Michener, James A. (34 page)

'No! I wouldn't be allowed, for one thing. And for another, I wouldn't want to.'

The problem the young women were discussing became academic when Don Mordecai, accompanied by Father Ybarra, came formally to the Saldaria house on the plaza and asked Don Ramon for permission to marry his granddaughter Trinidad. To the old man's amazement, Marr presented him with translations into Spanish of three documents from Philadelphia signed by clergy-i men and a judge, testifying to the good character of Mordecai Marr and to the fine reputation of his family.

Don Ramon left the two men in the large entrance salon and sought his granddaughter, smiling at her bleakly and confessing: it's not what I wanted, and I'm sure it's not what you wanted, but . . .'

'There could be only one Rene-Claude,' Trinidad whispered.

'We should have accepted that Lieutenant Marcelino,' the old man said, 'but I drove him off.' He shook his head and stared at his granddaughter, prepared to terminate this loveless match if she spoke, but she did not.

'Do you accept him?' he asked, and she nodded.

There was no formal announcement of the proposed wedding, but rumors quickly spread through Bejar and even out to the ranch, so that when Don Mordecai rode there with two soldiers to inspect his future holdings he was greeted with congratulations and a jug of strong wine, which he shared with the Mexican and Indian families who would soon be working for him. The ranch men talked about needed improvements and Marr assured them that work would soon start. It was a happy meeting, with much discussion of Indians: 'Don Mordecai, we think that when you rode out and killed the Comanche and took back the children, you scared them away. We've seen none.'

'We'll make this ranch safe, and keep it safe,' he promised.

In all parts of Bejar he delivered the same message: 'We shall J-build permanently. We shall make this town important.' To thej: amazement of the townsfolk, he initiated trade with Zacatecas,

and what was more important, went to the area capital at Chihuahua over a trail that could scarcely be called a road: 'Bejar will be the major point for trade to the west. Within our lifetime this will be the center of a new empire, the empire of trade.'

But when the town was satisfied that it had obtained in Don Mordecai a new resident with powerful vision and great managerial capacity, it was shattered by the announcement that he was not, after all, going to marry Trinidad de Saldana, but Amalia Veramendi!

Yes, the more powerful family had approached him with the tempting proposal that if he married their daughter, the couple would be dowered with some forty thousand acres of the choicest land around Saltillo. Banns for the marriage were posted on the church door; congratulations flowed; and because his proposed marriage to Trinidad had remained only an informal arrangement, the community forgave Don Mordecai his impetuous behavior

Trinidad learned of the astonishing news from the casual conversation of a maid: i promised the Veramendi cooks that I would help them bake goods for the wedding.'

'And who's getting married over there?' Trinidad asked, and the maid replied: 'Amalia, to Don Mordecai.'

Trinidad did not weep; she did not even become angry. She walked quietly into her garden and leaned against a tree, endeavoring to understand the various facets of Don Mordecai's behavior: his arrogant arrival, his brutal love-making; his honest attempt to make amends; his obvious hunger for land; the temptation of the Veramendi lands. And she concluded that she'd had the misfortune to encounter a new type of man, with no morals and no honor. Bewildered and deeply hurt, she went to her grandfather and asked him quietly to ascertain the facts, and it was he who became violently angry, and when he returned he was grim-faced: The scoundrel has proposed to Amalia and been accepted. I told them frankly of his earlier interest in you, and assured them that if .' He could not finish, for he was trembling with an icy rage. He remained in this torment for two days, then realized what the honor of his family required. Striding across the plaza in the shadow of the church, he banged his way into Marr's warehouse, dapped him stingingly across the face, and challenged him to a duel.

He then reported to the presidio and asked young Lieutenant Vlarcelino to serve as his second, and the officer said stiffly: 'Duels ire illegal, as you know. But I cannot refuse, Don Ramon, for you lave been dealt a great blow, and I shall be proud to act as your ;econd.'

Marcelino found the captain of the presidio, Jose Moncado, and together they went to Marr's: 'Sir, you have been challenged by a gentleman of distinction. He is an old man with a trembling hand. To duel him would be an outrage. Please, please, go to him and apologize.'

'Nothing of the sort,' Marr said in slow, careful Spanish. 'He's done little but insult me since I came here, and I want to finish with him.'

it would be murder for an excellent shot like you to accept this old man's challenge.'

'His insults started on the first day . . . when he barred his door . . refused me entrance.'

'You insist?'

i do. Amalia's brother will be my second.'

The two then went across the plaza to dissuade Don Ramon from his folly, and they pointed out the dreadful danger he faced: 'Several times the americano has proved what an expert shot he is. You must withdraw your challenge.'

Don Ramon looked at his visitors as if he were an innocent child being reproved for something he did not understand and which he had not done: 'He has dishonored my granddaughter. What else can I do?'

'But at the Comanche fight, he never missed.'

'What has that to do with me? I fire. He fires. It's a matter of honor.'

When they found that they could not deter him, they enlisted the support of Don Lazaro, a curious choice, since he was grandfather to the Veramendi girl whose acceptance of Marr had caused this trouble, he tried, however, to be persuasive: 'My dear old friend, he will kill you for certain.'

'Not if I kill him first.'

'You can scarcely lift a heavy pistol, let alone fire it.'

'I'll hold it in two hands. It's a matter of honor.'

Don Lazaro considered this for a moment and agreed. 'You have no choice, that is true. May God protect you.' Then he said: i had nothing to do with Amalia's agreement to marry him. My son did that. I was ready for an americano, but not this one,' and with that he bowed to Don Ramon and returned home.

So on a June morning in 1792, two parties left town and walked to a slight rise overlooking the river south of town, where three of the missions lay like a string of pearls. A level space was marked off, a line drawn, and starting places for the duelists indicated. Captain Moncado said stiffly: i shall count to fifteen. At each count, you will take a pace away. As soon as I cry "Fifteen" you

may turn and fire.' Then he changed the tone of his voice and asked passionately: 'Gentlemen, will you reconsider 7 There is no justification for this duel.' When neither contestant spoke, he said with near-disgust: 'So be it. I shall start counting.'

With each numeral sounding in the crisp morning air, the two men, so pathetically ill-matched—a Spanish gentleman at the end of his days protecting his conception of honor, an American invader with his own rough ideas of justice—moved apart.

'Fourteen!' Moncado cried. 'Fifteen!'

Don Ramon whirled, fired with trembling arms, and sent his bullet far to the right, kicking up dust at the foot of a wayward tree.

'Don Mordecai!' Moncado shouted, 'Show mercy!'

But Marr, who had anticipated this wild shot and who had postponed firing until it took place, drew steady aim, kept his pistol motionless, and fired a bullet straight into the old man's heart.

When the burial of Don Ramon had been solemnized, by a friar from Santa Teresa and not by Father Ybarra, the heavy consequences of the duel began to emerge, for it was now that the priest saw fit to announce the results of his investigations into ancient malfeasances at Mision Santa Teresa. Had Marr proceeded with his proposed marriage to Trinidad, Ybarra would have buried his accusations out of deference to his prize convert, but with Marr marrying the Veramendi girl, the priest felt free to indulge his vengeance upon a young woman he disdained:

Even the most cursor)' inquiries at San Antonio de Bejar would satisfy a judge that the so-called saint Fray Damian de Saldana, founder of Mision Santa Teresa, committed acts of the gravest impropriety in tricking the then viceroy into approving a devious plan whereby Damian's brother, Captain Alvaro de Saldana of the presidio, obtained possession of lands pertaining to the mission. Some, commenting on the trickery whereby this exchange took place, call it ordinary family protection; others call it more accurately plain theft.

I recommend that even though Mision Santa Teresa may soon be secularized and its possessions redistributed as the court in Madrid decides, it is imperative that lands stolen from it be returned immediately, so that a just disposition of them can be made. I recommend that the ranch known as El Codo in the bend of the Medina west of Bejar be taken from the Saldana family and restored to its rightful owner. Mision Santa Teresa.

When the order approving this reached Bejar, Captain Moncado sorrowfully and Father Ybarra joyfully served notice on Trinidad that she must surrender the twenty-five thousand choice acres, along with any buildings situated on them and all cattle grazing there. She would be left the house in town and the few plots of land scattered about Bejar, but nothing more.

With her customary nobility, she acquiesced, without showing any rancor toward Father Ybarra, who had persecuted her in so many ways; on the Sunday following her dispossession she even went to church for solace, enduring one of his last sermons prior to his return to the capital. He used as his text the parable of the faithful servant, pointing out how Fray Damian had proved faithless to his trust, whereas he, Ybarra, had come north as a faithful servant to rectify that wrong.

When he was gone, Trinidad discovered that although the court trials and paper work relating to the formal transfer of El Codo would take years, the friars at Mision Santa Teresa retained possession only four days before turning it over to the Veramendis, who gave it to their daughter Amalia as a wedding present. This, when added to Rancho San Marcos, which adjoined it and which was also given to the newlyweds, meant that Don Mordecai, in town barely two years, now controlled forty-three thousand acres: ten miles along the river, seven miles wide.

The happy couple saw Trinidad occasionally, and when they did a miracle of human behavior occurred: they forgave her. As often happens when a crime of grave dimension has been perpetrated, the guilty made a great show of forgiving the innocent, so that when the Mordecai Marrs met Trinidad in the narrow streets or in the plaza, they smiled generously. One afternoon Amalia actually came to visit, a young, gracious, condescending matron, and she explained that since Mordecai had obtained land near Bejar, he now saw no necessity to move on to Saltillo, which had been his original intention when he learned that the Veramendis had huge estates there: 'We shall be very happy here in Bejar, I'm sure. Mordecai's trade with Chihuahua increases monthly.'

These social scandals of Bejar were forgotten when the Comanche went on another rampage. After slaying scores of isolated countrymen to the west they tried to overrun El Codo, but its fortifications held. So they raged on to Bejar itself, mounting such a furious assault that all men and women, and even children, had to be mustered by Captain Moncado to hold them off.

They struck the town with fury, breaking down barricades, killing many but failing to reach the houses about the central plaza. Repulsed by the bravery of Moncado and his stout right arm

Mordecai Marr, who fired four different guns as fast as women could reload them, the Comanche turned abruptly, struck at unprotected Mision Santa Teresa, and overwhelmed it. Two young friars there were pierced with a score of arrows. The older domesticated Indians were slain by fierce stabs and slashes, the younger were kept alive for prolonged torture, the children to serve as slaves. Infuriated by the resistance, the Comanche set all buildings ablaze, battered down the wooden doors of the stone church and took savage, howling delight in throwing upon the fire Simon Garza's great carvings of the Fourteen Stations.

In flames the patient work of Fray Damian disappeared. The Indian houses so carefully built by Fray Domingo in 1723 vanished; the barns where the cows had given birth and the cribs in which their feed had been stored, the school where children had learned to sing, and the cell in which Damian had praved for guidance—none survived the rage of the Comanche.

LOSS OF THE NORTHERNMOST MISSION CAUSED FATHER YbaRR*

to speed his report on the remaining five, and in his careful recommendations to Zacatecas, Mexico City and Madrid, he summarized the criticisms of Spain's mission effort:

In advising you to halt the operations of the Franciscans in Be|ar and throughout the rest of Teias, with the two exceptions already noted. I act in pain and sorrow, but the facts can support no other conclusion.

The first important mission of which 1 have knowledge was San Francisco de los Tejas in the Nacogdoches region, established in 1690. Others so numerous that 1 cannot name them followed, including the six at Bcjar starting in 1718. At the end of a hundred vears of concentrated and costly attempts to Christianize the Indians, I find after a most careful count that Tejas contains exactly four hundred and seventeen Christian Indians, and not one of them is an Apache or a Comanche Captain Moncado at the presidio in Bejar estimates that it requires three and one half soldiers to protect each Indian convert, vet the converts perform no tasks beneficial to the general society

I am most suspicious of the conversions that do occur Most of the converts are old women who have lived lives of great licentiousness and deem it prudent to have their sins remitted before thev die The young, the hardy and those who could do strong work for Jesus are little touched by the missions; as a matter of fact, if we secularized them all immediately, the young Indians might well be inclined to join our established churches at one-tenth the cost and ten times the results.