THE COUNCIL.
While the travellers were listening with ever growing interest to the
astonishing story told by Don Aurelio, other strangers, coming from all
parts of the compass, flocked into the hacienda. They were principally
rich landowners of the province, or persons compromised in previous
struggles through their ardent love of liberty, and who, justly objects
of suspicion to the Spaniards, could only find security in a general
uprising. Don Aníbal tried to offer all these visitors, the majority
of whom were followed by a numerous and well-armed escort, a large
and generous hospitality. Hence, the interior of the hacienda soon
resembled a barrack, and though the dependencies of the mansion were
large, they were crowded with men and horses, so that the latter were
obliged to be placed in the courtyards and the gardens.
At four in the evening the number of strangers assembled at the
hacienda amounted to upwards of four thousand, which formed an imposing
force. Unfortunately, with the exception of a few experienced men who
had fought during the first tentatives made by the Mexicans to regain
their liberty, the rest were only poor peons who had never smelt
powder, and were completely ignorant of war. Still, whatever their
intrinsic value might be from a military point of view, all these
men burned with an ardent desire for liberty. They were devoted to
their masters, and if well led, it was plain that a good deal might
be expected from them; and that when once trained and disciplined,
they would become not only formidable through their numbers, but also
through their courage and the revolutionary fanaticism that animated
them. In the meanwhile they offered a most miserable and pitiable
appearance; pale, haggard, thin, scarce covered by their dirty ragged
clothes, and mostly armed with pikes, bows and arrows, they could only
excite a pity blended with contempt in the well-fed, disciplined, and
thoroughly-armed Spaniards.
However this may be, Don Aníbal de Saldibar saw them enter the hacienda
with a joy which he did not attempt to conceal, and he augured
favourably for the success of the plans he had formed, through the
promptitude with which his friends replied to his summons. At length
the moment arrived when it was impossible for another soul to enter
the hacienda, and the last comers were obliged to establish themselves
in an entrenched camp on the ground where in the morning so obstinate
a fight had been waged with the Indians. At night the hacienda was
surrounded as it were by a glittering halo, produced by the bivouac
fires of the rebels who were encamped on the plain.
When all the persons Don Aníbal expected were assembled he gave orders
for the hacienda gates to be shut, doubled the sentries, advised the
utmost vigilance, and entered the reception hall, whither he had
ordered his servants to conduct visitors of high rank. This hall, which
was of large, almost grand proportions, was filled by some two hundred
persons, who were collected in groups and conversing together in a
low voice, but with great animation. The entrance of Don Aníbal was
greeted with a prolonged "Ah!" which testified to the impatience of the
visitors.
The hacendero, after gracefully inviting his guests to take the seats
prepared for them, made his way through the groups, and approached
a table covered with a green cloth, round which were already seated
several strangers, among them being Don Aurelio Gutiérrez, the two
Canadians, and Viscachu, who had contrived unnoticed to find his
way among the select company. Don Aníbal waited until silence was
established, then he bowed several times to the visitors, and asked to
say a few words. Permission, was at once granted, for the company were
pleased in their hearts at thus seeing him take the initiative, and
assume the responsibility of the events which were about to take place.
"Señores," he said, in a firm, distinct voice, "permit me in the first
place to thank you cordially, in the name of the country, for the
eagerness you have kindly shown in accepting my invitation, in spite
of the difficulties of every description that opposed, the journey
you were about to undertake, and the perils you must meet with on the
road. In spite of our continued defeats since the day when the generous
Hidalgo first called us to arms, in spite of the triumphs of our
haughty oppressors, the cause we have sworn to defend, instead of being
destroyed, has, on the contrary, prospered, because the cause is a holy
one, as we fight for liberty, that undoubted right of all nations.
Before approaching the immediate subject of our meeting, let me
describe in a few words the events accomplished during the last twelve
years, in order that we may be able to judge our position healthily,
perceive whether the insurrection we are preparing is opportune, and if
its success is so certain as is asserted."
"Pardon me, señor," said Moonshine, as he rose to interrupt him, "I
perceive that you are preparing to discuss matters which are perfectly
indifferent to myself and my companions, as we are foreigners; we,
therefore, ask your permission to withdraw before we have heard any of
your secrets."
At these words, uttered with that crafty carelessness characteristic of
the French Canadian, the company rose tumultuously, and remarks were
made violently from all parts of the hall. Some even shouted treachery.
In a word, the confusion was tremendous. Don Aníbal and Don Aurelio
exchanged anxious glances, and tried in vain to appease the agitation
of their friends, and establish some degree of order in the meeting. At
length, by exhortations and entreaties, they succeeded in producing a
semi-silence, of which they hastened to take advantage.
"What!" Don Aurelio exclaimed, addressing Moonshine, "Are we not to
reckon on you and your comrade?"
"For what reason should you do so?" the adventurer said, bluntly. "We
have made no bargain; to my knowledge, you have made me no proposition
I am able to accept. _¡Viva Dios!_ business is business. The honourable
gentlemen I command have a right to ask me of an account of the blood
they have sold me. I suppose that they do not fight for mere amusement."
"You are perfectly in the right," Don Aníbal said, prudently and
politely. "Still, your noble and devoted conduct this morning lead us
to suppose that you wished to defend our cause."
"A mistake," Moonshine replied, with a shake of his head. "My friend
and myself only wished to give you a specimen of what these men
can do--that was all. And then, again, could we honourably abandon
travellers who trusted to our loyalty, and whom we had promised to
defend?"
"Certainly not," said the hacendero; "and in the name of these
caballeros, as well as my own, I thank you for your brilliant conduct,
and the valiant assistance you rendered them."
The company were beginning to grow tired of this conversation which
seemed to have no object. Shouts and threats were beginning to be heard
again. Don Aníbal understood that he must come to an end as quickly as
possible.
"Tell me, señores," he said, "are you free from engagements?"
"Completely," the adventurer replied.
"Do you feel disposed to fight for us?"
"Yes, if your terms suit us."
"Very good. These are the terms. You, Caballero, are appointed colonel
of a regiment of cavalry, which you will undertake to organize, and of
which your men will form the nucleus. Your pay will begin from today;
your engagement is for three months; and you will receive a month and a
half in advance. Do these terms suit you?"
"I find them very fair," the adventurer replied; "but how much will you
give my comrades?"
"Two piastres a man. Is that enough?"
"Certainly, if you are not too exacting."
"What do you mean?"
"If you will shut your eyes to certain things which take place after a
battle or a siege."
"Colonel, as your regiment is a free corps, it cannot be subjected to
the strict discipline of regular troops."
"Very good, I understand," the Sumach said, with a wink of intense
significance.
"Is that settled?"
"Yes; whatever may happen, I belong to you for three months."
"Good. As for you, señor," Don Aníbal continued, addressing Moonshine,
"what are your wishes?"
"Although my rifle knows how to talk when there is an opportunity, I
repeat that I am no soldier; I only ask to serve you as scout during
the campaign at the rate of six ounces a month. You can take it or
leave it."
"I accept," the hacendero said, quickly.
"All right. You can count on me as on my friend."
Don Aníbal, pleased with having settled this affair to the general
satisfaction, and ensured the insurrection the assistance of men of
tried bravery and experience, received the congratulations of his
friends, and prepared to continue his address. During this, Don Aurelio
leant over to the adventurers.
"I was convinced that you would join us," he said to them, in a low
voice.
"What would you have?" they replied, in the same key; "We have no
prejudices, and came to this country to take service with one or other
of the two parties. You met us first, that is all."
Don Aurelio could not restrain a smile of contempt, but made no answer.
As for the Canadians, they were firmly convinced that their conduct was
most honourable, and, as they were in a foreign country, they had the
right of acting as they were doing; a reasoning which, by the way, was
neither incorrect nor illogical.
"Señores," the hacendero continued, "since the time of Hidalgo, who,
carried away by his enthusiasm, believed that it was sufficient to
wish to be free to become so, our enemies have taught us to conquer
them; the battles of Tres Palos, Palmar, Acatita de Bajan, Cuautlo,
Chilpancingo, and many others in which we defeated our ferocious
adversaries, have proved that we were able to gain our liberty.
Unhappily the death of Morelos, by delivering our enemies from their
most formidable adversary, has plunged the nation into discouragement,
and occasioned that discord which has glided into our ranks and once
again riveted our almost broken fetters. Three mournful dates are
marked in our revolutionary annals: that of July 30, 1811, on which
Hidalgo was shot; December 22, 1815, on which Morelos shared the same
fate; and lastly, December 18, 1817, which saw the brave and generous
Mina also fall beneath the murderous bullets of the Spaniards. Do not
all these glorious dead who lie in their bloodstained tombs excite you
to emulate them? Has their precious blood been uselessly shed? I do not
think so; the glorious spark which is supposed to be extinguished is
smouldering beneath the ashes, and one word, one cry from you will be
sufficient to rekindle it. Will you hesitate at this supreme hour to
rise and die, if need be, like those who so nobly preceded you in the
arena?"
"No," Don Aurelio exclaimed enthusiastically, as he rose; "no, we will
not hesitate, for at your summons, Don Aníbal, we flocked to you, ready
to recommence the struggle, no matter what may happen."
"Yes," observed a hacendero, whose white hair, lofty stature, and
imposing glances inspired respect, "we are ready to fight and die if
necessary for that liberty which is so dear to us; but courage is
nothing without discipline; who will command us, who is the chief
we can select? The revolutionary martyrology is already long in our
country, although the contest only began ten years ago. In addition to
the three heroes you have mentioned, Don Aníbal, and whom the Spaniards
cowardly assassinated, what has become of those heroes who are more
obscure but equally worthy of mention, such as Matamoros, Galeana,
Bravo, Mier y Terán, Victoria, and Guerrero? They are also dead or
in flight. We do not lack soldiers but chiefs. What can we effect
against the old Castilian generals, against that Viceroy Apodaca,
who obtained from King Ferdinand the title of Count del Venadito for
the assassination of Mina, and who, employing with diabolical skill
the faults we have not ceased to commit, has almost succeeded in
extinguishing that patriotic fire which emitted such dazzling flames
but a few months back?"
"What!" Don Aníbal remarked vehemently, "Would you despond? Do you
believe that chiefs will be wanting, and that Providence who has up to
the present done so much for you, will abandon you?"
"Heaven forbid my entertaining such a thought," the old man replied;
"for ten years I have furnished sufficient proof of my devotion to
the cause of Independence for my opinions not to be suspected. As you
said yourself, Don Aníbal, the struggle we are about to begin must be
decisive, and the last hour of liberty or slavery will strike for us!
I confess with sorrow that although I have looked carefully around,
I see no person capable of taking on himself the perilous honour of
commanding us, no one worthy of marching at our head, no one whose
military talent can cope with that of the Spanish generals."
"Are you sure you are not mistaken? Are you quite convinced that your
memory does not fail you at this moment, and that all the heroes who
formerly led us are dead?" Don Aurelio exclaimed, with a marked accent
of irony.
The old man started at being thus addressed, and his brow was
contracted as if by the weight of a sorrowful remembrance.
"Alas, Don Aurelio," he replied sadly, "one man alone has hitherto
escaped the death which all his comrades suffered in succession; but
his fate is only the more sorrowful. Confined in one of the dungeons
of the old Mexican Inquisition, he drags on in despair the rest of a
branded existence, which his torturers appear to have only left him
through derision. That man, were he free, might claim the honour of
commanding us, and we would gladly follow him. But, alas! What use is
it opening such cruel wounds? He will never be free, he will never be
allowed to see the sun again; he is compelled to die of misery in his
foetid dungeon."
"Are you quite sure of that?" Don Aurelio exclaimed. "Do you really
believe that heaven has so utterly abandoned us, and that the man to
whom you allude cannot recover his liberty?"
"Unhappily, I am but too certain of it. During the two years which have
elapsed since the Spaniards have treacherously seized him, no one knows
what has become of him. Shall I add that no one is certain that he is
still alive, and has not been strangled in his dungeon by the Viceroy's
orders?"
"Do you remember this person's name, señores?" Don Aurelio asked in a
loud voice.
"Don Pelagio," the company, shouted unanimously.
"No one has forgotten it; his name is inscribed on our hearts."
"If he were to reappear, what would you do?" Don Aníbal asked.
"It is impossible," the old man said, "he will not reappear; when the
Spanish lion holds a victim beneath its powerful paw, it does not let
him go, but rends him asunder."
"But tell me," Don Aníbal continued pressingly, "if Father Sandoval
reappeared, what would you do? Answer me!"
"Since you insist on an answer," the old man said with an accent of
supreme majesty, "I will give it you clearly and categorically, in
the name of all present, for I am persuaded that no one will dream of
contradicting me. If Father Pelagio were to appear suddenly in the
midst of us, we would immediately take an oath to conquer or die with
him."
"Do you swear it?" Don Aurelio asked again.
"Yes, we swear it!" all present exclaimed proudly.
Don Aníbal took a step forward, and approaching Viscachu, who had
hitherto remained modestly concealed behind Don Aurelio, he bowed
to him with marks of the deepest respect, and taking his hand, said
--"Father, your Excellency can throw off your incognito without fear;
there are none but true Mexicans here."