with her, you have the peculiar
interest of talking with one so petite and infantine,
that you feel the ease of conversing with a child. Perhaps
at the moment, while you are indulging this carelessness,
she flashes upon you with the grace and wit of
an accomplished young lady, and the intelligence, maturity,
and seeming experience of age. She has one of
those heads, that, according to the hackneyed phrase, is
older than the body on which it is placed. I have become
secrets. She gave me much grave instruction in relation
to my case, and she too, has discovered, that she
has a heart. She bids me be cautious, how I allow my
hero to appear on the Mexican theatre, for that I have
given her such an estimate of him, that she shall be
tempted to try a hand to supplant me. There is something
in this gay, infantine, spirited old woman, in the
person of a child, that I cannot but love. Her family,
you know, is one of the most distinguished in the new
world. The Conde enjoys the highest possible consideration,
and in fact his immense influence turns the balance
between the hundred contending factions here. He
is too simple in his manners, too much informed, too intrinsically
noble, to be in favour with the emperor, and
Iturbide both dreads and hates him; and he owes his
safety only to the circumstance, that the emperor dares
not touch him. My tormentor, too, hates him with the
ancient grudge of bad to good, and, forsooth, stigmatizes
him with the name, “republican.” Would you believe it,
(but this in your ear—you must not lisp it to your husband
for your life) I am something more than half a patriot
myself. Finding — a patriot, and the Conde de Serrea
a patriot, and Iturbide and his minister of war
what they are, who would not be a patriot?
We have imperial presentations, fire works, shows,
gardens, promenades, drives, the theatre, the churches,
religious festivals, balls, fandangoes, tertulias, bull-fights
—by the way I never see them,—and a beau, and that
beau his Excellency, who hangs to me, like an evil conscience;
and we have what my dear Francis used so to
admire,—the very writing of his name thrills my whole
frame,—we have mountains, snowy mountains, and
Puebla cherishing, as I do, fires under his snows, a beautiful
nature, a populous and splendid city, daily reviews
of troops, assemblies in the gardens and the alameda, and
an air so soft, so inspiring languishment and love,
and feeling as bland as cream. Yet I want something.
I want all. I need the presence of him, who
makes me feel that I have a heart; him, whose manner
of doing a good and a generous action makes me perceive
that man can be noble, and like God; him, whose
glance upon these mountains caused my eye to kindle with
the contagious enthusiasm; him, whose voice and manner
inspired within me high, and I might almost dare to say,
holy, thoughts. In short, away from him, I drag to these
scenes of the amusement of others, a body—they tell
me, it is well enough formed; but it wants a soul. I
feel the bland and delicious atmosphere. I look at the
mountains, pouring out columns of smoke, from under
their everlasting snows. I contemplate the most beautiful
and rich valley in the world. I hear the foolish people,
who have nothing else to say, talk of all this, as they
do of the weather, and say “How fine this is!” I stupidly
echo the remark, “How fine this is!” In short, I have little
reason to hope I shall ever see him again, and I am
equally incapable of enjoying nature or myself.
Our Lady of the Pillar preserve us! I have seen him
again, and my heart beats even now so loud, that it disturbs
my thoughts, and my pen. I never needed a second
look to assure me that it was the very man. I had
been driven to the alameda, with our old duena, who
was ill, and in company with my daily tormentor. The
He was walking in the streets, and an Irishman, formerly
a servant of my father's, was walking behind him.
How well I remember the calm and lofty port, the
countenance so animated, benevolent, and mild! I gave
a half shriek, before I recollected myself; and then it
was too late, for my countenance told the tale of what I
had seen. His prying and malignant eye soon discovered
in the group the person that had arrested mine.
He expressed ironical regret at the cause of my alarm,
and muttered something implying that he would
not have such terrible objects in the way, to annoy me.
I gave him a look that I trust he understood, and told
him that to filial regard to my father, he must be sensible
he owed all my endurance of his presence. “I know,” I
cried, “that you are equally cowardly and vindictive.
But, venture to touch a hair of his head, and I will move
heaven and earth, until an avenger of his cause shall be
found. Not that I have or expect ever to have any personal
interest in his preservation beyond the common interest,
which all ought to have in preserving the virtuous
and the good. In this country of distraction and crime,
we ought to preserve at least one good person. If you
really wish endurance from me, much more, if you
expect kindness, expect it only from using moderation
and forbearance towards him. Make no use of your bad
power towards him, and in the same proportion, you
will be sure of my taking a less active part in his favour.
If you would promise me with a pledge, on which I
might rely, that you would avail yourself of your influence
to protect him, I should be willing to promise in my
turn, never to see him again.”
He promised, (but there was a sneer on his countenance,)
should be his pledge and his guaranty, and that
he would not molest him, or allow, as far as his influence
extended, that others should. He intimated, that if the
event so desired by my parents, the emperor, and himself,
could take place, he would not only protect, but
charge himself with the promotion of the young man. I
thanked him for his kind intentions towards him, and the
honor he intended me, but assured him, that if the promotion
of the man in question depended upon that issue,
much as I wished it, it was likely to be slow in taking
place. The conversation here dropped—but I little
heeded the promise he made, not to molest him, although
in my eagerness to shield him from danger, I would have
made almost any engagement, to soothe this bad man.
Though I had little confidence in him, I felt somewhat
tranquillized by what he had said, and immediately put
every agent in my power in operation, to find where he
was. I soon discovered that he was at the Sociedad
Grande; and since then, what think you is my chief amusement?
He has an Irish servant, Bryan, who used
to live with my father, who is shrewd, faithful, and devoted
to me, next to his master. This man finds some
moment every day, in which he visits our family. He
repeats to me all that his master says, does, and even
thinks. Bryan assumes, on oecasion, to divine his master's
thoughts, when he is silent. You may be sure they
are all about me. I well know that all this is moonshine,
but I take the same kind of visionary satisfaction
in it, that people do in having their fortunes told. Bryan
promises first by his guardian saint, never to disclose
a word of all this to his master. I meet him in company
with our old dueña, who has a fondness for the Irish
even shows me, and he has a most wonderful talent for
imitating countenance, how his master looks when he
thinks of me. He assures me, that in consequence of
my intimation of danger, his master always goes armed,
and takes him with him, and that he particularly avoids
evening walks, so that he can be in little danger from my
admirer, except he bring him to a mock trial and legal
assassination. My apprehensions for his safety are much
moderated. Meanwhile the Conde de Serrea, who is a
naturalist, a chymist, and a philosopher, and engaged in
extensive foreign and domestic correspondence, and is
moreover suspected of having a Patriot party in this
empire at his disposal, wants a private secretary. Mr.
Berrian, among his other qualifications, is a profound
scholar, to my taste a doctor of all sciences, acquainted
with many languages, in short, to me a “great Apollo.”
It occurred to me in a moment, that this was the very
man the Conde wanted. Under his protection, I should
feel perfectly secure about him. They dare not touch either
the Conde or his friends. It is a family truly noble.
They have a splendid library, a gallery of paintings,
cabinets of natural curiosities, and all that; in fact
it is just the place that I could have wished for him. So I
introduced myself to the Condesa, his lady, and I told
her all about this wonderful young man. I am sure I
did not undervalue him, for she had all the while a meaning
smile, and occasionally added, “Really! surprising!
is it so! he is an astonishing man, sure enough!” To be
perfectly frank, I let her into the whole secret. I was
deeply affected, as I did it. She kissed me, and gave a
tear to my feelings and my story, and promised me, that
she would speak of the matter to her husband. Laura,
of her, for she looked wondrous knowing and expressed
a great curiosity to see, as she said, this eighth wonder
of the world. I hope, even if I dared flatter myself
that I shall ever have any nearer relations with him, that
I should not be so foolish and unjust, as to be jealous
He has a look that indicates him unshaken as the hills
But then, they say all men are vain. Laura has a prodigious
name, and is more pretty and piquant than a
mere beauty. The man must be a Phœnix, who could
stand her fascinations, if she chose to coquet with him.
I trust, however, to her pride; for, young as she is, that
feeling too has gained a full development. I trust to
the natural barriers and impossibilities of the case. I
trust to his steadiness,and I am sure he loves me. “More
than all,” I said, “in this family he will be improving,
he will be safe and happy, and I will not be so selfish as
to have a thought beyond that.” He was invited to attend
this meeting of Patriots, over which the Conde and
Victoria preside, and had the good fortune greatly to
distinguish himself in the debates. In fact, if he took
any part, he would not do otherwise. The Conde offered
him this place of secretary. He accepted the offer,
and has been in the discharge of its duties for some
days. The family judge of him, as I thought they
would. The Condesa, while pronouncing his eulogy,
sportively tells her husband, that it was a dangerous experiment,
to bring such a fascinating man into his family.
Laura puts up her pretty lip, and appears not to hear,
when in presence of her parents; but when she speaks
of him to me in private, she actually blushes, and manifests
a sentiment in common with all that see him.
Where, and what is the charm? Surely, it is not beauty
of kindness, of fearless steadiness in the truth and the
right, of that noble moral intrepidity, which shows that
he would do justice, if the heavens were falling over his
head. I know not, that I trace the feeling to right
causes. But that he produces feelings of this sort in
every one who comes in his way, that I feel to my cost.
In continuation.
I have been with him. We took a walk in the beautiful
garden of the Conde's with Laura. My heart was beginning
to expand with the highest consciousness of joy,
and Laura was chattering away to him in her customary
fashion, when what bird of evil omen should light
down upon us, but Don Pedro. Both the men started,
as though they had seen a serpent. Don Pedro affected
the Bashaw, the man in power, and talked to the other
in a style of menace. I wish I could describe the look
which he gave him in return. It said, however, plainly
enough, “Your worthlessness and the presence of the ladies
are your protection.” Laura, the dear child, has
somehow contrived to anticipate the experience of years.
She put on her stately airs with Don Pedro, and actually
took on herself the endurance of his Excellency, and
sent us off together on a beautiful evening to walk alone
in a lovely garden. If this man has any fault, it is a
disposition towards taciturnity. But you are not now to
learn, that I can talk enough for both. But I assure
you, the man became talkative and eloquent. He held
such discourse with his eyes too, and was so modest and
grateful, and so ready to be guided by me! Oh! if
I could always be as happy as I was for that
half hour's walk! He is delighted with his place.
The family is delighted with him, and I am delighted
We have, in some sense, tied up his Excellency to him
good behaviour. I believe after all, he partakes of the
homage towards this extraordinary man, and is afraid of
him, obscure and humble as he is.
How are you, my dear Jacinta, in that cage of your
on the resounding sea? Is your husband as dear to
you as ever? I hope when I see him, fierce royalist as
he is, yet to make him a convert to the cause of the Patriots.
I lean that way sadly myself. The refreshmen
of a long, frank, and cordial letter from you is almost the
only thing necessary to complete the present sum of
my enjoyments. I am too happy. I tremble and look
up in fear of some concealed and suspended thunderbolt
Commend me I beseech you to the Holy Mother, and
believe me affectionately, &c.
The standard of the Patriots is again unfurled, I am
told, and directly in view of your castle, in the city of
Vera Cruz. With how little ceremony they treat emperors,
and kings, and great men in these evil days, upon
which we are fallen. I suppose the royal cavalier, so
dear to you, sees with an equal eye the fighting of Patriots
and Imperialists. Both are alike hostile to him
and when these parties have mutually worried and
weakened each other, he, the third person, can with so
much the more ease fall upon the victor and destroy him.
To him all this fighting may be matter of indifferent regard.
Not so to me. A man dearer to me than liberty,
or country, or home, or all the world, except my
dearer parents, and, the Virgin forgive me! except my
mother, dearer than even they, is going to join himself
that I am a Patriot by instinct. Since I have been acquainted
with this man I have learned to read English;
I have been deeply engaged in the American history.
What a great country! What a noble people! Compare
their faces and persons with those of the people
here, and what a difference! There is something independent
and severe in the appearance and person of
these people. There is not a book in my father's library
that treats of them, or their history, but what I have
thoroughly conned. But to my story; I am extremely
cautious how I indulge in the society of this man. If he
learned the half of my impatience to enjoy his society,
I fear he would hold me cheap. For they say, at least
my mother says, that men will not love too much love,
or value any thing that comes cheap. In fact I dare
not treat myself too much, or too often with that high
and intoxicating enjoyment, and I economize every
moment of it, and feel as though I had acquired
a title to enjoy it by forbearance before the
treat. I affect a distance and reserve in his presence,
that appears to give him pain, as I know it does me. It
is true, he has not complained in words. But there is
often a modest remonstrance in his manner which taxes
me with cruelty, more painfully than any words he
could utter. We had a long walk together yesterday.
To give us countenance, and to screen our purpose, Laura
started with us, and as soon as we were beyond view,
she kindly left us to ourselves. How deeply this child
has read the chapter of the heart! And what was the
fruit of this solitary ramble? the very anticipation of
which was sufficient to rouse my pulses to fever quickness!
Why, we walked side by side most lovingly indeed,
fellow, and I sighed. He said Yea—and I said Amen.
He looked at San Puebla, which is now casting up ruddy
flames amidst its pillars of smoke, and his eye kindled
for a moment, but he soon returned to his sighs
again. Once he met me, as I well remember, with a kind
of saucy recklessness. But now, when he steals a
glance at me, his eye quails, and when to assist me in
passing, he takes my hand, his absolutely trembles.
My heart thanks him, for I feel that these are the tremors
of a subdued heart. He came out at last with the
principal secret, and told me that he was about leaving
this city for Vera Cruz. It was now my turn to show
emotion; and it was at first too great for words. As soon
as I became collected from the first surprise, I told him
that those who wished him best, wished him nothing
better than to stay where he was, and that it was a conduct
that militated against his professions to me, to leave
a place where he could visit me at his choice. He then
informed me, that the Patriot flag was unfurled at Vera
Cruz; that his principles, his predilections, and he added,
as his cheek reddened, his detestation of Iturbide
and his minions forbade him to remain in an inglorious
pursuit here, although he could at any moment look at
the town of the Mansion of Martha, where honorable
men his compatriots were rushing to the tented field.
He added, that his determination had been approved
by the Conde de Serrea; that he expected appointment
and rank in the Patriot army; that there was but one
vista through the darkness of his prospects to the only
hope of his heart, and that he saw no way for him, but
to cut his path through it with his good sword. I know
not if I give them rightly, but at the time I thought them
he had no hope of gaining me, but by gaining distinction
and power at the same time. I saw that his heart sunk
at the prospect of leaving me; and as he looked dejected
and on the minor key, I believe that I threw as much
encouragement as I well could into my manner. I am
afraid that he thought me too fond, for I think that I
pressed his hand and gave him well and fully to know
that, in me he had a tried and sure friend in the garrison.
Indeed more soft things were said than there is
any use in writing. I conjured him to take care of himself
and not be rash. I cautioned him against the assassin-dagger
of Don Pedro, who is to command the imperial
forces against the Patriots; and then I placed before
him the dangers of that sultry and sickly climate.
I conjured up so many horrors in prospect that my eyes
actually filled with tears, and I was obliged to turn
away to prevent his seeing them. He had harped on the
right string, and I became talkative. I said a thousand
things, and some of them I suppose more tender than
I should have said. I am sure that he discovered that
I was a traitor, for I expressed a decided wish that the
Patriots might prevail, and that he might acquire consideration
and glory; and if they established a new government,
above all things, that he might acquire influence
enough to save my father's estate from confiscation.
He clearly understood me to mean that, whenever this
should be the case, he would be the favored man of
my father, as he was now of me. And here, the man
habitually so guarded in the expression of his feelings,
fell into a most amiable fit of raptures, and made a great
many protestations of love and respect and all that, and
he talked so fast, and so fervently, and withal managed
At seven in the evening I was obliged to tear myself
away from him and see my persecutor. I told him so;
and told him moreover that when he saw with how
much patience I bore this torture, I wished him to
copy it.
I saw this hateful man. My parents have been saying
every thing but just enough to break my heart, in
order to have me do, or at least say something decisive
before he sets out on this campaign. I have a firm persuasion,
that it will be a decisive one; and may God
grant that it may for ever take from him the power of
tormenting me, or any one else. He, too, made his
speech and fell on his knees. To get rid of him, I assured
him that, if he would leave me free and unmolested
to the end of the campaign, I would give him a decisive
and final answer. He received it to be my intention
then to grant his request. How could I help it? I
wished to be sincere. It is for them who place these
temptations in my way, to answer for it if false hopes
are raised. At any rate, I am rid of him for the present,
and I breathe easier. I have gained time, and God, I
trust, will help the right cause. Don't you think that this
child Laura has threatened to like her father's secretary
herself! Certainly, she said when she admitted
that she was pleased with him, “You know it would only
be necessary to let him be informed of this liking; and
even if I am not as pretty as you, he would no longer expose
himself to the danger of assassination and yellow
fever, for one fine girl, when he knows that he could
have another fine one gratis. And then your father
being old, stingy, and wilful, will never consent to this
thing, and it will be only necessary for me to affect a little
would consent to any thing.”
In continuation.
Another proof of the villany of that villanous man,
his Excellency Don Pedro. Notwithstanding all his
protestations of burying the hatchet,and leaving this place
for the army in good will to my beloved, he went directly
from these professions to plot his assassination. He
was returning, as I heard it, from the theatre to his lodgings
through a dark alley, and he and his servant were
beset by assassins. Pistols were fired, and dirks drawn.
But Mr. Berrian and his servant played their parts so
manfully that they kept the villains at bay, until the police
came up, and one of them was apprehended. He
admitted who was his employer, and such is the present
terror of the power of Don Pedro, that the murderer
was discharged at once. The wretch has now left the
city. Heaven grant it may be for ever! And my dear
preserver, too, is gone! I comfort myself that heaven
has preserved him for some great and good purpose, or
he would not have escaped so many perils, which make
it seem as if he bore a charmed life. I saw him a moment
before his departure. I can never forget his manner
of taking leave. There is a reality in deep and
genuine love. With him the uncertainty and suspense
of his case, for certainly he does not want encouragement,
has given an air of sacredness and purity to his
passion in perfect keeping with his character. He said
that the favoured warriors of other days in my country
had generally carried to the field some little token or
souvenir from the lady of their hopes, but that the most
he could hope even from a fortunate return, would be that
my family would not absolutely disavow his cause, and
bitterest enemy. I replied, that nothing justified this
desponding tone. You know my feelings full well. In
these degenerate days people are but too apt to estimate
causes by their success. Return victorious, and
you may hope all that you wish. But when he grasped
my hand and said A Dios, I shed tears in abundance,
and said a number of foolish things, upon which the
wicked man actually pressed my cheek for the first time
with his lips. He is gone, and though for others a more
brilliant sun never shone, to me the blessed light of heaven
is gloom. I am dispirited and in tears. Heaven
preserve him! The blessed Virgin watch over him! If
he should fall, notwithstanding all my folly, he will
neverknow, he will never dream, to what an extent I
have loved him.
I envy you, for you are daily near him, who occupies
all my thoughts. And yet such are the horrible barriers
of party and opinion, your noble minds must be at
variance, and you cannot meet him, for he is a Patriot
and you are a Royalist. So once was I, and I think fiercer
than you. See this man, and but for your husband you
would be a Patriot too. But you are married, and for
your loyalty to your husband and your king you had
best not see him. We have had a large pacquet from
the Patriots, that is, the Conde has had one, and they
have had a battle, the Patriots and Imperialists, and the
latter had the advantage. Heaven be praised, my beloved
is safe, and Sant' Anna writes that, he behaved
gloriously. He was every where in the thickest of he
fight, hunting, I dare say, for his Excellency, my admirer.
influence and respect far beyond his nominal command.
Every despatch is full of his conduct and his praises.
I rejoice in his glory with trembling. Angels and the
blessed Virgin preserve him, and bring him back in safety
with his glory! To be admired and promoted in a
cause which the Conde espouses, must be real glory.
Then I read his own letter to the Conde written in Spanish.
The purity of the language and style, would have
done credit to the Royal Academy. Of himself he writes
with the perfect modesty and simplicity of a great man.
There was a chasm in the letter, and there, thought I,
had he dared, would have been love for me. I kissed
the white interval at the thought. He says, that Sant'
Anna is full of courage, that the Patriots are no ways
disheartened, and that the people are every day flocking
to their standard. Indeed the emperor himself looks
in doubt, and his eternal simper was this evening exchanged
for a look of anxiety, and he appeared the better
for it. He had a great deal to say about his Excellency,
and his being the firmest prop of his throne, and how
impatient I must be to hear from the army, and how
anxious for his return! This man of the muddy head
has not yet been admitted to the secret of my likes and
dislikes; and he is too destitute of penetration to see
what is most palpably passing immediately under his
eye. And then, having praised his Excellency, thick
and three fold, he began to anoint me in the same way.
There are certain little liberties which he thinks it a
great honor to bestow upon his favorites. He seemed
disposed to take them with me. I repelled them, and
in a manner, which could not be mistaken. I will aver,
he blushed even to his red whiskers.
You have made my heart glad with your letter. You
say, that you espouse no cause, that blinds your understanding,
or takes away the power of discriminating
truth from error, pretension from reality. That is like
you. You have taken interest enough in him from his
being dear to me, to inquire him out. You delight me
by saying, that his deportment has won all praise, triumphed
over envy, and even gained the applauses of
your husband. Every generous heart ought to feel the
difference between an unprincipled adventurer, and the
partizan, whose private life and deportment show, that
his heart and his principles are in the cause he espouses;
and who in private pities, relieves, and spares those
men for whose cause he professes to have taken up
arms. It is only necessary to look at him, to see that
the motives that have carried him to the field are neither
interest nor to take side with the strongest. There
is something that speaks out when the heart is in earnest.
I have never seen a man whose manner so strongly
evinces that every thing he does, is matter of conscience
and principle.
In continuation.
Heaven be praised! they have beaten the Imperialists,
and that too, when the tide seemed to have turned
against them. All admit that his intrepidity, coolness,
and conduct retrieved the fortunes of the day, and turned
the tide back upon the foe. He was covered with
blood and with glory, and yet came off from the conflict
unharmed. I have returned my Te Deum on my
Even my father seemed to doubt the Imperial cause,
and to waver for a moment. He admitted that every
one allowed the palm of admirable conduct to his
schoolmaster! I told him, that the schoolmaster would
yet play an important part here, and have a hundred
times as much real and efficient influence as these miserable
puppets that sustain and enact their parts in the ludicrous
farce of Imperialism for a day. But he is old,
and, Heaven forgive me! he is obstinate and insists on the
miserable old saw, that a “bird in the hand,” &c. and
concludes with the prophecy, that Don Pedro will return
in triumph, and that if there should be any overturn as I
predict, it will be the putting down the present emperor,
to put up in his place his future son-in-law. Bryan's favorite
saw “two words to that bargain,” came to my
memory in answer to my father's proverb. How I long
to see my hero!
In continuation.
Another battle and he is wounded! Oh, why cannot
I be there to nurse him, to read to him, and cheer him!
You have sent your surgeon to him, to dress his wound.
You would have won my everlasting love by that act,
if you had not ensured it before. Jacinta, if I have
any weight with the holy father, you shall be canonized.
How noble it is and how like you to do good to your enemies!
Enemies! There cannot be enmity between two
such minds as yours and his. I regret, for this turn, that
I am not a professor of the Order of Mercy. Then I
could go and nurse him without reproach. I have not a
doubt but I could help him more than your surgeon.
The report of the day is, that his Excellency is retreating
upon Xalapa. Then he is so much nearer me, and
They are marching strong detachments from this city
to the aid of the Imperialists, and the Patriot ranks are
filling up still faster. My heart exults in the glory acquired
by my beloved. But it is too expensive and
purchased at too much hazard. I awake by night, and
think I hear the guns, they are firing upon him. In this
view I could almost rejoice that he has received a wound,
not dangerous, but sufficient to detain him awhile from
danger. You will congratulate me upon one point gained.
My mother has become a Patriot, and in the presence
of my father, has expressed a decided opinion, that
their cause ought to prevail, and will prevail. She stated
at the same time that she was no longer and never would
be again opposed to my love, and that if I can gain my
father's consent she is perfectly willing, to break with
Don Pedro and give me to the other. I embraced her at
the moment and had almost stifled her with kisses. She
requested me not to caress her to death at that time, for
that she wished to live and see me happy. This full,
and decided expression of her feelings has not been made,
without raising a domestic storm. My father seems to
cling more resolutely to his ship now that it seems to be
sinking. But for me all my omens are of good. The
earth seems to have caught my delight! The city clocks
move faster! The birds have learned a new song, and the
very leperos seem good and handsome. At the Tertulia
without being conscious of it, every one seems to enter
into my joy. I am sure he will yet be mine. I have
always had a presentiment of it. What a sober, quiet,
domestic, stay-at-home wife I should make. I could
knit or embroider a gear at a sitting, so that he were
with me. I would live with him on Crusoe's island without
reverse.
I have this day received a package of your letters at
once. I do not wonder at your astonishment that you
have had no news of me for a long time. It is a miracle
that you should ever hear of me again as an inhabitant
of this earth. Oh! what have I not suffered? I have
lived fifty years in a month, and I have performed, Oh!
such a penance for my sins. Surely, I must have sinned
deeply. But I hope my trials have not been without
their use. I am sure that I am more sober; that I have
acquired some practical philosophy, and that my pulses
will never beat so tumultuously again. But you shall
have the sad story of my sufferings. The evening after
my mother had at last come out with that decided preference
for Mr. Berrian, that I mentioned to you; too
happy to sit still, and in a frame of mind to muse in the
moon-light and inhale the delicious evening breeze, and
think upon that man, I bade the dueña walk with me
and I took the direction of the lake, for we live near that
extremity of the city. It was very imprudent I grant
you, in these times of distraction and misrule. But I
felt so happy and in such a delightful frame of mind to
enjoy the evening! and I felt too as if I was strong in the
strength of his protecting arm. We had cleared the
city and were approaching the lake before we remarked
that a carriage with servants wearing the Imperial livery
followed us. An apprehensive suspicion flashed across
my mind, but was instantly driven out by a pleasanter
train of thought. We continued to walk on for nearly
half a league, and the dueña remarked to me that the
distance. Ashivering terror of some unknown danger pervaded
my mind, as I perceived that she remarked rightly.
We immediately turned on our steps for the city. The
carriage stopped in a notch of the causeway. Petrified
with terror, I stopped too; but not long, for a man muffled
in a cloak and followed by two servants made towards
me. I shrieked and ran as fast as the unwiedly
dueña could follow me. I was overtaken in a moment.
The stranger grasped me in his arms, and the servants
at the same moment caught the screaming and struggling
dueña Indignation and the spirit of my father returned
upon me. I sternly asked him what he wanted, for
that if it was my money and jewels they were at his
service. He replied that he was aware that I had not
so mistaken his object; that I could not but have conjectured
by whom, and for what purpose he was employed.
Lest I should still doubt, he told me that he was
ordered to convey me safely and respectfully, if I would
allow him, to Xalapa, there to meet my affianced husband;
that he was instructed to explain so much of his
object in order to allay any unfounded apprehensions,
and to set my mind at ease as to my destination. That
for the rest, he hoped I would enter the carriage that
waited for me, cheerfully, when I knew his purpose;
for in that case he was charged to use his best and most
respectful exertions to render the journey pleasant.
But that his commands were positive, and his business
urgent, admitting neither hesitation nor delay; and that
his instructions were to bring me to his Excellency at
Xalapa, respectfully, if I would, or forcibly if he must;
and he begged me to fix upon the alternative.
I put down the coward at my heart, and talked firmly
would be employed in such a purpose, or would commit
such an outrage upon a man, much less upon a defenceless
woman; that he might by brute force carry my
person to Xalapa, but that my mind was free, and I
spurned equally at his control and his master's; and that
I would prefer to yield a thousand lives in succession,
rather than put myself in his bad power. I cautioned
him that the times were dubious, and that his employer
might not always be, as now, in power, and that he might
one day be called to account for this evening's outrage.
More than all, I threatened him with the utmost vengeance
of a powerful father, who had but me, and would
deeply avenge this detestable outrage. He replied with
ironical coolness, that he had no idea of engaging in a
war of reasonings, in which I was sure to have the better
of the argument; and that he was happy to set my
mind at rest, as it regarded the interference of my father,
and that if I wished it, he would show me a letter
from him to his Excellency, the commander in chief, in
which the latter is authorized to take such measures with
me as he shall deem expedient, so that the result of
them be, that you are joined together in holy wedlock.
Having said this, he observed that he was in great
haste, and begged to know, whether he should have the
honor to escort, or to carry me to the carriage. It was
obvious that his purpose was fixed. Trusting to my
future chances, and judging that I should be able the better
to avail myself of them if I preserved my coolness,
I told him that I was aware into what hands I had fallen;
that I did not doubt his ability or his will, in a trial of
brute strength with a defenceless woman; that I preferred
settling the point with the master rather than the
me, I would trust to my chance to escape, or to awe
his master after I should arrive, and that I would go with
him; for that in the last resort of outraged liberty I had resources
beyond his, or mortal control. “Remember,”
I cried, “that I take this woman with me, and that you
pledge yourself not so much as to pollute me again with
the touch of your hand, and that I submit to this indignity
to avoid the stillgreater one of compulsion.” “Much
obliged to you, madam,” said he, with a air of grinning
irony. “You speak like Cicero. Every article of the
treaty shall be religiously observed, and if you are not
the first to infringe that article which binds us to mutual
silence, you are no woman.” He opened the carriage
door without offering me his arm, and I sprang into it
as though I were embarking on a party of pleasure.
He lifted the dueña in after me, mounted himself, closed
the door, gave a signal, and we were whirled away.
Words would but weakly portray my thoughts and
feelings. We were hardly passed the causeway from
the city, before we were joined by a number of armed
persons on horseback, and among others, I recognised
my father's confidential servant, which circumstance
instantly enlightened me as to the truth of what had just
been told me, that my father was privy to this outrage,
and not only consenting to, but aiding it. “This was the
unkindest cut of all.” I was obliged to think that he was
seeking what was my happiness, according to his notion
of it, in order to avoid thinking of my father in a way
the very thought of which would be terrible to my heart.
We drove on in silence; for when the man made a
movement as if to speak, I insisted upon the terms of the
treaty. I heard the distant tones of the bells in the city
faded away but the rattling of the wheels and the trample
of the horses. All hope of rescue or return was at
an end.
We stopped for a moment, and I called my father's
servant by name, and asked him the use of carrying me
so far from home to excite consternation and alarm at
least, with my mother, only to have the pleasure of carrying
me back again? The man replied (with a shortness
which evinced, that he had nothing to fear,) that he
would answer all this to my father, and to no one else.
I contented myself with hoping the pleasure of being
one day able to punish his insolence, and I relapsed
into my former silence.
At three in the morning we came to the mountains.
The person who was with us in the coach descended,
and made a motion for me to follow him. I perceived
that the whole escort amounted to twenty persons.
The master of the gang told me that he was obliged
so far to infringe the treaty, as to inform me that we
were to tarry here until the rising of the sun, and that I
should be obliged to proceed the rest of the way on a
mule, and that he hoped I would devote the interval to
rest, for that the remainder of the journey would be fatiguing.
I went in to the meson, and was shown by the
servant to a bed, and my dueña had one prepared beside
me. I called up the recollections of Spanish romances
I had read, in which, under the aforesaid provisions,
distressed damsels sat up all night. But in disregard
to the precedent I reflected that I should need all
my strength and composure for the scenes that were before
me, and that, to make the best of my present situation,
would be most likely to give me energy and endurance,
I went to bed, and dreamed that Mr. Berrian
rode up, the handsomest officer I had ever seen, at the
head of a fine regiment, and that at the sight of him all
my persecutors shifted for themselves; and I was dreaming
further, and would have dreamed on in this way
for ever, when I was awakened by the summons of my
conductor. I arose, was dressed, mounted my mule,
and requested them to lead on. In the multitude of my
sad thoughts within me, as we were slowly mounting one
hill after another, I reflected, that I was the first distressed
damsel, so far as I had read, who accompanied
those who carried her off, so peaceably and voluntarily.
I quieted this uneasy reflection by considering again,
that distressed damsels, if they had good sense, were
as strongly called upon to use it, as others, and that it
was better to bear the yoke willingly, which I plainly
saw I must bear at some rate. Besides, I hoped that
an apparent submission to my fate might throw these
people off their guard, and allow me the only chance
which the case admitted of escape. So I made a grand
effort to exclude every object from my thoughts, but the
delightful one of my recent dream.
In this way we advanced constantly, but slowly,
avoiding, as I discovered, the great road, and following
for the most part mule-paths among the mountains, until
we arrived in view of the beautiful city of Xalapa. It
was a lovely view to me, even in the deplorable situation
in which I was placed. Cradled among mountains, its
air is balm, its scenery inspiring, and the blue of its atmosphere
more soft than that of any place that I had
ever seen. At sight of the town my heart began to palpitate,
and I was alternately faint and then my face
that of the Virgin Mother, and as though there were
relief and protection in the name; the spirit of my fathers
began to stir within me, and indignation began to inspire
me with the requisite self-possession. It was just
bright morning, and the morning gun was fired in the
city, just as we halted. I was left under guard of the
rest, and my conductor went forward, as I suppose, to
report his progress and success to his employer. It was
nearly an hour before he returned, and I had a fine opportunity
to meditate how I should conduct in the approaching
emergency. I revolved every conceivable
plan of address and action, and ended by feeling the
impossibility of anticipating a conduct proper for every
supposable case, and determined simply to act according
to circumstances.
My conductor returned, and the escort marched
through various streets in the city. It halted at last in
front of a spacious and splendid building, which they
called the palace. I was ordered to alight, and my
conductor led the way up a flight of marble stairs to a
piazza, from which a door opened into a spacious saloon.
A lady dressed gaily, and with rather a handsome person,
but of a bold and disagreeable manner, requested
me to be seated. She informed me that his Excellency
the commanding general, would have the honor to wait
upon me as soon as he had finished some important business
that could not be deferred. I replied, that it was a
thing altogether undesired on my part to see his Excellency,
as she called him, at all; and that the longer his
important duties detained him, the better I should be
pleased. “Indeed, madam,” said she, “that is astonishing!
I should have supposed that ladies were more
noble general has won every heart here. I am told,
madam, that he has done you the infinite honor to elect
you for his bride, and that with the consent of your
noble father he has brought you here to celebrate the
nuptials. You can scarcely imagine how much you will
be envied this distinguished honor. You have only
to fear that some jealous rival will mix poison with your
beverage before it reaches you.” I found the drift of
her discourse, and simply replied, “Madam, I have not
the honor of knowing you, nor the taste to like you,
and when you have said all that you have on your
mind, I hope you will have the goodness to relieve me of
the pleasure of your company.” She made a low and
sweeping courtesy, and said that she felt very much oppressed
at heart, that she had not the good fortune to
please me in the same degree as she had long had
my future husband; that, as to leaving the elected
bride of his Excellency alone, just on her introduction
to his palace, and on the eve of being united to him,
was a thing not to be thought of, and that the general
would never forgive her such rudeness. I smiled in her
face, threw as much contempt as I could into my manner,
and reclined on the sofa with the assumed ease and
insolence of a high-bred lady and made up my countenance
for meeting his Excellency.
It was nearly noon when he came, and if I had not
had such just cause for indignation and terror, I should
have pitied the wretch, when he approached me. He
had tasked himself to the utmost, to assume the nonchalance
and tooth-pick insolence of a hero, who visits a
subdued and imprisoned enemy. The moment he saw
my look of high defiance, his insolence forsook him
about love and promises, and the consent of my
father, and my recreant and degrading taste for the vile
traitor, the Yankee adventurer. I heard him calmly to
the end, and then I opened upon him. Our language
iś rich in terms of belittlement, hatred, and contempt;
and I was fluent in the use of them. I told him that
if he had possessed at the first, a single rudiment of any
thing that was noble in man, his birth, fortune, and
equality of condition, together with the wishes of my
parents, would, undoubtedly, have gained my consent to
a union with him, before I had ever seen any thing better.
But, that the moment he persevered in his suit,
propped by his interest with my parents, after he was
assured he never could have mine, he became to me, not
simply an object of dislike, but of loathing; for that a
man who would in any way impose himself on a woman
as a husband, after he knew she disliked and wished to
avoid him, must be a tyrant and a coward, unworthy of
a generous thought. I admitted that I did indeed love
the American adventurer, as he had called him, with my
whole heart, and I had thought, since I had known him,
that my aversion to his Excellency had indeed increased
by contrasting characters so very opposite. I hinted
at his having fished him from the water. Not to be
outdone in this strain, he reminded me, that much as
that adventurer wanted birth and condition, he had invited
him to decide their mutual pretensions in single combat,
which he had declined. I replied by reminding him
that the opportunity, so sought, did afterwards occur;
“and I remember,” I continued, “that there were two accounts
of that affair, the one by him, and the other by
yourself, and they materially differed; I presume you
him beyond all forbearance. He reddened with rage,
turned on his heel, traversed the room twice or thrice
with rapid strides, and then placing himself full before
me, and summoning all his coolness, he said, “Madam,
I see it is useless to contend with you in the war of
words. I shall not condescend to any farther discussion.
You are mine, because I have power, and love
you. You are mine, because I entertain a deadly
hatred towards the man you love. In the double game,
which you have played between him and me, you are
mine by implied engagement. You are mine by your
father's consent, and even assistance, as you discover.
All these indignant airs only give my pretty caged bird
a more engaging appearance to me. Make yourself
comfortable and at home here. You are mistress of the
palace and of its master. To-morrow perhaps,or the next
day, or at my convenience and leisure, you will accompany
me to a hacienda in the mountains. Father Josephus
and your father's servant will be in waiting, and
your dueña on your part, to witness to earth and Heaven,
that you are my lawful wedded wife. You will hardly
attempt to show any more of these airs, when you
discover that they only render you more piquant, and to
my taste.” He could not however resist the cool smile
of contempt that I gave him, and grinding his teeth, and
half drawing his sword, he uttered a horrid curse, that I
should then be his, alive or dead.
His countenance while he uttered these words was
horrible, and I felt a sinking faintness at heart which I
disguised by turning away from him apparently in contempt.
I only added, “You may, perhaps, carry me
there, and my poor father may have abetted this horrid
Providence which has so mercifully interposed for me before,
will not forsake me now in this my hour of extreme
need. When it comes to the worst I can only die, and
the thought that I was your wife would blast me as surely
as a thunder-stroke. You have taught me, what I
thought was impossible, to abhor you more than ever.
I hope that, until this dreadful hour of removal, I am at
least to have the relief of being left alone to think on
him who has so often delivered us both, and who little
thought, when he last spared you in battle, that he spared
a viper to sting him, and all that was dear to him, to
death.” He replied, that if it would comfort me, to have
one more solitary night for such pleasing remembrances,
he had promised my father that, up to the time
when he should have the claims of a husband, I should
be left to myself. Saying this, he withdrew.
The remainder of the day and the ensuing night passed,
as before, except that the lady, of whom I spoke,
showed herself only at supper. Early the next morning
I made my way into the street, and attempted to get
out of the town and escape. At first, I was exposed to
the insults of the soldiery, of which the town was full.
But it was soon discovered who I was. The commander
was sent for, and he met me in the street, half a mile
from his residence. I was wearied, and frightened, and
subdued, and I wept like a child. I fell on my knees
before him in the street, and in presence of his brutal
soldiers, and implored him by his mother, his sisters, and
the blessed Virgin, to let me travel on foot and alone to
Vera Cruz. “You need not go there,” said he, “to
see the adventurer. He is expected here every hour at
the head of the rebel troops to besiege me, and my
shall have for passing the dull days of the siege!” It
was in vain that I wept and implored the officers, soldiers,
and passengers. The soldiers were ordered to
take me by force and carry me home; and I was conveyed
there as if I had been a corse.
The dreadful hour was approaching; and I was but
too well apprized of the lengths, to which he was prepared
to go. I had reserved a knife which I used for preparing
pens and pairing my nails, for an emergency. I
had always believed him the kind of person that men
call a coward, and I had determined when we should be
alone to operate upon his fears, by a show of assault.
I dared hardly think of using it for another purpose, for
I had religious scruples in regard to suicide. I searched,
and found that it was gone. He was now with me
alone, assuring me that he should not leave me again
until the coach came to convey us to the hacienda. I had
read of fictitious personages in such cases acting in
heroics. For me, I felt that I was but a feeble, trembling
woman. I again fell on my knees before him. I
folded my hands in the attitude of the most earnest supplication.
I said, “Forgive me, Don Pedro. I will use
words of harshness to you no more. I will strive to
love you, and obey you, and become whatever you
wish. I cannot pass at once from hatred to love. Allow
me but four days, and at the end of that time”—and
I hesitated. “And what at the end of four days,” asked
he. “At the end of four days,” I answered, “I will
either consent to marry you, or die. Grant me this, I
beseech you, by the many days which we have spent together
when I did not hate you, when I believed that I
one day might love you.” “That, madam,” said he,
I see your only object is to gain time, until the Yankee
can come to your relief. `The present time,' the proverb
says, `is the only time.' I must avail myself of it.”
While this was passing, the carriage, that was to convey
us away, drove to the door. The hateful woman appeared
to accompany me. I remember nothing farther,
except a certain swimming in my head, and that the
room and every object was inverted, and whirled round.
I did not awake to consciousness, until after midnight.
The faithful dueña was weeping by my side. A physician
and a priest were in the apartment. Don Pedro
came to my bedside, and they came with him. I felt
tranquil, but so extremely weak, as hardly to be able to
articulate. I heard the physician inform him, that in
my present situation, the least motion or alarm would
be fatal to me. I felt my strength and my powers returning
with my consciousness, and was sensible that my
faintness had been that of extreme terror. But I carefully
imitated, as well, and as closely as I could, the
symptoms which had been so recently real. I had the
inexpressible satisfaction to find that the physician was
deceived by this counterfeiting, and advised him to
leave me to repose, of which I feebly expressed my
need. Two servants were left with candles in the remote
part of the room, and the faithful dueña sat
by my side. You may be sure I had no thoughts of repose.
Not many minutes after the wretch left me, I saw
through the blinds the flash, and instantly afterwards
heard the report of a cannon, and a continued and terrific
shouting of voices. Shortly after a person came
into the room and uttered something in a whisper. The
attendant women cried out “Jesu Maria!” and began to
North American general besieges us. Oh! the horrid
creature! He spares neither aged nor infants, lay women,
nor professed;” and they crossed themselves and
comforted themselves with a prayer, that the general
might beat them off. How tumultuously my bosom
throbbed! The cannon pealed again and again,
and every discharge seemed in my ear the noble
voice of my deliverer announcing to me, that relief was
at hand.
In continuation.
My tormentor came and went, and deep anxiety sat
upon his countenance. I made it a point to lie perfectly
still in bed, and my entire abstinence from all refreshment
for some time, had given me the paleness and languor
of real disease. The second day of my confinement
in this way, I heard a louder and more continued
cannonade, the crash of small arms in the intervals, and
then the infuriated shouts of the assailants, and sometimes
the shrieks of the besieged. The attendants came
into the room on tip-toe and in a whisper, but their
countenances evinced, that their terrors were real, not
the offspring of idle speculation. I made the best interpretation
I could, of the broken exclamations and
whispers, and I inferred that Don Pedro had made a sortie
from the town; that it had been routed and driven
back, and that there was hourly danger, that the town
would be taken.
I feigned sleep, and the anxiety and terror of my attendants
were so great, that they left me alone with the
dueña. My pocket-book had not been taken from me.
In it was paper and a pencil. I traced on a slip of paper
these words: “I am here under the control of
death....”
I gave this scrawl to the duena. I was aware of her
extreme simplicity, and I gave every caution to enable
her to convey it safely to Mr. Berrian. I furnished her
with money, and told her that my life depended upon
that billet's finding its way to him. She promised her
best, and retired; and after a sufficient time, came back
with a satisfied countenance, informing that she had hired
an Indian with five doubloons, who had promised, on
the sign of the cross, to have it conveyed to the Patriot
general.
At night Don Pedro returned, and I discovered by his
countenance, in extreme anger. The duena had learned
that the garrison had been severely beaten, and that
it was the general impression, that the town could hold
out but a few days. I might have attributed his anger
to this source, but he soon undeceived me. “So,”
said he, “all this sinking faintness is a mere ruse de
guerre. I am astonished, that such a beautiful and innocent
face can conceal so much intrigue and deception.
See, traitress, that there are others as wise as yourself.
That infernal rebel may learn that you are here, and be
urged to save you from an event so much more terrible
than death. But the information, you discover, has to
pass through my hands, and I must immediately possess
the rights of a husband, to enable me rightly to dispose
of your billet. There is some probability, that the rebel
may render it expedient for us to evacuate the town,
and retreat to a place more central to our resources.
But we must be wedded before we leave this place.
You will prepare yourself in a couple of hours for a visit
from the father confessor. He has resided long, in that
great privilege, to have him solemnize the marriage. It
is a fortunate contingency that he arrived yesterday with
despatches from the emperor, and has consented to perform
this service for us. I recommend to you the same
wisdom which you showed in your journey hither. You
will have to submit, and I could wish it were cheerfully,
to the unavoidable necessity of your condition. Trick,
feint, deception will neither create surprise, inspire pity,
nor obtain delay. The thing may be worse than death
now; but, as one of your cursed English poets has said,
you will first `loathe, endure, and then embrace.”'
Saying this he put the billet, which I had sent Mr. Berrian,
before me, and retired.
My resolution was formed the moment he was gone.
I threw my arms round the neck of my only friend and
adviser, the simple and faithful duena, and was relieved
by a burst of tears. My heart would else have
broken. The long and tried affection of this kind servant
manifested itself in earnest prayers for me to the
blessed Virgin, and she made a vow, which she never
made, except in extreme trials, and which, she assured
me, had never failed but in one instance, to obtain an
answer. She assisted me to throw on my dress. I
arose and summoned to my aid the whole energy of my
nature, resolving to keep myself as cool, and my eye as
steady as possible, to seize the proper moment and
course of action. One thing was determined, that Don
Pedro should never be able to call me his wife. The
duena's vow seemed to be answered, for I felt nerved
to any point of daring. Nevertheless, when I heard the
ascending footsteps of the expected party, my heart began
to palpitate, my respiration became laborious,
was again unconscious for some time. The terror of the
parties when I began to recover, evinced that they were
aware there had been no deception in this fainting.
There were in the apartment the woman whom I first
saw on entering the house, some other women dressed in
tawdry finery, that might be servants, my father's head
servant, the father Josephus, and Don Pedro. The
duena hung over me sobbing and holding volatile salts,for
me to smell, and rubbing my temples with the same.
Don Pedro approached me and essayed to take my
hand. The touch instantly thrilled through my frame,
and restored to me all my native energy. I arose, put by
his hand, and passed him towards the father. “Father,”
said I, “I have not thought well of you for a long
time. You have now a chance to redeem my good
opinion, and for ever ensure my gratitude. You have
seen how suddenly things change here. To serve me
now, may be one day of service to you. What is this
horrible farce that you are about to enact? You, a
minister of the altar, and abet this horrible business?
Marriage is a sacrament. There is no union unless both
parties consent. Could you conjure a fiend here from
his infernal abode, I would wed him as soon as that
man. I might at least respect the intellectual powers of
the horrible being. Think you, that Heaven will permit
such horrible sacrilege as you appear to meditate, to
pass unpunished? Why kill the child of your benefactor,
that never did you harm? You cannot doubt, after
what you have seen, that such an union would kill me at
once. I conjure you by your mother, your sister, the
blessed Virgin, Jesus who hung on the tree, by the God
of whose mysteries you were the minister, let alone this
your high authority as the minister of God to
reprove and disappoint this wretch.”
I pronounced these words in the tone of the most impassioned
supplication, and held fast to his pontifical
robe. He turned deadly pale, and evidently faltered in
his purpose. The greater spirit was evidently subservient
to the less, for Don Pedro, in a tone of authority,
informed him that all was ready; and bade him proceed
in the ceremony. He reminded him of his given word,
the consent of my father, and intimated surprise, that so
wise a man could hesitate in so just a resolution from the
tragic rant of a girl, whose head had been turned, and
whose heart had been polluted and rendered disobedient,
by heresy. This was touching the key,note, and
instantly restored to him his inflexibility of purpose.
He began in that deep and awful tone of voice, in which I
had so often heard him celebrate the mysteries of our religion
in my father's house. His eye was cast up to heaven,
and his words seemed to come from the bottom of his
breast. “Yea,” said he, “it is a sacrament, and one
that has been too long deferred. I plead guilty before
God and the saints, that when in former time I have
been urged by your father to this same course, I have
yielded to the motions of a weak and sinful compassion.
Hæc mea culpa. It is easy to see how deep and fatally
that arch heretic has exerted his influence upon you.
In solemnizing this marriage, I unite you to your equal in
birth and fortune, a husband, destined for you from
your earliest years,and with whom you played as such in
the innocent days of your childhood. I unite you to a
true and faithful son of the church, the first subject of
your emperor, a man, who has a right to award the honor
your temporal happiness against your own perverted
heart and judgment. I secure your temporal happiness
and honor, and more than all, it is to purify your soul
from the taint of heresy, and to secure your eternal salvation,
that I commence these holy mysteries.” Saying
this, he began the usual services of the church, commanding
me the while, in the name of God and the
church, to take Don Pedro by the right hand. I indignantly
pushed aside the offered hand, and continued in a
tone of remonstrance, and in a voice so frantic and loud,
that it prevailed over the deep voice of the father's services.
These opposing efforts were making at the same
moment, and I could hardly make out that he had proceeded
to that point of the ceremony, where our mutual
responses would have been necessary to its proper validity,
when I sprang by a strong effort from the two
women who, under the semblance of bride-maids, actually
held me in my position, and in struggling to open the
door and escape I fainted and fell to the floor. My agony
of head and heart was too intense, long to allow me
the repose of fainting, and I quickly recovered consciousness.
A burst of cannon and small arms was heard,
followed by shouts and shrieks, and all the wild outcry
of a captured city. Father Josephus fled in one direction,
and my infamous persecutor in another, and in the
next moment I was in the arms of Mr. Berrian! My
appearance was a sufficient comment on the duena's
narrative. I was pale as death, and my hair was disheveled.
He hung over me with the tenderness of a
mother, who watches the return of a child from a fainting
fit. His countenance had hardly relaxed from the
sternness of recent slaughter, and his clothes and sword
extremity in which he found me, and the tale of my
sufferings melted the young warrior to tears, which I for
my part could have kissed away as they formed in his
eye. “Dearest Martha,” said he, “let me wash away
these stains. You see I am polluted with blood. But
it was no time for scruples and feminine terrors.” I
clung to him as if the horrors, from which I had
just escaped, were still impending. Officers were every
moment calling upon him for orders, and every thing
abroad was in the confusion of a city recently captured.
I saw that he wished to be abroad and with me, at the
same moment. “O! leave me not,” said I, “for you
cannot imagine the misery from which you have saved
me. Was ever deliverance so great and opportune?
The victim you have so often rescued from destruction
is now yours, and yours forever.”
While I was thus clinging to him, and weeping on his
bosom for joy, and the duena devouring his disengaged
hand with kisses, the shrieks and exclamations in our
vicinity gave a terrible evidence of the lawless outrages
of an infuriated soldiery in a captured city. He made
a great effort of self-conquest, placed a guard of his
countrymen about me, and tore himself from my grasp,
saying, that “delightful as it was, to spend these moments
of deliverance and joy with me, the highest of all
duties called him away from selfish enjoyment, and that
he must prevent the indiscriminate massacre of the citizens.
Dear Martha,” said he, “compose and assure
yourself. You have nothing to fear. I will restore order
and stay the fury of the soldiers, and then return
on the wings of love and impatience.” “Yes,” answered
I, in the foolish transports of the moment; “but
terror of distraction too long to forego the assurance of
your protection for a moment. Where you go, I will
go.” Another general burst of shrieks came upon our
ears. I looked in his face, and my own sense of duty
returned. I relinquished his arm. “Go,” said I, “restrain
those wretches. Be to others what you have
been to me. God forbid that I should turn the current
of your humanity and protection from other unfortunates.”
The moment he left me a shiver of terror ran through
my frame, as though the recent horrors, from which he
had delivered me, were about to press on me again. My
guard was commanded by a young American officer of
noble appearance, who did every thing to restore my
courage, assuring me that my persecutor was gone with
all his train, and that I was in no danger while his
strength and his good sword lasted. Notwithstanding
these assurances, the hour of his absence seemed to me
an age. In an hour he returned in a superb uniform.
All stains of blood had disappeared, and he had the
firm and tranquil port of command, and the eye and
manner of one, who had so lately guided the storm in
mercy, had restored tranquillity and confidence to
the trembling citizens, and had tied up the unbridled
fury of his soldiers. “Order and quiet,” said he,
“are now re-established, and the two coming hours, my
dear Martha, are wholly to you. The Imperialists have
left us in quiet possession of the city, and we shall remain
here for the present.” How little did I expect this
excess of joy! All that were present, except the duena
and Bryan, whose fresh Irish face sparkled with joy,
saw that we should prefer to be alone. I could not find
so keenly in the joy of my deliverance.
When all had retired but those before whom I felt no
restraint, after the thousand earnest and broken exclamations
natural to our case, after the numerous questions,
that received no answers, had passed, and we had
become sufficiently calm to listen to narrative, Mr. Berrian
informed me, that Bryan, who acted as a kind of aid,
and was always by his side during the siege, brought
him intelligence only this morning, how I was situated.
“We had determined on the assault of this place to-morrow,”
said he. “This information anticipated the fate
of the place one day. I gave instant orders for the assault.
It was a fierce and bloody struggle. But the
Imperialists fought without a commander, and of course
much of their effort was wasted, because directed to no
given object. I arrived here, it appears, at the fortunate
moment. For, though such a constrained and abominable
union ought never to have bound your duty or conscience
for a moment, I am perfectly sensible, that I have
delivered you from painful scruples, and I am most
happy in thinking, that Don Pedro has not the miserable
satisfaction of saying, that the forms of this outrage were
consummated.” He gave me various other details of
his short campaign, and taking my hand, which perhaps
I should have withdrawn, but did not, and looking timidly
in my face, he asked, “Dearest Martha, what now? I
am made a kind of fair-weather and Guerilla general.
The short-lived Imperial pageant is crumbling to ruins.
Don Pedro will fall with his master. I cannot but flatter
myself, that whatever order of things shall arise upon
these ruins, I shall have enough influence and consideration
to secure your father's estate from confiscation.
too well, to need any declarations more. I am perfectly
sensible of the inequality between us in many points.
But I feel as if I had claims. Should you be disposed
to try me farther, or refer me to new contingencies in a
country so distracted, I fear I should turn tyrant in my
turn. I am a general, dear Martha, at your service,
and just at this moment am in great authority. Are you
disposed for ever to renounce Don Pedro, and titles and
hereditary honors, and become the wife of a simple
citizen of the United States? If not, I give you sufficient
warning, that I shall carry you off by a dark lanthorn,
to a distant and haunted castle, or a den, or cavern, or
something of that sort, and compel you amidst the howling
of wolves, and by the terrors of a platoon of soldiers,
to say, `Yea, and Amen.”' “Indeed,general,” said I, doing
homage by a sufficient bow to his epaulets, “you
need not use compulsion with a willing subject. Provided
only, that the solemnity be consecrated with the
rites of my mother-church, and in presence of my dearest
mother, who has given her full and unqualified consent,
you can take the Dona Miguela Martha de Alvaro
for your true and wedded wife, whenever you choose.
To be the wife of the general,” here I bowed as in duty,
and a citizeness of the United States, fills all my present
desires. I mean not to infringe decorum or self-respect.
But to put the risk of being separated from my dear
deliverer, and falling once more into the base hands of
Don Pedro as much as possible out of the question, I
shall not, except by compulsion allow myself to be
separated from the escort of the general again, until he
shall deliver me over to the protection of my dear
mother.”
You may suppose that he said kind things back again,
and he did so; and it was a kind of contest, which should
say the most civil and affectionate things. He is one of
those men, who show to most advantage when contemplated
nearest at hand. It is true, he looked none
the worse for his epaulets, and for having fought like a
hero. I hope you will do me the justice to believe, that
though a woman, I am not precisely the person to admire
a mere pageant, or to allow my eyes to be caught
with a fine person, a sword, and lace. How simple, and
yet how dignified is this man in private! Even after
this unequivocal giving myself up to him,—remember the
situation in which I was placed,—the same man who had
just driven the legions of the enemy before him, and
who came to me fresh from the slaughter of an assaulted
city, took the hands of a simple girl who threw herself
into his arms, with trembling. I shall never love or respect
him less for intimate acquaintance. I have always
doubted the man-hating maxims of Rochefoucauld,
and I am convinced of the falsity of one of his opinions
most frequently quoted, which implies, that no one is
great to those who see him in private.
The duena is confirmed in her persuasion of the efficacy
of her vow, and I have promised her a husband,
as soon as a good one can be obtained, and she is happy.
Bryan talks Irish, and capers for pure joy, for I
have told him, that we, neither of us, are ever to leave his
master; and I have promised him, that he shall have a
shanty built to his own notion, either at Durango, or in
the States. For we have already agreed,after the event,
(this dear man blushes even now at the word marriage,
so we call it event, as the Romans through delicacy, softened
the term death, to the word decease,) after the
and half the year in mine. We are thus to migrate with
the autumnal birds and the swans. In the autumn we
fly to the south, and in the spring return to the north.
I am too happy to write to any being but you, and I
begin to credit the old saw, which asserts that happiness
makes us selfish. I left myself at the close of my last,
along with my general, at Xalapa. Instead of two
hours which he promised me, he staid until late at night.
Before he left me, he arranged the terms by a message,
on which I might stay at the Carmelite convent in that
city, as long as he occupied it with his troops. Protestant
and heretic as they held him, he has present power,
and, I fear me, that is the divinity most devoutly worshipped
here, as elsewhere. He promises the sisterhood
protection. He stations a guard without the walls, and
is to be admitted within them at any hour that he
chooses. They are to afford the shelter of their sanctuary
to me, until he carries me back in triumph to Mexico.
The convent is a sweet place, the exact retirement
for a mind and a heart like mine. It is in valley,
like a sweet isle sheltered in a sea of mountains. Here
are fine oaks, the sure indications of health. It has
orange groves, and the delicious fruits and flowers of
every clime. Amidst its bowers run a number of beautiful
and limpid brooks, chafing over pebbles. Hither I
was removed, escorted by the youthful general and a
select body of troops. At midnight he retired and left
me to the notes of the pealing organ, the midnight
prayers of the sisters, and to communion with my own
thoughts.
In the morning he informed me that volunteer Patriot
detachments were crowding to his standard, and that
three thousand have already joined him here. He tells
me, that he is impatient to see my mother, and that he intends
leaving a garrison, commanded by an officer upon
whom he can depend, in this city, and pursuing Don
Pedro to Mexico, whither he is retreating. I replied
that I was happy here, and begged him to allow my
heart a little repose, assuring him, that if he had the regard,
which he pretended for me, he would not leave a
place where I was so delightfully situated, and where he
could see me without molestation or suspicion. I reminded
him how different all this might be elsewhere.
“Not at all,” he replied. “They never shall take you
from me again, Martha. Besides, this is a cause in which
every consideration must yield to the requirements of
its interests. And I have a confident hope, when I
have seen your mother, that we shall find a place there,
that will content you as well as this.” I could not but
admire the patriotism and self-control that led him to
pursue his duty against his inclination. I have not a
doubt, that he prefers the conversation and society of
Martha, to all the pomp and circumstance of war and
glory. I told him to do as his sense of duty dictated,
for that I was too good a Patriot, to wish to have him
sacrifice the interests of the country for love, and that I
had enjoyed one day and night beyond the reach of
fortune.
He had this day to make a march with a select body
of troops to a village, which will require his absence, until
to-morrow morning. I shed childish tears at this information,
and held his arm, until he gently disengaged
himself. To excuse me, remember what I have
away, until his figure, the waving plumes of his cap, and
the troop were lost in the distance. Then I had need
of the consolations of religion, the quiet of the sanctuary,
the pealing organ, the fragrance of the burning incense,
the deep responses of the prayers, to turn my thoughts
from idolatry towards a better country. What a dreadful
thought, that we must be separated from those we
love, not by such absences, terrible as they are, which
leave us the confident hope of a return; but to be separated
by the grave, and have the impervious veil of eternity
interpose between us and them! Oh! to be separated
from him forever! The thought is chilling. I am
in thought, weaving the ties of a relation with the earth,
too tender. Why was the heart formed capable of such
intense attachments, and yet to moulder in the dust?
And then what say the rigid of my Mother Church about
the soul him, I so dearly love? They term him heretic.
Francis Berrian, my beloved, whose every thought is
noble, whose impulses are all mercy and kindness, and
whose heart is consecrated to purity and virtue, a heretic!
And the sly, cruel, selfish, intriguing father Josephus,
one of the faithful, and a minister of our mysteries!
Jacinta, I remember, that you were formerly more liberal
than myself, and that you used to say, that a good
heretic was better than a bad catholic. If he is a heretic,
I am in a fair way to become one too. Holy Virgin
defend him! Keep him from the dagger of the assassin,
and the sword of the enemy, and until he returns to
these walls, may no image of earth, but that of Martha,
mingle with his pure dreams.
He returned next day in safety to Xalapa. Don
Pedro was too far in advance of him, to be overtaken.
He immediately selected a garrison and appointed a
commander for this city. He has had news from Sant'
Anna, who has captured Queretaro. Having settled his
arrangements for leaving this city, he spent the greater
part of the day alone with me, in the charming gardens
and groves of the convent, and such a day! A
year of such days would be too much for a state of trial.
The next morning he started with his whole force,
except the garrison, for Mexico. It was a cheering, and
heart-stirring sight, the ceremonial of our leaving,
and I think, intended as a kind of fête for me. The troops
appeared to be in their gayest attire and in high spirits
They filed off in front of the convent gate. The piazza
of the convent was filled with all the gaiety and beauty
of the city. My general rode a spirited white charger,
and many an encomium did the ladies pass upon him
little knowing how my heart concurred in all their
praises. They all admitted he was the finest looking
man they had ever seen. This with ladies is no small
praise. As he came up in front and doffed his military
cap and waved his plumes, there was a corresponding
waving of handkerchiefs, and fair hands, and a general
shout of Viva la Republica, and Viva el Capitan Liberador.
He dismounted and came up to the gate, which
was thrown open for the occasion, kissed the hand of
the prioress and other religious sisters, and asked their
prayers for the success of his cause. The prioress presented
him with a consecrated handkerchief. which
received with a respectful address, and what surpris
person, nor his gallant and dignified bearing as an officer,
but that he bowed like a king, spoke the true Castilian,
and kissed the hand of the prioress, like a devout
catholic. I confess, that a little pride mixed with the
love in my heart, when he came to me in the presence
of such a concourse, and begged the honor of escorting
me to Mexico, and to my mother.
To this request, most gracefully and gallantly made, I
bowed like an awkward country girl,and could not find a
word of reply. My heart said, “Yea and Amen! To
Mexico and as much farther as you choose.” Ten of the
first officers and select troops formed double parallel
lines. He led me through them, his cap in hand; and
theirs were instantly doffed as he passed, and they drew
their swords in sign, as they explained it to me, of offering
me protection. The moment we were beyond the
gate, a beautiful horse, appearently matched to that of
the general, was brought me, and another for the dueña.
He gracefully assisted me into the saddle. The
moment I was seated, the cannons fired. There was
what they called a feu de joie. The bells struck, and
the colors were displayed on the towers in the city.
Peal after peal responded from the town. The drums
rolled. The piercing notes of the fife were heard.
The shouts were re-echoed from the hills. Then there
was a momentary interval of silence again. It was
broken by renewed peals of cannon, and the army, the
citizens, the surrounding multitude, and the spectators
on the towers and roofs of the city, rent the air with
Viva el Capitan Liberador. This was repeated a
number of times. Instantly all was still. The hats
were replaced. The general uttered the word “March!”
slow and plaintive national air, in a note, which seemed
in my ear a wail for the dead, exciting in me a thrill of
feeling a thousand times more deep, than all that had
preceded. Our horses moved off at a slow and
measured pace, apparently the result of concert, that
every rank might settle into its proper place. We were
all mounted, and the trampling of so many thousand
horses, produced a sound so grand, and so unlike all
that had preceded, that nothing else could convey
any similitude of it. How delightful was this journey!
How different from the sullen and desponding
train of thoughts in which I came here! Jacinta, you
came over the sea with the beloved of your heart, and
had that long and intimate sojourn with your husband,
too. But it seems to me, that I cannot be happier, than
I am. I would be content, at any rate, to compound
with destiny, and remain always as I am I can pretend
to convey no idea of his assiduity, tenderness, and gallantry.
Not a word, not a look, apparently not a
thought escapes him, but what unites the expression of
devoted affection with that of vestal purity. He seems
to regard me as a kind of hallowed and consecrated
thing. Indeed, the second night of our journey, as he
led me to my apartment, in a sweet and romantic cottage,
which opened into a pretty garden, as we inhaled
through the lattice the fragrance of the jessamine and
the multiflora rose, when he wished me the usual bon
soir, he drew a deep sigh, which said, as plainly as sigh
could say it, that the separation was painful, and that
he should have preferred to watch with me all
night.
Every hour and every day of this charming journey
me, as if the soldiers, the travellers, the earth, and skies,
did and looked their best, and were robed in their
gayest, to please me. I trembled even at this excess
of enjoyment, and I expressed my feelings to
my beloved. “This same deep capacity of the heart,”
said I, “for exquisite enjoyment, when the fountains
become troubled, will furnish a proportionate energy
for suffering.” “Let us hope,” he replied, “that these
hearts which can suffer and enjoy in such an exquisite
degree, will finally be rendered permanent in happiness
in a better country. Meanwhile, let us take the good
without any of these disquieting apprehensions. Sufficient
unto the day is its own evil.”
Jacinta, I recollect your remark, that what is said of
the history of nations, is equally true of the history of
the heart. The happiest periods are those, in which
there is least to say about them. Every moment of my
time until I arrived in view of the glorious valley of
Mexico, was a moment of tranquil and exquisite satisfaction.
My cavalier was always riding by me by day,
surrounded by his officers, bearing the port of command,
and each imitating his gallantry to me. By night even,
I well knew that he was watching near me. I heard
every hour his voice of music in reply to the sentinel,
echoing the words “All is well.”
The first view of this valley, which unites every thing
that is grand, or rich, or beautiful in nature and in art,
awoke me from my long trance of enjoyment. I remembered
that this great city, so difficult to approach,
and so hard to attack with any prospect of success, was
in possession of the emperor and his troops, commanded
by a wretch, whose hatred towards the chosen of my
than ever. My father, what would he say to the
present order of things? Of my mother I had no doubt.
But there was enough of doubt and uncertainty in the
prospect before me, to fill my mind with anxiety and
suspense. Mr. Berrian approached me. “Yonder,”
said he, “are the towers of Mexico. My heart swells
at the sight, for I have a presentiment, that I shall soon
call you mine, and that the Patriot flag shall soom wave
from their pinnacles. And then, dearest Martha—”
“And then,” said I, “my dear friend, you will be again
in danger. I will not advance a step, until you promise
me, that you will strive to avoid exposure, if not for
your own sake, at least for mine. You have already
won enough of glory.” He assured me, that for the
cause, for his own sake, and a thousand times more for
mine, he would be cautious and not expose himself to
unnecessary danger. “I have,” he said, “at this time,
motives to attach me to life, too powerful, and the only
fear is, that these selfish considerations will inspire me
with too much caution and fear of exposing myself; and
Martha surely would not wish that.”
Arrived at the city, Mr. Berrian joined his troops to
those of Sant' Anna and Eschaverri. There was in the united
army a party, and not a weak one, disposed to assign the
chief command to the American chief. He was so kind
as to consult me respecting the expedient course for him.
He told me at the same time, that such was the influence
of envy and national jealousy, that he thought he could
be more likely to the cause, and more likely to acquire
an influence that might be salutary to my father, in a
subordinate command. His views of course were mine.
There was an immediate canvass upon this point, and
as a candidate for the supreme command. There was
some question between Eschaverri and Sant' Anna. It
was peaceably settled, that the latter should have the
supreme command, and the two others coordinate authority.
When I saw them running to my beloved in every
difficulty, I thought with pride of the story of honest Sancho,
that settled the point of precedence at the Duke's
table. I saw that he who originated all the measures,
was the chief commander, whatever name he bore. In
the hour of perplexity and danger, the weak and inefficient
commander in chief, naturally yielded to him,
whose appointment was under the sign-manual of nature.
And Mr. Berrian without the envy or responsibility of
the chief command, really originated every measure, and
his counsels eventually prevailed upon every point in
question.
If I were a man, and wore a sword and epaulets, I
should now have a glorious chance for describing the
ceremonial of the junction of these three chiefs on the
plains of Mexico. It was a proud and glorious sight,
and every measure was taken with the most perfect
union of feeling. The artillery pealed. The drums
rolled. The banners waved. The troops displayed,
and the cries of Viva la Republica, arose to the sky.
Even the horses, that bore this pageant of war, caught
the pride and enthusiasm of the moment. There is
something thrilling and awful, as I have felt, in the acclamations
of the thousands of an army, when one impulse
of feeling animates the whole mass. I felt the
truth of the adage, “The voice of the people is the voice
of God!” I admit, that as a woman, my heart beat
highest on seeing my beloved moving so gracefully on
his proud steed amidst waving plumes, fluttering banners,
of war, heightened by the inspiring notes of a
full band.
In continuation.
“Jesu Maria! I have been an hour on my knees in
thanksgivings, and yet I have not returned adequate
thanks. All doubt is over. They have passed the
dreaded act of confiscation. What care I. I should be
as happy as mortal can be, had I henceforward to earn
my bread by daily toil. I have not the folly to attempt
to paint the scene that I have just witnessed. What a
scene! My father and mother have arrived in camp.
My father was no longer the proud noble, the governor,
the heir of a descent of thirty generations. It was a proscribed
father, stripped of all his honors, and of all his
immense possessions, his house converted into quarters
for soldiers, and himself and my mother obliged to fly
for their lives without a servant. It was so much the
more bitter, that all this cruelty was inflicted by one,
for whom my father would have sacrificed me and every
thing. The order of nature was reversed, and instead
of allowing me to fall on my knees, as I would, to
supplicate his pardon for my disobedience, he would
have humbled himself before me, and begged forgiveness
of me with the subdued humiliation of one, whose pride
and whose heart had both been broken. “God,” said
he, “has punished me just in the point where I had offended.
He has made the Moloch, to whom I would
have offered up my dear and only daughter, the instrument
of my correction. Old, infirm, a beggar, I would
demand pardon of Mr. Berrian on my knees.” I threw
myself into his aged arms, and wept on his bosom.
“My dear and venerated father,” cried I, “do I not
you have done? I never doubted for a moment that all
was done for love, and all is forgiven and forgotten. I
can now show you the extent of my love and duty. I
will make you feel and acknowledge, that wealth is not
necessary to happiness. What do I say? He will
overthrow their acts of iniquity, and restore you to your
wealth and honours.” “That cannot be, dear daughter,”
he mournfully replied. “I have committed myself with
all parties; and whichever of them ultimately prevails,
the insolence of success, and the rancor of triumphant
party, will effectually bar me from my possessions. I
shall never dare to look Mr. Berrian in the face.” My
mother embraced me in her turn, and in our tears there
was no bitterness; for we had always had but one
mind upon these subjects.
As soon as we had gained calmness enough to enter
into these details, my father said, “Don Pedro and
the father confessor returning in disgrace and chagrin
to the city, related their reverses to the Emperor,
but never came near me. He redoubled his follies
and cruelties, and his blind confidence in them.
Don Pedro avenging my misjudging partiality for him
on myself, and daspairing of ever gaining possession of
you, my daughter, to repay me for that guilty devotion
to him, which had gone such lengths to gratify his
wishes, procured an immediate decree of confiscation
against me, which was no sooner passed, than put in execution.
I had scarcely sufficient notice given me to allow
me time to fly, and I was proscribed as a traitor. A
despatch of confiscation was sent to Durango. Your mother
fled with me, and we have remained concealed
among the adherents of our house. As soon as we
of our enemies.”
I might have observed that on my arrival here, I was
placed with the wife of one of the chiefs in a beautiful
tent, and in this I received my father and mother;
who here embraced the dueña, the only one of their
numerous establishment, that now remained to them.
I left them with her, and went for my general, who was
engaged in another part of the camp in reading overtures
from the Emperor. Bryan, who was prodigal of
the most respectful kindness to them, kept guard before
the tent, until my return. I sent in a message to
the general. He came out. I put my arm within
his, and in leading him to my quarters, prepared him
for the scene that was to follow. He was himself in this
scene, as in every other. He soon put my father at his
ease by a deportment just such as I could have wished
from him. His manner showed that he had estimated
my mother differently from my father, but that he now
saw nothing in him but the fallen noble, and the father
of Martha. He begged him to believe that the future
should evidence an entire oblivion of the past. He
pressed the offered cheek of my mother with his lips,
and she received his embrace as that of a child. “You
have always been to me as a son,” said she, “ and if
you still wish it, you shall now be really so.” To this
my father added, “that matters were now so entirely
reversed, that Mr. Berrian could hardly be expected
now to desire an union with a poor unfortunate girl, who
had nothing to bring him but herself, and her helpless
parents.” “That,” said he, “is all I ever sought.
Present the next woman on the earth with one of the
Indies in each hand for a dower, and your daughter
was handsome in him, was it not? “But why,” he continued,
“suppose she will be so? Not for my sake, or
hers, but for yours, and the comfort of your age, we
will have all these puppet arts of confiscation reversed.
We do not mean to sheathe the sword of patriotism and
justice, until you are reinstated in every tittle of your
possessions and honours, which have been so unjustly
wrested from you. I yielded to the exigencies of the
cause in every thing else, but for this, my heart tells
me that I ought to stand; and were there but my single
sword, I would not sheathe it, until that was obtained!”
My father embraced him with tears in his eyes, and
answered with something of his former spirit; “Why
have cruel circumstances ever estranged me from this
noble young man, whose title is worth a thousand times
all those that are written on parchment, and taken from
the office of the herald? I recognise, in all this, the
same man who has returned contumely by saving us,
who has been hitherto the prop of my family! Success
is in your eye, and follows your steps! I am cheered
with the hope that you will yet restore all! Forgive
the ingratitude of a doting old man, and take, if you desire
it, all that I have now to give, my daughter!” We
both fell on our knees before him. He joined our
hands. “I see,” said he, “that you love each other.
I know that he is the soul of honor, and will be kind to
you when I am gone. I give up ambition, and only
hope to spend my old days peacefully with you, and to
expire in your arms. The angel of the convenant bless
you!” Our mother likewise took our united hands, and
the tears trickled down her dear and venerable face,
as, in a voice scarcely articulate from excess of emotion,
our heads.
How often have I said and thought, that my happiness
could receive no addition, since I had been rescued
from the hands of Don Pedro. But, when I saw Mr.
Berrian my acknowledged and betrothed future husband
in my tent, my mother casting on him looks of affection,
and undoubting confidence, and my father, with changed
and better estimate, looking to him as the future prop
of the family, and I pondering in my heart the kind
words, “that he would prefer me to the fairest with India
in either hand,” I felt that I could be happier than I had
ever yet been.
In the course of the conversation, it somehow came in
discussion, when I should really become the wife of the
Yankee general, and my father said the sooner the more
agreeable to him, and my mother consented in the same
way; and they looked to me to fix the time, and I said
from the Bible, that the general had fairly and twice
won me, such prize as I was, with his sword and his
bow, and that I might as well allow him the right of war
and conquest, as not. Then we all looked to him to appoint
the day. And what do you think the cruel man
said? Why, “ that he was probably the most impatient
of the three for the time, but that he was not now for the
first time, to learn how to control his wishes; and that
he had made a kind of vow or mental reservation, that
he would not ask so great an honor, until he could
render himself in some measure worthy of it, by procuring
a reversal of the decree of confiscation, and a restoration
of my father to his home and his honors. My
father and mother exchanged looks, as much as to say
“Such is our son-in-law!” I had a feeling on the subject
was obliged to admit even, that there was an honest
pride after what he knew had formerly been said on the
subject, in deferring to connect himself with the family,
until he had won the honor, by conferring benefits.
Besides I had told him that I neither expected, nor wished
to be happier than I had been. There was one comfort
too, in the new order of things. My father and mother
were in perfect accordance with me, and agreed
that the name of Don Pedro, was as hateful to them as it
was to me. Moreover, there was no need of much of
the reserve of our former intercourse. We could see
each other without witnesses. He could spend every
moment with me, except those of sleep and occupation
with his duties. In fact, he lives almost in my tent.
He spends the greater part of the day with me, and in
the night he is constantly present in my dreams.
In continuation.
Some in my case, and feeling as I do, would odiously
affect indifference and tranquillity and all that. But I
confess I am impatient with the tedious progress of these
miserable negotiations. The cities and the provinces
are all leaving the standard of the Emperor, and my
father's countenance brightens daily, for he too, has become
a Patriot; and it is quite amusing to hear one of
the most ancient grandees of the Spanish monarchy,
talking about liberty and the rights of man, as if a thing
of very recent discovery. The Emperor has made the
Patriot general proposals, and the papers are all brought
to my future husband. I tremble even now, as I read
the hated name of the minister of war, signed at the bottom.
How everlastingly tedious are these miserable
volume. I have the satisfaction, however, to perceive
that the good man is as impatient and as much vexed at
this delay, as I am. He says nothing about it, and sturdily
continues the air of self-control and the affectation
of philosophy. But I see by his manner that he will be
glad when all this business is settled. I am glad that it
vexes him. We love to see that others have no more
philosophy than ourselves. Why should I complain
we constantly pass the day together, and we chat like
old acquaintances. Instead of fighting the enemy with
guns and swords, we fight with proclamations and long
speeches. It is a hard thing to keep these stupid gen
erals from quarrelling among themselves. My general
is constantly throwing water on their fire. Sant' Ann
confessed to my father to-day, that but for the North
American general, they would all fall together by the
ears, and the cause would fail.
In continuation.
Blessed be the Holy Virgin! Mexico is ours. I am
under my father's roof. The confiscation is reversed.
Mr. Berrian this morning brought my father a decree
of the National Cortes, assembled in Congress, which reverses
all the late decrees of Iturbide, and restores my
father to all his fortunes, to his recent command at durango,
and to the presidency of that honorable body
He, Victoria, and the Conde de Serra may now be considered
as at the head of affairs. Laura wishes me joy
with the best possible grace; but I clearly see a little
spice of envy. The day of days is fixed. My father
throws me gold by handfuls, and my poor head swims
with joy. When it was again put to me to name the
day, I almost found it in my heart to be revenged upon
named the day. But no. I respect the motive of his
forbearance, and I will play off none of these childish
airs.
I ought to go back and inform you in a word, how
these great events came about. Day before yesterday,
Iturbide sent out to the chiefs a full abdication of his assumed
power, and immediately retired to his country-house.
Don Pedro and the father confessor wished to
fly with him. But some of the adherents of our house
collected a band of my father's friends and servants, and
had both the traitors arrested; and they are in the calabozo,
and their fate will probably depend on my father's
will. I have as little the inclination, as the necessary information
and powers, to go into a history of intrigues, and
parties, and divisions, and scramble for places, in pulling
down one order of things, and putting up another.
There are, no doubt, among the people some real Patriots.
But with the thousand scrambles, the only motive
for overturning and ejecting the present occupants of
place, is to fill the vacated places themselves. Immediately
upon the abdication, a junta formed a provisional
government, and convoked a National Cortes. They
are ready to wink at one great deficiency in Mr. Berrian,
his not being a catholic. They offered him a command
only subordinate to the commander in chief. But
equally in compliance with his own feelings and my
wishes, and those of his future father-in-law, he declined
it. He said that he had taken up arms not for himself,
but for the cause of man, and that having seen the nation
restored to the full possession of its liberties, and
not having the honor to be a native of the country, he
wished to tender his resignation.
I was in the gallery with a crowd of the citizens when
he made this speech of resignation to the junta. It was
delivered with that noble simplicity that characterizes
every thing he does. My father presided at this meeting.
A majority of the members were his partizans,
and this speech, of course, was received with the loudest
plaudits and vivas, every one extolling the rare example
of a victorious general, resigning his command to
the peaceful representatives of the people. A pension
for life and an extensive and beautiful estate in the valley
of Mexico were voted him, and he retired amidst the
acclamations and waving of handkerchiefs, from the
galleries. Laura was differently affected, and I mistake
if her eyes were not filled with tears. The day of days
is the day after to-morrow. We are all sick of revolutions,
war, and shedding of blood. As soon as I am his
wife, we are to start for my father's government, and for
the shade of those venerable trees, and the shelter of
that noble mansion which I love so much better than
any other place. As soon as the Spring opens, we journey
together to the United States, and he revisits the
place of his birth. I have studied no people or manners
but Spanish. He considers himself and me as citizens of
that country. No matter, to be sincere about it, even if
he were to visit the Hottentots; wherever he went, in
the language of the poet, “eternal Eden would bloom
around.” Independent, however, of that society which
would render me contented amidst the ice of Lapland;
I long to see and study that great, peaceful, and flourishing
country, which gave him birth.
In continuation.
Don Pedro and the father confessor were this day
brought from prison and placed before the junta. They
of Mr. Berrian, and attempted to cajole him with
eulogies upon his magnanimity. My father said that
the junta, in disposing of them, would be guided simply
by his wishes. He instantly expressed a wish that they
might be liberated, on the express condition that he
might never see them again. They were set at large.
Unhappy men! Retributive justice overtook them.
This capital is in a state of the most terrible anarchy.
Fifty thousand of the miserable populace have, in too
many instances, taken justice into their own hands.
Sometimes, it is true, they let fall the thunderbolt of their
wrath on the right heads; and sometimes they exercise
the indiscriminate destruction of wild beasts. These
bad men had, in some way, become peculiarly obnoxious
to the populace, and as they were liberated at the gate
of the palace where the junta were in session, some factionist
gave the signal of marking them out for the fury
of the populace. They were literally torn in pieces. I
tremble even yet, and I pity them, much as they deserved
their fate.
This evening is to see me no longer Doña de Alvaro.
My hand trembles, and if the characters which I trace
are a little flurried, I hope you will pardon me, for you
have passed through the same ordeal. Let me tell you
something about these important arrangements. I well
remember and can produce your account of this same
business to me in three whole sheets. I will have more
conscience with you. First then, the Bishop of Mexico
is to solemnize the wedding. He is a venerable man,
dignified and unblameable in the discharge of his holy
of all parties. He could never be prevailed on to take
any part in the usurpation of the Emperor. He has always
been a friend of my father's, and is known to incline
in his feelings towards the Patriots. Secondly, we
are to be publicly married in the church of `Nuestra
Senora de Guadaloupe,' my patroness, and Laura is to
be bridemaid. Poor little thing, her bosom beats almost
as mine! The day, too, is my birth-day! What a singular
coincidence! Thirdly, my father being president
of the provincial junta, there is to be a general illumination.
Fourthly, immediately after my return to my father's
house, Bryan is to be married to a pretty Irish
girl, whom he has found here in the city. Lastly, the
first and last wish of my duena's heart is to be gratified
in her being immediately after married to Matteo
Tonato, the stoutest man in my father's establishment,
and the bridegroom and the bride have charged
themselves with the expense of a shanty for the one
and a casa for the other. The whole is to conclude
with a splendid tertulia and fandango. I shall wish
all this matter in the Red sea.
I had almost forgotten the most important article yet,
my dress. The good man has been a little prying in
this article, and I have answered, “You shall see, sir
all in good time, and I shall not look ugly neither.” To
tell you the truth, he is not fond of jewels, or I would
blaze like the meridian sun. I have had a hundred and
fifty counsels upon this subject. My mother advised
gorgeous, flowered, and stiff silks, and Laura would have
me flash his eyes to blindness with diamonds. I will
smite him deeper than that. It is a plain, rich muslim
dress from the United States, and made by an accomplished
The compliment will be so much the more delicate,
as he supposes that I am to appear in a rich Spanish
costume studded with jewels. He wears his uniform
as a Patriot general. I have been looking in my
glass and trying to moderate the exultation and joy in
my countenance, to the shrinking timidity in which all
the romances tell us, the young bride goes to the altar.
Of one thing I am certain. No damsel in romance ever
suffered more from palpitation, be it terror, be it joy.
The very dressing maid perceived it. “Jesu Maria,”
said she, “how your heart beats! Are you frightened?
I should not be in the least.”
In continuation.
It is all over. I will give you the details in their order.
Just as the sun was setting, my mother and Laura,
and two other distinguished young ladies of the city,
were assisted by the bridegroom into the state coach.
Thirty coaches of invited guests followed. The whole
was escorted by a select body of troops, lately under
the command of my husband. At the head of the procession
was my father accompanied by the Conde de
Serra and the first officers of the Junta. Military
music, firing of cannon, and ringing of bells marked the
commencement of the procession. At the door of the
magnificent church we were received by the Bishop
and the priesthood of the city, all in their most solemn
robes of office. The church, was full to overflowing,
and adorned with evergreens, and covered quite to the
centre of its vaulted dome with that profusion of splendid
flowers in which our city abounds. We walked on
flowers up to the altar. The bridegroom conducted himself
ceremony was so imposing, and the duties assumed of a
character so formidable, that I felt myself trembling and
faint, and should have conducted myself foolishly but for
the sustaining manner and countenance of my husband.
Amidst clouds of incense, the pious minister, dressed in
robes of the purest white, performed the solemn services
of this Sacrament, and we both pronounced our vows in
a firm and decided voice, after the manner of those who
had meditated the duties of this relation, and resolved to
be faithful to them. The moment the vows were pronounced,
we were literally covered with flowers, and
saluted with vivas from every quarter of the church.
My mother and father embraced and kissed me; and
my husband, you know, had now acquired the right to do
so. Laura too, kissed me, and whispered me, when
returned from the States, to bring her just such a husband,
as mine. The Bishop led me back through the
aisle of the church, and gave me his benediction at the
door. The organ was pealing its grand symphonies, a
I was assisted into my carriage. The city, as we drove
back, was one dazzling mass of illumination. On all
sides was the gaiety of fête, and I much fear of drunk
enness.
Every tree in my father's garden was hung with variegated
lamps. A hogshead of vino mezcal was opened
for the Spanish populace, and a hogshead of agua ardiente
for the Irish, of whom there are multitudes in the
city; and Bryan, as my husband's favorite servant
was to have his way for this night; for he said, “it was
but raisonable for him to be free,” and to use his phrase
“dead out” for this night, if he was to be the slave of his
wife forever after. The parish priest solemnize
and the duena with her Herculean spouse. No people
that ever I have seen, enter into a festivity with such entire
abandonment of joyousness, that excludes all thought
of the past and the future, as the populace of this city.
There were hundreds of them dancing by the light of
the illumination among the trees on the green turf. The
evening concluded with a splendid ball, at which were
present all the beauty and fashion of the city. It was
arranged by my parents and the Conde de Serra, contrary
to all reason and rule, I am sure, and I believe
contrary to custom, that my husband should have the
first dance with Laura. My husband admits, that our
dances are infinitely more graceful than his; that ours is
the music of motion and expression, consisting rather in
beautiful movement, than in practised steps. I was tormented
with downright jealousy, for the little Circe seemed
to have condensed the sun-beams in her eyes, and her
movements were so graceful, buoyant, and joyous, that
the whole garden rung with acclamations; and as she
passed me in the dance, there was such roguish triumph
in her eyes, that I could almost have felt it in my heart
to put them out. The good man too, is one of those
who cannot move other than nobly and gracefully, and
when he passed me in the dance, I saw that he would
have chosen that I should have been the partner, and I
was satisfied. Before they retired, each one of the
company came up and wished me joy, and when Laura
left me, there was such a sweet and tender air of sincerity
in her congratulations, that I really felt it in my heart
to wish her as good a husband.
You know all about our customs on such occasions.
My father is scrupulously observant of all the Spanish
punctilio was observed on this occasion. The company
retired about midnight. Bryan was deputed on the part
of the Irish, to tender the civilities of the evening after
the Irish fashion. It is not necessary that I should relate
exactly all that he said. He was evidently a little
mellow, and this, of course, created some little reserve
on my part. His perfect tact enlightened him in a moment
into the cause of my reserve. The honest fellow
was affected to tears, partly, I suppose, of the bottle.
“God Almighty bless your Ladyship, and his Honor,”
said he, “and be sure, I should have been drunk with
the pure joy, if I had not tasted a drop of the mountain
dew. Don't you forgive me now, honies, for being a little
too glad?” We both joined to quiet him, and stop
the sources of his tears, and to wish him joy of his pretty
wife. The clouds not only passed, but he was immediately
in high glee again. “Now arn't you the
jewels?” said he, as he turned with a caper to go away
It is said, that Bryan was king of the wake for that
night, that he sung “gramachree and paddy whack,”
and all his popular and national songs, until the morning
dawned in the east. The pleasantest circumstance
yet to be recorded. The Gazette, in detailing the festivities
of the night, remarked that not a single accident
had occurred.
In continuation.
To my great relief after a night of so much fête and
gaiety, we were entirely en famille in the morning. I
dreaded to see company, and could have chosen to spend
the day alone with my husband. But immediately after
breakfast drove up the Conde's coach. A card was
drive with me. I sent her for word, that, unless she was
disposed to give a place to my husband, she must positively
excuse me. The message back was, that if he
chose to accompany me back, so much the better. He
consented to accompany me, and the drive was a pleasant
one, except that occasionally when my husband
looked another way, Laura gave me looks so wickedly
and impertinently inquisitive, that I was obliged to assume
matronly airs, look grave, and show her all the
difference in deportment, between a wife and a spinster.
But she is really a most forward child, and answered me
by looks of such merry defiance back again, that I see
nothing will cure her but to be able to put on the same
official dignity herself.
In the course of the drive she asked my husband if he
had ever visited the churches of the city? To which
he answered, that he had only seen the outside of them,
save one; “and that was certainly the most beautiful
church I ever saw,” and he gave me a look of gallant
kindness, which gave the remark a delightful application
to me. She coloured a little at the reply, and continued,
“that one, I must suppose, was the church of Our
Lady of Gaudaloupe. You would feel unplesantly to
confess, after you shall have left the city, that you had
not visited its churches, as they contain the chief display
of our city, both in architecture and painting. I will
have the pleasure of showing them to you.” But, as
there are nearly sixty important ones, besides a greater
number of inferior ones, I begged her not to satiate him
with too great a feast, but only to show him the finest of
them. Accordingly, we drove to the rich and noble
church of “La Incarnacion.” From that, we inspected
The church of San Domingo struck my husband very
much. I saw while he was viewing it, precisely the
same expression come over his countenance as I have
seen upon it, while he was looking upon San Puebla, and
the other sublime points of our scenery. I caught myself
the thrill of feeling,which I knew was passing through
his frame. The interior of this church is imposing, and
inspires awe. In the different churches there are some
handsome paintings; and to me it appears, although I
am an European, that by far the handsomest are the production
of native artists. There is certainly, as I have
seen among my father's tenants, a strong natural aptitude
to painting among the creoles of this country.
In the convent, attached to the church of La Professa
we were shown the series of paintings which represent
the heart of man as possessed of the devil, and the seven
deadly sins. There is the usual form given to the devil,
and the mortal sins are represented by various ugly animals.
In the first painting they have full possession,
and occupy the centre of the heart. In the second the
devil and the animals appear to be losing ground, and
are crowded a little towards one extremity of the heart.
In the same proportion as they retire, a dove is seen entering.
In the next painting the empire of the heart is
shared between the dove, the devil and his animals, and
so on, until they are completely expelled, and the dove
has entire possession. This painting is celebrated in
this city as a model of taste and ingenuity in the science
of symbols: I looked at my husband as the fascinating
little Laura was playing the connoisseur, and admiring
it prodigiously, and expecting a corresponding admiration
on his part. I saw a slight shrug, a well-remembered
disappointed at his silence and asked him again, why he
did not admire a painting that every body considered as
a chef-d'œuvre in its kind?” He gaily answered, that
the animated paintings before him were too beautiful
and attractive to leave him taste or feeling to admire
any thing else. “No,” she replied, “you do not put
me off with a compliment. I see, that you are not pleased
with this painting, that every body admires. I am
told that your taste is very exact and severe. For my
part, I love to be pleased, and I never stop to inquire
why?”
We had now finished the inspection of the churches,
and we went to sit in a pavilion in a garden, from which
was a most imposing view of the whole chain of mountains
in the distance. In one of the churches, which
we had visited, we had waited during a most imposing
celebration of high mass, in which the rites of our
church had appeared in all their grandeur and attraction.
“We are now seated,” said Laura, “in the cool
shade, and in view of San Puebla. There is here before
us one of the sublimest objects in nature, after we
have seen all that our city has to boast of art, consecrated
to the worship of the Divinity. I now wish to ask
your opinion. If I did not respect that opinion, I would
not ask it. You have been reared, and, I can discover,
religiously, as a protestant, or as we say, as a heretic.
You are married to the most amiable and lovely woman
in Mexico.—(Why could the little witch wish to flatter
me?)—You have seen all that is noble and imposing in
our worship and your union with this lady must dispose
you to think favorably of it. I am deemed in this country
a free-thinker myself. Which worship do you prefer,
that she should have asked him this question at this
time and place, and in such a way, that he could not
wave it. This was his answer. “I can hardly reply to
you, without making a speech, and I am too entirely happy
to punish you, or myself, by such an infliction. The
whole taken together, if I must be frank, I much prefer
my own. Could I have done it without a compromise
of either principle or conscience, my interest and inclination
would have led me to assume your profession.
I have felt the full force of a motive, a thousand times
more powerful in swaying the springs of action, a motive
of such influence, when I have seen Martha raising
her eyes and folding her hands with such an expression
of celestial ardor and purity in her prayers and observances.
I have painfully regretted, that we were not exactly
one in faith, as I trust we are indissoluble in affection.
It is my opinion that religion is the most solemn
of all realities, not at all dependent upon forms or shades
of opinion. I deem good people to be all of one
religion. I have seen enough of dispute about difference
of opinion, I have seen enough of pretension and reliance
upon form, to be thoroughly disgusted with both.
There is enough that is common to every form of Christian
faith and profession, to unite us in deeds of beneficence
and feelings of charity. I admire, as I said to the
unfortunate father Josephus, I admire most of the
prayers and many of the forms of your worship. I have
seen and have admired the fidelity, and the exact and
impartial observance with which the minor priests of
your church administer the rites of your worship to
slaves, the ignorant and miserable leperos, the very remnants
of humanity. I am well convinced, that the ignorant
faith but an implicit one. Were it not for a few points
to which the more strenuous of your priests hold with
such perseverance, I could be a conscientious Catholic.
I have no hesitation in stating my precise objections.
Some of the dogmas of your church are not only incredible
and impossible, but just as revolting to common feeling
and sense, as to assert that twice two are five; not only
above reason, but absolutely contrary to it. Your reading
on these points, I am aware, is so exact and extensive,
that you cannot but know the points to which I refer.
Neither, I admit, do my feelings go with the multitude
of bowings, genuflections, shiftings of dress, the
gaudiness and finery of the sacerdotal costume, in short
a great part of the parade and pageantry of your church.
Simplicity, according to my notion, enters into every
kind of greatness and sublimity. How simple are all
the grand operations of the Divinity! By means how
admirably simple, are brought about the changes in the
visible universe! Can the Being who reared yonder
piles, and kindled the eternal fires under their snows,
who hears the music of the spheres, inaudible by any
other being, and who melts the snows of half the world
by an influence so silent and unostentatious, as the gentle
actings of the sun—can that Being, whose object it
seems to be, to achieve the greatest results with the least
ostentation, can He be pleased with a pageant so shifting
and tinselled? I do not avail myself of the thoughts or
similitudes that offer themselves to me, and you will excuse
me for talking so plainly. I am aware how respectful
and sacred all your associations may be, even with
this parade of rites and costume. Our worship is simple
and intellectual, and, as I think, nearer to these gran d
phenomena of nature. But I have seen so much of profession
without reality in all forms, that I deem very little
of the externals of any religion. It is the substance
of the thing and the being in earnest, that I respect. Of
the place where Martha shall worship, I shall always
think, in the phrase of the Bible, `Put off the shoe from
thy foot, for the place where she standeth is holy
ground.' Far from loving her the less, for this difference
of opinion between us, the honor of our different
faiths, I trust, will operate upon us both, to strive to
evince which faith will inspire most tenderness, forbearance,
and fidelity. All the hope I entertain of converting
her, and all the arts I mean to try, will be founded on
the purpose to show her what a kind, correct, and undeviating
husband a protestant can be.” What say you,
Jacinta? If the respective excellence of our faiths be
put upon this criterion, I am fully aware that his will
vanquish mine, and that I shall end by becoming a heretic.
But no. I have even heard him speak doubtfully
of sudden changes in these great and vital matters. I am
sure, that if I affected compliance from any other
motive than deep conviction, he would at once detect
the hollowness of the motive, and respect me the
less. The Virgin preserve me from losing one tittle of
his respect.
I have received your kind letter and the beautiful
rosary accompanying it. I thank you a thousand times
for your kind wishes. I have no apprehension on the
score on which you warn me. I have no terrors of the
weather getting duller after honey moon, as you call it,
inspire an idolatry too blind, and that I shall only be
too much tempted to surrender my judgment and my reason
to the keeping of another. When I loved him at a
distance, I knew but the half of his deserts. You must
see the manner, and the motive, that he carries with him
to the sanctuary of our privacy; you must walk and
ride with him, as I do; you must catch his eye as we
scramble together up the mountains, or listen to his conversation
as we sail together on these sweet lakes; in
short you must find him, as I do most full, and rich, and
delightful in that “dear spot, our home,” to do full justice
to his character. Let the Stoics preach that this
life never does, or can yield any thing, but satiety and
disappointment. I know better on experience. I could
live happily on the treasured recollection of the few days
we have had together, for a whole year. If I ever hear
foolish girls affecting to be witty again, as I have so often
heard them before, in declaiming against the wedded
life—by the way, you and I know, with how much
sincerity they do it—I will say to them, “Foolish girls, this
talk is all stuff.” Be married to worthy men as soon as
possible. I have experienced more enjoyment in a day
since marriage, than in a year before. Indeed my
duena seems another sort of person, she is so happy; and
Bryan too, in his strange way, eulogizes matrimony,
and his red-cheeked and yellow-haired spouse blushes
her consent.
The only news of any importance, you have undoubted
heard, that the Ex-Emperor has sailed with his whole
family for Italy, or, as is more generally believed, for
England. We have made most of our arrangements,
and shall start in a few days for Durango. We all are
Fêtes, balls, tertulias, and visiting occupy too much of
our time. I want the shade of those venerable sycamores,
and catalpas. I know of no one that I shall very
much regret leaving, but the Conde's family, particularly
his daughter. Indeed, she talks of accompanying
us, and I am sure she would, if she could gain the consent
of her father. Some of the ladies here have made
efforts, quite conspicuous, to intrigue with my husband.
Pretty things indeed! If my husband were not invincibly
sober, I cannot but think, that, putting every thing
but appearance out of comparison, I should carry it
over these dizzened forms and swarthy faces.
| CHAPTER IV. Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot | |