July 1, 1898, at sunset, the fair folds of our own stars and stripes
were gently floating over San Juan hill.
On that day some of the most heroic deeds in American history had been
performed by those who represent the highest types of American virility.
Roosevelt's Rough Riders had, that day, advanced behind their intrepid
leader, into the very jaws of death and very many of them never came
again into the pleasant walks of life they'd known before that fateful
day ... very many of them lay scattered over the different heights that
led on to the very top of San Juan hill, inert and helpless human
tenements that had once held the proud and willing spirits of the men
who followed Roosevelt with love and daring.
Some of them were picked up and carried to temporary hospitals that had
sprung up near the scene of active warfare; in one of these shelters for
the wounded Ruth Wakefield stood, that evening, bending low above a
little cot on which was stretched a manly form ... the form of one who'd
ridden with the rest of those who followed him they called, in
brotherly affection, "Teddy," and who was beside him when his horse was
shot from under him.
"Nurse," he whispered, through the bandages that bound his head, "Nurse,
it would have done you good to hear him say 'Forward! Charge the hill!'
It would have heartened you could you have seen him, when he was
unhorsed, grab a rifle and fire it as he went on up, on foot."
"You must not talk," said Ruth. "You must rest quietly, now. We won the
hill," she added, proudly. "We won the hill and I'm as proud as anyone
could ever be of Roosevelt and of you all who followed after him. I
sometimes wish," she ended, "I sometimes wish that I had been a man to
go into the battles instead of only caring for the wounded ... yet I'm
thankful to be of some assistance to the ones who need the help that I
can give to them."
"You should have seen," began the man again, "you should have seen our
Teddy charge that hill! They do not make a man like that except about
once in a century or so ... they do not make such men as that in every
age.... I tell you he's a holy terror when it comes to fighting, Nurse!
He mowed them down ... he made them crawl and creep.... I always knew he
could do more on horseback than any man that ever lived but I never
knew, until today, what he could do on foot."
"Our Teddy is a wonder.... I agree with you in everything you say of
him, but, now," once more she was the nurse in charge, "you must be
very still ... that is," she ended, with a happy little turn of thought,
"if you ever want to go where Teddy is, again."
That was enough to silence him and he lay very still and fixed his eyes
upon her face, and, finally, he slept, and rested from his labors for a
time; but what he'd said stayed in Ruth's inner consciousness and the
heart that throbbed within her beat more proudly after that, because she
was, as was the man his comrades praised, an American; to her that
title was enough to fill with pride a human heart ... to be a true
American ... a citizen of the United States of America ... it seemed to
her meant more than any royal appellation ever could; no crown adorned
with priceless jewels could replace that name to her; at one time in her
life, this question had been asked of her:
"What would you do if you must choose between all that you love on earth
and fealty to some other than your native land, and this one country
that you call your own?"
"What would I do?" she answered. "I would not renounce my fealty to my
native land.... I would keep God and my conscience and my country ... no
one could take them from me ... all the rest I'd leave behind and cleave
to them."
Ruth Wakefield meant this statement and she proved it later on beyond
all shadow of a doubt.
When her first patient slept, Ruth went to stand beside another cot for
she was always privileged to go wherever she might choose; her help in
many ways, including financial aid, had made this hospital possible and
she went at will among the other nurses who looked up to her as women
will to one who is a natural leader of the ones with whom she
associates.
She came, at length, to a cot that was apart from all the rest because
its occupant had needed to be isolated for good reasons; he was violent,
at times, the nurses said ... when his fever rose he soon became
delirious and they had hard work keeping him under any sort of control;
he was a native scout, they told her ... he had done good work that day
upon the side of right, and, so, Ruth went to care for him, for it was
just as natural for her to take heavy work as it was natural for the
rest to let her do it.
Soon after she had taken charge of him, he stirred uneasily and mumbled
in his restless sleep ... he spoke a name she'd hoped to never hear
again ... the name of him whom she had loved enough to marry....
"Victorio Colenzo," moaned the man, "Victorio Colenzo is dead and I ...
I am his murderer ... it was my hand that took his life.... I am a
murderer, good Father Felix.... I am the murderer of the man I hated,
for he took the girl I loved from me.... I killed him with my own
machete and he is dead.... I am the murderer of Victorio Colenzo ...
shrive my soul, good Father Felix, for I am about to go before my
Maker."
The moaning ceased then, and Ruth bent over him to see if he still
lived, for she could see his very lips were livid and his eyes seemed
set and glazed as if with death's own dews; she put her hand upon his
head and looked into his face with earnest pity in her tender eyes, for
she was very pitiful and even lenient when faults of anyone except
herself were to be considered.
"The poor fellow is delirious," she thought. "He does not know what he
is saying. Odd that he should use that name. Poor fellow ... he will not
last long, I fear. I wonder if Father Felix could come to him."
With that thought, she turned to go to try to find the Priest, for he
almost always could be found where there was suffering and need of him,
but Manuello (for the reader has discovered who her patient was)
snatched at her hand as she was just about to go away and said to her:
"Please intercede for me, good Angel ... tell them I have never had a
chance in all my life ... tell them ... intercede...." and, then, his
weak voice died away in moans, again, "Tessa, please," he said, "don't
look at me that way!"
Again Ruth leaned above his bed, for in his eyes there was a look that
seldom comes except when death is near. She felt a gentle hand upon her
arm and knew that Estrella stood beside her ... she had come to seek
advice from her superior.
So they stood ... the widow and the sweetheart, and the murderer of the
man they both had loved, as virgins love, lay there before them.
Suddenly, he roused himself, as with a last and desperate effort, from
the lethargy of death itself ... he looked upon them standing there
beside his bed ... the woman he had loved as wild and rough and lawless
men will always love a woman and the one who seemed to him as if she
were an angel straight from paradise ... he imagined he had passed from
life as he had known that word, and was beyond all earthly help; and,
so, he did not call for human help but cried aloud on God to save his
deathless soul. It was horrible to hear his human lips cry out to God as
they were crying then, and Ruth regretted that Estrella stood so near to
him whom she had called her foster-brother, for she'd whispered
Manuello's name at once, so she sent her to find Father Felix if she
could and to bring him there to help this suffering soul.
After the girl had gone away, Ruth stood alone beside the cot and looked
with great commiseration on the almost senseless clay before her ... on
the staring eyes and sullen, dark-skinned pallor of the heavily scarred
face ... on the lips that once wore careless smiles but, now, were
drawn and pale ... on the broad shoulders and powerful muscled arms. As
she gazed at him it seemed to her a very pitiful condition under which
he labored; she wondered why it had to be as it was with this strong,
untutored man; she wondered why he had to lay his strong, young body on
the altar of his passions and see it consumed as it had been by hate and
treachery; and, then, she remembered the service upon which he had just
been bent ... and her heart yearned over him for that alone; she leaned
above his face and searched it for a sign of returning strength but
found none there; his eyes stared into hers, it seemed, and then they
sought the moving shadows on the canvas overhead.
Ruth raised her head from gazing into Manuello's eyes and seemed to see,
above the cot on which he lay, another and a different form yet like to
that she saw inert before her; it was as if a glorified replica of the
man were floating over him; in many ways it was exactly like the
Manuello lying there upon that little cot, and, yet, the form was more
ethereal ... more delicate ... more beautiful than he could ever be and
live upon the earthly plane where he had found so many things to lead
him down and seldom found a single thing to lead him higher, or, at
least, found anything that he could fully understand, for, although
Father Felix tried to show him how to go to climb to better thoughts, he
had not seen the steps at all but blundered on along the path he found
himself upon.
As Ruth began to realize the change that she had seen take place, a rosy
flush crept over her fair face, she clasped her hands and bowed her head
in silent prayer:
"Father in heaven," she thought, "look down in mercy on this soul about
to come before You for Your judgment. Have pity on his faults for they
were very many ... have mercy on him, for his sins were very heavy in
his human life. He did not know the way to go, dear Father ... he could
not see the steps at all. Have pity on him for he will have need of pity
such as only You can give to him. Amen."
And when she lifted up her face again, good Father Felix stood beside
her, crucifix in hand. His head was also bowed in silent prayer for he
had witnessed many earthly deaths and knew, at once, that Manuello, as
he had been known in human life, had passed beyond all human judgment
and gone on to his reward or punishment in another world where
everything that he had done upon the earth would be accounted for by him
and him alone; the good Priest knew, however, that God is good as well
as just and he remembered Manuello's ignorance and superstition, too,
and hoped that, after he'd been purged of earthly sins by deep
repentance, he would come into the light that is God's Smile and shines
for all who seek it honestly, no matter what their sins on earth have
been, but only after long and terrible remorse for harm that they have
done while in the body that God gave them to use and not abuse.
The road that leads into the light that is God's Smile is often hedged
about by thorns and bitter herbs instead of delicate and fragrant
flowers; sometimes poisonous reptiles lurk along the way and strive to
strike their fangs within the heart of him who toils there; sometimes,
human passions guide a strong man into devious and sinful acts as
Manuello had been guided, more than once; he'd yielded to them just
because he had not learned the way to handle them and they had mastered
him and made of him their slave instead of being what he ordered them to
be; he'd thrown the remnant of his human life into the balance in the
cause he really loved ... the cause of freedom for his native land.
And Ruth and Father Felix thought of him as of a patriot only as they
stood beside the cot on which his lifeless body lay; they covered up his
face as gently as if they had not known of any sin committed by the
hands now lying still and cold and helpless ... they closed his staring
eyes as softly as they would have closed the eyes of any human being who
will read these words had he or she been left for them to care for when
the soul had left its earthly tenement; disembodied Spirits often linger
near to such as these who stood beside that cot, for they know that
they are like to them in very many ways, though yet abiding in a human
frame ... they know that such as Ruth and Father Felix feel the same,
sweet, almost holy joy that comes to those who meet and make welcome the
ones who leave the earth-plane, newly dead; though death, I trust, is
only just the change that frees a soul from earthly burdens and releases
it from earthly darkness, so that it may climb, when it is purged of
earthly sins, into the light that is the Smile of God and shines for all
who seek it earnestly.
I do not think that there can be an everlasting hell except for those
who wish to dwell in darkness. I do not think there can be perpetual
punishment except for those who do not wish to climb beyond it. Ruth and
Father Felix felt that this was so, although the good Priest tried to
think far otherwise, and, yet, deep down within his inner consciousness,
he felt that God, although He is so just, yet pities those who err and
welcomes all who wish to put their sins behind them in the path they
find themselves upon, no matter whether they may find that path upon the
earthly plane or on a higher one. They turned away from that white cot
with almost God-like pity in their inmost hearts for him who lay there,
or for him who had just left his body lying there upon that little cot.
Ruth sought Estrella so that she might not, again, behold the face of
him, who, for the love of her, had done a fearful crime; she wished to
save the girl for she had been as innocent of wrong as she, herself, had
been; both had been led away by human passion, it is true, but led
within the bounds of human law, and, so, according to that human law,
neither one was culpable ... the man, alone, had sinned, and whether it
had been because he had been stronger, every way, than were the women in
the case, we cannot judge. 'Tis God alone must judge us all, and may He
guide us all, at last, into the light that is His holy Smile.