THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT DIAZ.
The two great scientists, Señor Don Miguel Lehumada and Señor Guillermo
Gonzales, had been more successful in their treatment with “Liquid from
the Sun’s Rays”—or “Memory Fluid,” as their wonderful discovery had
become to be known—than their most sanguine hope for its success could
have been in the start.
Their belief in the first place was that they had secured a fluid from
the Sun, which would under proper conditions destroy every species of
bacteria in man; that while the death of disease was taking place, each
of the mental faculties and the spiritual nature of man as well, would
begin taking on its normal condition, and when the body became freed
from all depleting causes, these faculties would be in a condition to
rise to a high degree of development. Further, they believed that the
fluid they had discovered would have a particular effect upon the
memory; not only in restoring it to its normal condition, but in causing
it to bring to mind every incident in one’s life.
But strange to say, their wonderful fluid went further in its effect
upon memory, than the present life of the person upon whom the
experiments were being carried. It penetrated the sarcophagus of every
previous existence and resurrected every thought and experience. It
mirrored all the physical, social and spiritual environments, of each
life of the person as plainly to him as if they were occurrences of
yesterday instead of the remembrances of events in one’s other lives;
which he had lived perhaps ages and ages ago.
It was not until many experiments had been performed successfully, and
the remembrances of each subject faithfully recorded, that they let the
public know of their wonderful achievements.
Then it received its first knowledge of the scientific investigations
and the results, of the two scholarly men of Chihuahua through the
medium of the work—“Liquid from the Sun’s Rays” by the distinguished
Governor of the State.
The eyes of the entire world were centered upon them at this time,
watching intently for their great test case to be concluded. A case
which they claimed would furnish the world sufficient proof to convince
it, that their great discovery, “Memory Fluid,” accomplished all they
claimed for it and very much more.
On his return from “the States,” the Governor had said, that in
twenty-four-hours’ time they would have sufficient proof collected to
enable them to give the results of their test case to the public. And in
truth, they did have; but complications had arisen which would result in
them being able to give stronger proof of the effect of “Memory Fluid”
upon mind and matter.
But these very complications would require time for arrangement, and the
public must wait. The eager, avaricious public, tale-bearing public,
panted with suspense, caused by the delay.
The two great men were in no hurry; they had reached their present plane
of advancement by a succession of lives carefully planned during one
hundred and fifty years.
Fifty years seems a long time for the single life of one man, and it is.
But when a person with a mind so full of desire for knowledge is cut off
at the end of fifty years, the time seems short. He is cut off at an age
in which he is in a condition to begin to take on higher and better
knowledge. It is the desire for a continuance, on a higher plane, in a
physical life that causes one to return to earth and take up the new
life where the old left off.
The press spoke of the two scientists as marvels of the day. It claimed
that history did not record any great discovery to have been made by men
so young as the discoverers of “Memory Fluid,” hence they were spoken
of—not without satire, however—as being inspired—and their discovery—if
it contained a grain of truth—as a miracle.
Ten years previous these two great men, living in the same city, meeting
only occasionally and then as strangers, had for many years secretly
recognized each other as a compatriot, a fellow-student; a friend in
other lives, two other lives long since passed away. Yet for the want of
more confidence in self; for the courage to confront his fellowman and
avow his knowledge of a superior soul development, and physical
advancement, each held aloof.
The occasion for mutual acknowledgment arrived. It was a supreme moment.
They fell on each other’s necks and wept for pure joy. From that moment
they spent hours each day reviewing events of their past; studying to
develop the present, to bring about by scientific discoveries, a means
which would show to the world that the sins committed in this body must
be appeased on earth; if not in the life in which the sins were
committed, then in another life. Perhaps the guilty one would pass
through several lives unmolested; but the day of reckoning, however,
certainly would come, retribution would surely overtake every evil doer.
The result of their investigations was the famous “Memory Fluid,” which
accomplished for them more than they hoped.
It was with much amusement often, that the two wise men discussed the
subject of their youth, at which the public marveled. How well they knew
they were _not young_ in experience, or years. It was laughable to read
the statements of the credulous editors, credulous from a materialistic
point of view; but wholly incredulous when it came to questions of
spiritualistic discussion.
The age in which they now lived was more in sympathy with materialistic
ideas than in any of their previous existences. They were not surprised,
for it seemed prophetic that evil, that materialistic views, should
reach the pinnacle of fame before a revolution would occur which would
demolish their false ideas. And they had hoped that the revolution was
near at hand—and they prayed that it might be brought about by their
wonderful discovery. Victory was sure to follow. And what a glorious
victory it would be! A victory of life over death; of health over
disease; of spirit over flesh; of the righting of all wrong; of the
assurance of everlasting life.
Events which pointed very plainly to materialistic and spiritualistic
controversy were taking place on every hand, yet the masses adhered to
materialistic views or to the dogmatic teachings of the churches.
A hundred and thirty-eight years had passed since the American Continent
was convulsed by an internal revolution. This revolution took place
immediately upon the death of President Diaz, of the Republic of Mexico.
It was a short and terrible conflict. At the earnest solicitation of all
State officials; of the entire army; of a large majority of the
professional fraternity; of prominent people of wealth and business, the
United States interfered in behalf of the law-abiding citizens of the
Republic; and quelled the internal revolt.
The mere presence of the army of the United States upon Mexican soil,
the fact of the army of so great a nation occupying their soil, not by
force, but by the earnest pleadings of many of the best citizens of
Mexico, those who wished to see the republican form of government,
established by General Diaz, continued, was enough within itself to keep
the small parties of revolutionists in each state quelled.
Only a small number of fights occurred, and in each but very few lives
were lost.
During the year the American army occupied Mexico, and many of her best
war ships were anchored off the Mexican coast for further protection,
the Mexican people convinced themselves thoroughly of their
impossibility to maintain a republican form of government when there
were so many small factions fighting for the rulership of the nation;
and there was not a man in the army or in any other vocation of life,
who had the confidence of the educated sufficiently to unite them, or
the power to hold the peons and rabble in submission.
Toward the close of the year the state of their unsettled condition was
awful to behold. Something must be done, and that quickly; or a fearful
struggle, a long war would take place.
It was finally decided to ask, to petition the American government to
annex the Mexican Republic to the United States of America, without any
delay, provided three-fourths of the States of Mexico and a majority of
voters in the Federal District desired it.
The day set on which votes for and against annexation should be cast was
the same day of the month on which occurred the birth of General
Porfirio Diaz—the greatest leader they had ever known; the maintainer of
peace and progress in their land—the fifteenth of September.
The scenes enacted on the day of voting made another black page in the
history of the Mexican people.
The combined effort of the Mexican army in favor of annexation and the
army of occupation saved the country from a most fearful homicide.
The rabble set to work by the priesthood, who seemed to think the day
especially set apart for them to gain prominence by helping to defeat
the annexation question, caused the trouble. Their people plundered,
murdered, set fire to the homes and business houses of prominent people
whom they knew were in favor of annexation.
It certainly required months for the vast army of rabble to be organized
and drilled, to be able to accomplish so much evil before their
nefarious deeds became known, before they started out upon their grand
parade of open revolt. Notwithstanding there was an organization of this
kind in the capital of every state in the Republic, a very large
majority of the States went for annexation.
A petition for immediate annexation was presented to the Government of
the United States by a large and representative body of Mexican
citizens, which pleaded for an extra session of Congress to convene,
which occurred with results satisfactory to each nation. And Mexico
became a part of the United States of America without further delay.
More than one hundred years had passed since the memorable event, and
Mexico had grown to be possibly the most important part of the United
States.
There had been a long reign of peace and prosperity, and the fact that
this part of the United States had been, long ago, a hot-bed for
internal revolution, was only known to the present generation by reading
from the pages of history an account of her brave people struggling for
independence—struggling for enlightenment; for the maintenance of a
republican form of government.
The two great scientists and their most able coworker were of purely
Mexican origin; in no existence previous to this one had there ever been
any mixing of blood.
Governor Lehumada took no especial pride in the fact that there was no
Anglo-Saxon or other than his native Latin blood in his veins.
Neither did the other two great scientists—Guillermo Gonzales or Julio
Murillo. They had no prejudices; they were too intelligent and learned.
They advocated intermarriage of the races. They believed that it was
necessary for a high degree of intelligence to be preserved.
However, their own existence—the very high degree of their
intellectuality and spiritual development was an exception to the rule
they advocated.
There are people who without apparent cause carry prejudices in families
for hundreds of years, and while their real feeling may not have any
publicity, is only due to the fact that no occasion presented itself for
them to declare their opinions.
There are a few of this class of people living in the capital of
Chihuahua, who pride themselves on the fact that they have never crossed
the Rio Grande; that they do not speak the English language; that they
have no associates amongst the Anglo-Saxon American people. These
persons are not without influence, often being people of wealth and
position; and they now believed their time had come to make known their
views concerning the race question.
Many of the large newspapers were full of the absurd ideas of these
people. They claimed that the wonderful discoveries of their two
townsmen were due to the fact that through their veins coursed no
foreign blood. They claimed they could see through the shadows events
which foretold the complete extinction of the Anglo-Saxon race on
American soil and the re-establishment of the Mexican Republic.
Sensational papers published their articles, and wise people laughed at
them over their morning meal.
When questioned about the opinions of their countrymen, the Governor and
Señor Guillermo Gonzales impressed their interviewers with the fact that
they were perfectly intolerant of such restricted ideas. That it was
very embarrassing to them, being of purely Mexican descent, and striving
to bring about a means for the improvement of man, to be held up for a
target at which the known world would hurl its anathemas.
They now knew no nativity save the United States of America; they knew
no Master but God.
They held in esteem only such people who were striving to improve their
physical and spiritual state. They held no one in contempt because he
was poor, ignorant, dissipated; full of disease and depravity. They knew
the time was close at hand when a desire would be born within the soul
of each for a knowledge of Truth; that the scales of disease which
obscured the light from their soul would decay, and victory would cry
out. These very people who secretly hated their foster-mother were the
stumbling-blocks to every enterprise, headed by a person of Anglo-Saxon
origin, particularly if the advocator be of American parentage and was
born in the United States north of the Rio Grande.
They aided and abetted the clergy. They fought strenuously against any
modern improvements in the Catholic Church. Their ancestors were so bold
once, that they held a meeting of indignation, when some of their
brethren of more modern ideas were determined that the poor of the
church, as well as the rich, should have comfortable seats; they
contended that it was a relic of slavery and heathenism for people to
prostrate themselves on a dirty floor to worship.
The voluptuous, avaricious priests hated to see the innovation. They
knew it meant a waning of their power. Yet when questioned by the
advanced members of their flock, they could not refuse their consent.
The opposing party were petted and pampered by the priest, who consoled
them by saying—and truthfully—that upon them the salvation of the church
rested. It was a terrible, terrible day when the long, barren church,
save for the candelabras, the paintings of the saints and images of
Marie and Jesus, and its wonderful altar of purple and gold, was
furnished with comfortable seats for the poor; the very poor, who with
their _centavos_, _centavos_ (which they obtained mostly by begging and
plundering), helped to build the magnificent cathedrals, and entirely
supported a vast army of parasitic creatures called priests, in idleness
and voluptuousness.
The few in Chihuahua who were so unfortunate as to have for their
ancestors a class of people wedded to catholicism as practiced in Mexico
in 1899, and adhered to it, needed the sympathy of every enlightened
person seeking for spiritual knowledge.
Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir was the most prominent member of the few
who resented the present _régime_ of things, simply because his
forefathers did a hundred and thirty-eight years ago. He was a man of
great wealth. He insisted on the “Don” before his name and invariably
signed his mother’s name, Falomir, to his own, as was the custom then.
His family ate _tortillas_ and _frijoles_ three times a day; drank
_pulque_, _aqua miel_, _mescal_, and _aguar’diente_—the latter two when
they wished their troubles drowned; both of which are powerful
intoxicants.
The male members of the family wore _sombreros_, short ornamental coats,
sashes of many colors; and skin-tight trousers of light colors. The
women and girls of the family wore black _rebozos_, and lace _mantillas_
over their heads; the _criada_ cooked on the _brasero_, and never failed
to serve _ensaladas_ and _tomales_ on holidays and feast days as was the
custom from time immemorial up to the date the Republic became a part of
the United States. This family was spoken of by their townsmen as
oddities and were rather liked for their old-fashioned ideas; they were
hospitable to the extreme with their own countrymen, and generous to a
fault to the poor of Mexican lineage who adhered to the religion of
their fathers. They were unobtrusive in social affairs and political
affairs, but interfered in everything commercial where it was possible.
Their interference was always in a quiet way, however, and attracted the
attention of no one but those directly interested. They inherited the
cunning and silence of their ancestors and acquired more unconsciously,
by long contact with races which held them in submission. It required no
effort to conceal their real feeling toward the country of which they
were now a part, which took them under its protecting wing at the
earnest solicitation of their best people at a time when the growing
Republic was bereft of its main support; the great and noble leader,
Diaz, who caused every avenue of progress to be opened up for his
people. A man who loved the Mexican people, for whom he had fought and
labored, next to his God. The American people claimed him as one of
their heroes, and even the present generation honor his memory with as
much fervor as if he had been one of them, as if the Republic he
established and maintained had been a part of the States.
Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir’s ancestors belonged to the faction
which strove to make the Church stronger; to the faction opposed to
Diazism, to progress. He seemed to take an uncanny pride in nourishing
the frightful skeleton he had inherited.
Little did he think that the very fact that he made bold to step out and
hold an indignation meeting, like his ancestors, against the “powers
that be,” that the cherished skeleton would be brought forth and aired
with a result of disaster to his present life, that is, disaster in a
certain way. As much as Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir hated, or
pretended to hate, the Americans and their language, he had now in his
employ a poor, but highly educated young American woman, Helen Hinckley.
She spoke his language and understood it as perfectly as if it were her
native tongue.
She had no prejudices against the race from which her employer claimed
to have sprung. She rather admired the quaint, old-fashioned customs to
which he and his family adhered.
She was evidently of strictly American origin. She had no relative, no
home, and no money but what she earned. She described herself as a lost
spirit roving over the world in search of friends and a permanent
abiding-place. That was the only answer she gave herself or anyone else,
when questioned why she was alone and in Chihuahua or any other place.
She had been in Chihuahua only one night, when she read in the great
daily, _The Chihuahuan_, the next morning, the advertisement of her
present employer, which stated that he wanted an educated American who
understood the Spanish as well as his own tongue, who was quiet and
unobtrusive, to act as secretary. He preferred a person with no family
ties; and one who would consent to live in his family for a year.
Whatever salary such a person required for his services would be
forthcoming at the end of each month.
When Helen Hinckley walked into the old-fashioned adobe house standing
in the center of a large garden, around which was the old-time high
adobe wall, and stood in the magnificent _patio_ gazing at the rare
flowers, beautiful birds and sparkling fountain, she felt as if she were
not a stranger to these very scenes. She was startled and yet made very
happy, neither of which feelings could she account for.
When shown into the long reception-room she showed her surprise, to see
it full of applicants eager to get the position for which she had come
to apply.
She was about to retire, for she was sorry for these earnest
breadwinners, whose only happiness seemed to be in material existence.
Besides, she felt intuitively that if she applied, all of those present,
who needed the position worse than herself, would go away with a heavy
heart, still she lingered in the _patio_.
To the left of the room where the many applicants breathlessly waited to
know their fate, was the small but well-appointed office of Don
Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir, where, one at a time, he examined the
applicants.
When he saw Helen, he stepped to the open door and said: “Oblige me,
señorita, by passing into my private office.” He immediately dismissed
the other applicants with the quiet and polite information that he had
secured one whose recommendations were all he required. He further told
them that he hoped they would soon secure employment, as no doubt they
were all competent, and (with a ring of satire in his voice), being
Americanos, were deserving. No great change had come over Don Francisco
R. Cantu y Falomir, yet judging by the great enthusiasm and cordiality
with which he greeted Helen Hinckley, on his return to his private
office, it seemed to indicate quite differently.
“Pardon me, señorita,” he said in greeting, “but I took the liberty to
say to the other applicants that I had employed a competent person as my
secretary, meaning you. I hope you will do me the honor to serve me in
this capacity. In fact, you are the person whom I have had in mind. Your
duties will be light; in fact, for some time to come, all the day will
be yours. I have only one request to make, and that is, while in my
house, you will have no social intercourse with my wife and children;
that you will stay closely in your own room or in some quiet spot in the
garden which my family do not frequent. When I want your services I will
send the _mozo_ for you. A _mozo_, saddle horse, and carriage are at
your disposal. You are from this moment to be at no expense. Every
comfort of home life we will supply you free, and your salary I will pay
now. How much do you require? Will you stay?”
Helen Hinckley replied without any hesitation: “Sir, you are courteous
and generous to the extreme. I thank you. I will enter into your
employment at once. I want for my services, five hundred dollars a
month.”
Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir stepped to his desk and handed her the
first month’s salary in shining gold; directed a dreamy-eyed _criada_ to
show the señorita to her room, and sent _un mozo de cordel_ to the hotel
for all of her belongings.