Vagabond life in Mexico/The Hacienda of Arroyo Zarco
CHAPTER II.
The Hacienda of Arroyo Zarco. — The young Mexican Lady. — The young Spanish Nobleman. — Don Tomas Verdugo.
The hacienda of Arroyo Zarco is a vast and imposing building, built partly of brick and partly of large stones, situated almost at the entrance to the extensive and fertile plains of Bajio. The place, however, where this hacienda rises, is far from presenting the smiling appearance which characterizes the basin bearing its name. It stands on a flat, barren plain, where grow a few melancholy-looking stunted trees, one or two of which shade the back walls of the building: a little brook of bluish-looking water, the fountain-head of which is not far off, gives the name of Arroyo Zarco (blue rivulet) to the hacienda. A large square court, ornamented on its four sides with stone arches like the cloisters of a convent, forms a kind of vestibule to the apartments of the family. The rooms devoted to travelers are under these galleries. Stables, large enough to contain with ease a whole regiment of cavalry, make up two or three other courts. It was the only place at which I could put up within six leagues, and here I hoped to find the travelers I was in quest of, provided I had not taken the wrong road.
"We have come thirty-two leagues since yesterday," said Cecilio, taking my bridle, with a sigh, "and if your lordship persist in continuing the pursuit, perhaps it will only be prudent and advisable if I return to Mexico to dissipate the uneasiness that will probably arise there on your account."
"The duty of a good servant is to accompany his master every where," was my reply; and, going up to the stable-boy, I began to put some questions to him regarding the travelers who had arrived before us. From him I learned that about forty travelers had stopped at the hacienda in the afternoon, and, for want of better information, I was obliged to content myself by a personal inspection of the stables. I ought to have gone there at first without making any inquiries; and, as there was still some daylight, I directed my steps to the courts. A great number of horses were munching their provender in their stalls, and, from the joyful eagerness with which they ate, I could see that they had come a long distance; but I could hardly contain myself for joy when I distinguished side by side, like two faithful companions, the iron-gray and the peach-blossom. This was but the beginning of success; for, to complete the discovery, I must examine nearly sixty travelers, for there was almost that number of horses in the stables. This, to speak the truth, was almost impracticable dangerous, perhaps, in one respect, and ridiculous in another.
As I was going along the lobby which led to my room, where I intended to rest a short time previous to resuming the pursuit, a coach, drawn by eight mules, and escorted by three horsemen armed with muskets and sabres, came rattling into the court-yard. The arrival of a carriage at a Mexican inn is always an event of some importance; it bespeaks travelers of distinction, or, better still, the presence of females, whom, though they may not perhaps be young, the excitement of travel invests with a thousand illusory charms. While the three horsemen who formed the escort, and the two coachmen who conducted the team, were wrangling with the huesped, the court all the time filled with strange figures, one of the horsemen alighted and advanced respectfully to open the carriage door. A man of a certain age descended first, a younger person followed, and, before any one had time to offer her their hand, a young lady hurried out after them. She wore a costume adopted by several rich rancheras when traveling, an attire which suits equally well the carriage or the side-saddle. She carried in her hand a hat with a broad brim; and her manga, richly ornamented with silk velvet and gold lace, could not hide entirely her fine flexible figure, and bare, sunburned arms. Her uncovered head left exposed her beautiful black hair; and her eyes, as black, and not less brilliant, gazed around in the free bold style peculiar to Mexican women. She seemed evidently seeking for some one in the group that surrounded her; but when she saw the unknown faces which greeted her, she veiled them modestly under her eyelids.
Night came on, and the young lady had retired to one of the chambers of the hacienda when another traveler entered the court-yard. The new-comer was a young man, evidently about five or six-and-twenty, tall and well made. Though poorly clad, his dress was unstudiously elegant, and a fine black mustache heightened the dignity of his appearance. The predominant expression of his countenance was at once haughty and sad, but his face was remarkable at times for a singularly winning sweetness. A little mandolin hung round his neck, and at the pommel of his saddle dangled an old rusty rapier. The lean and somewhat scraggy horse he rode was followed by another ready saddled and bridled I could not help feeling a touch of pity for this poor young man with the melancholy face. The famine-stricken appearance of both horses and master showed but too well the hardships which they had endured in common—long journeys executed upon little or no food, and entire days passed probably without sustenance of any kind. Like the other travelers, the cavalier called the huesped; but, instead of addressing him in a loud voice, he stooped from his saddle and whispered in his ear. The huesped, in reply, shook his head; a cloud passed over the face of the unknown, he colored slightly, looked sorrowfully at the unharnessed carriage, twitched his bridle, and left the hacienda.
It was now time for me, however, to look after my own business. The joy of Cecilio, when he found that the two horses of our travelers were in the stables of the inn, was changed into despair when I communicated to him my orders. As I could not interrogate sixty travelers, I ordered him to saddle our horses at midnight, and station himself along with me in the court-yard near the gate. In this way not a single traveler could leave the place at any hour of the night without my knowledge. This point arranged, I left Cecilio plunged in melancholy reflection at the prospect of a night to be passed in the open air, and hastened to the kitchen, which, according to the custom of the country, served also for a dining-room.
In this vast hall, travelers of every kind traders, military men, arrieros, and servants, were seated round a number of tables placed near the fire. I sat down like the rest, and, during the whole time of my meal, kept my ears open to catch the conversation that was going on. I did not, however, pay much attention to it, as it consisted only of stories of robbers, storms, impassable torrents favorite topics of conversation with all travelers. Weary at last of listening to a series of questions and answers in which there was nothing interesting, I asked the landlady, in a loud voice, about the two horses, the colors of which I mentioned, that were then in the stable. I was more fortunate at first than I hoped. I learned that one of the individuals was the Señor Don Tomas Verdugo, who had arrived about an hour before me; but, being pressed for time, he only waited till he got a relay of horses, and then departed, leaving at the hacienda the two horses he had brought with him till his next arrival.
"Although it seems strange that you can have any business with him," added the landlady, "I know that he will stay two days at Celayo, and you will find him at the Meson de Guadalupe, where he is accustomed to put up."
I was very anxious to elicit some more information, but the wary hostess kept herself very reserved, and I quitted the kitchen very much disappointed to learn that I had still a forty leagues' ride before meeting my mysterious visitor, but delighted to find that I knew his name, and had a certain aim to pursue. After countermanding my order to Cecilio, as it was not late—and sleep is a long time in visiting a stony couch, especially when one is very much fatigued—I went and sat down at the outer gate of the hacienda, a few paces from the high road.
The country round lay as still and silent as if it had been midnight, and the moon shone brightly over head. In the horizon the hills began-to put on their nocturnal russet. Upon the whitened plain, the moisture from the earth, condensed by the coldness of the night, looked in the distance like a tranquil lake, and from among the vapor towered aloft some aloes which grow upon this rocky soil. In this mournful solitude, in an inhospitable country, where a thousand dangers surround the traveler, especially when he is a foreigner, my present enterprise appeared for the first time in its true light a perilous folly. For the first time, also, since my departure from Mexico, my heart failed me, and I was almost on the point of retracing my steps, when, as I was taking, as I fancied, a last look at the scene, I thought I heard, amid the stillness of the night, the distant sounds of a guitar. This came, probably, from a party of muleteers who had bivouacked at some distance, or some groom who was playing to his fellows in one of the inn stables. Without stirring, I listened to the strains broken by the distance, when gradually, out of the stillness, a vocal accompaniment stole along on the night air. Owing to the profound silence that prevailed, I easily made out the words of the song; it was a Spanish Romancero; but the musician, through some odd fancy, had accompanied it with a refrain, consisting of some by-words very much in use among the Mexican people. This singularity raised in me a desire to see the player. At a short distance from the hacienda, and at the foot of a low hill which overtopped it, I observed the flickering light of a fire. One side of the singer's face was brightly illuminated by the blaze, and near him, two horses, tied together by a long cord, were cropping the scanty grass which grew on that stony soil. I advanced quietly, so as not to interrupt the unknown; but the noise of my footsteps betrayed me, and the music stopped all at once. The stranger rose hurriedly; the graze of a sword which he was unsheathing struck my ear. The adventure was becoming less pleasant than I had anticipated. I stopped, then advanced again; and, by the light of the fire, I distinguished the young man whom I had seen in the court-yard of the inn, but whom I little expected to find again so near me.
"Who goes there?" he exclaimed in Spanish, and in a pure Castilian accent.
"A friend!" I cried; "but put up your rapier; I am alone and unarmed."
The moon lighted up the surrounding objects so clearly that the Spaniard was convinced that I had spoken the truth, and he returned it to its sheath.
"Pardon my indiscretion, Señor Cavalier," I said, advancing into the illuminated circle; "I have been drawn to you, I must say, only by a motive of curiosity. If I am not deceived, you are, like myself, a foreigner, and, as such, almost a friend."
In spite of my politeness, the stranger's features still kept an air of haughty defiance. He seated himself, however, and invited me, with a wave of his hand, to do the same. I did so without ceremony.
"I am a Spaniard, it is true," answered my new companion, haughtily; "but, throughout the whole of America, is not a Spaniard at home? It is now my turn to ask pardon of you for deeming you a spy sent by—"
The Spaniard stopped all at once.
"By whom?" I inquired.
"You are welcome," said the unknown, without replying. He accepted a cigar which I offered him, and we began to smoke with all the gravity which characterizes Indian warriors round a council fire. By the light of the moon, aided by that of the fire, I could easily see, what I had before noticed, that the hard privations which the Spaniard had endured had left in effaceable traces of mental suffering on his brow, but without altering in the least his noble physiognomy.
"Did you compose those verses yourself," I asked, "which I have so indiscreetly interrupted, and whose originality has struck me so much?"
"No; I only adapted them to an air of my own composition for an affair which it would be too tedious to relate to you."
There was evidently an attempt at concealment in this reply, which whetted my curiosity. I resolved to make a confidant of the young Spaniard by telling him the object of my journey, and the many checks I had experienced since my departure from Mexico.
"Our positions are not dissimilar," said the Spaniard, when I had done. "Like you, I am pursuing a nameless object; but thank God that you have been saved from the dangers that I have undergone."
"Tell me about them," I said. "I like a story told in the open air at night above all, and in the light of a fire like this."
"Be it so," said the Spaniard. "I shall begin by telling you that I am a Biscayan and a nobleman; not by election, like most of my compatriots, but descended from a long line of ancestors, who recognize Lope Chouria as the chief of their ancient clan. My name is Don Jaime de Villalobos. I bear another name here for common use. My mother has the first rank in my affection, then my father, and lastly my country. You now know me, Señor Cavalier. I am now about to tell you of the affair in which I am at present engaged."The slight air of superciliousness with which he began his story was not displeasing to me; it was like a continuation of the Romancero of which the young nobleman had been singing a verse a short time before. He continued with more simplicity.
"Unfortunately, I was born poor, though of noble blood. More than once during my infancy have I been awakened from sleep by the rude ice-wind which whistled without obstruction through the ruined manor-house in which my mother and I dwelt. As a compensation, God gave me a good appetite, which made me forget the cold. I shot up apace; my noble birth interdicted me from all manual labor and servile employment; and to leave my mother, who was now growing old, and take service in the army, was a step which was not in accordance with my inclination. However, I could not long remain a stranger to the civil war which was then raging in the Basque Provinces. Don Carlos, you are perhaps aware, often forgot, to pay his officers and soldiers, and all that I gamed in his service was the honor of being a creditor of his noble highness. Returning to my maternal abode, I was grieved to find it more dilapidated than ever, and to feel still more the anguish which rent my mother's heart, for I saw her sinking day after day under the double burden of old age and poverty. One evening a peddler came and demanded hospitality of us, and as he only asked for shelter, we granted it. His wandering life had enabled him to pick up all sorts of news, and I learned from him that one of our neighbors had made a wealthy marriage in New Spain.
"'What a capital thing it would be,' said he, 'if a young nobleman like you could be so lucky in that land of gold and silver, where the ambition of all the women is summed up in the couplet,
"'Canrisas de Britaña,[1]
Y maridos de España.'
In my present position a rich marriage was the only resource left me, and I resolved to go to the New World and seek my fortune. I communicated my hopes to my mother. The payment of a debt gave me the means of procuring a passage in a ship from Bilboa; and full of hopes of being able to bring back a fortune to my mother, which was my only ambition, I set sail. I arrived at Vera Cruz a year ago, and visited the churches assiduously, the only place where the fair inhabitants delight to show themselves, but not one deigned to give me the slightest countenance. At night in the deserted streets I watched long, but to no purpose, for none appeared. I knew well that if I did not announce my presence under a window, I ran a risk of spending my nights as fruitlessly as my days. I had then recourse to music, and purchased a mandolin. Unluckily, though a passable musician, I was not poet enough to compose a good serenading song, and was forced to tack on to an old Romancero a piece of a wretched ballad that I remembered—the miserable bit of doggerel which had incited me to quit the old manor-house. I was engaged in singing that when you interrupted me."
The Spaniard here began to smoke with the air of a man who is resolved to do his duty conscientiously.
"And you are not much older than a boy," said I, much surprised at the abrupt conclusion of Don Jaime's story."An old maid, a sort of duenna, who had worn linen of Brittany for many years, had no objection to me on that score. You understand my object in coming here was to get a young, rich, and beautiful wife. Had the duenna been rich, for my mother's sake I would have married her, but she was neither rich nor young, and had never been pretty."
"'Tis a thousand pities," said I; "you are half a century behind, Señor Don Jaime. Fifty years ago every chance would have been in favor of a cavalier of your figure and appearance. Now I am afraid that time is past."
An almost imperceptible smile broke upon the lips of the Biscayan, but I could not guess whether it was caused by the compliment I had paid him, or pity for the incredulity I had manifested.
"Since you are in the indulgent vein, and I in the indiscreet one, Señor Don Jaime, allow me to ask you this last question Have you supped to-night?"
The brow of the Spaniard lowered. I feared I had abused rights acquired on such a slender acquaintance as mine; but his noble self-respect never gave way. He was, besides, too much of a gentleman to blush because he was poor.
"I have," replied he, with a gracious smile. "May I have the honor of offering you a portion of my supper?"
The Spaniard tendered me a cigarette.
"What! was that all your supper?"
"A cigarette! fie on it; it is, in truth, somewhat too meagre a repast for the last descendant of the Counts of Biscay. I have consumed more than a dozen of them, and have not made a very good supper."
This seemed to have exhausted the patience of the poor nobleman. He said nothing for a few moments, and then, with an air of calm dignity, exclaimed,
"Señor Cavalier, I have granted you the only thing it was in my power to bestow in this world my hospitality, such as it is. Enjoy yourself at my fire as much as you please; but, after a hard day's journey, you will pardon me if I betake myself to rest. May God bless and protect you!"
The Biscayan threw some sticks upon the fire, wrapped himself up in his cloak, and, after bidding me good-night with a wave of his hand, lay down. I threw my eyes mechanically around. More fortunate than their master, and half hidden by the icy fog of evening, the two horses cropped the short, withered grass which grew on the stony plain. My heart swelled, and a deep feeling of respectful sympathy took possession of me at seeing this deep misery so nobly supported.
"Señor Don Jaime," said I, with a broken voice, "I thank you for the hospitality you have shown me, and, in-return, I should be both proud and happy if you would take the use of my chamber in the venta."
The young traveler started and sat up; his eyes sparkled in his pale face. He seemed to hesitate for a moment; he then held out his hand.
"I accept your offer," he said; "you will do me a service I shall never forget. I must now tell you, in confidence, that I had vainly solicited that accommodation from the huesped, for which I was too poor to pay, but which on this night, and this night only, I would thankfully have paid for with my heart's blood."
This reply was an additional mystery to me; but I had now become Don Jaime's host, and that prevented me from asking any questions. We took the two horses by the bridle, and, without exchanging a word, returned to the venta.
- ↑ Chemises from Brittany,
And husbands from Spain.