In the early part of January, 1812--about fifteen months after the
scenes detailed as occurring near the hacienda Las Palmas--two men might
have been seen face to face--one seated behind a rude deal table covered
with charts and letters--the other standing in front, hat in hand.
This tableau was within a tent--the least ragged and largest, among a
number of others that formed an encampment on the banks of the river
Sabana, at a short distance from the port of Acapulco.
The person seated wore upon his head a checked cotton kerchief while his
shoulders were covered with a _jaqueta_ of white linen. It would have
been difficult for any one not knowing him, to recognise in this
plainly-dressed individual the commander-in-chief of the insurgent army
encamped around, and still more difficult perhaps to have believed that
he was the _ci-devant_ "cura" of Caracuaro, Don Jose Maria Morelos y
Pavon. And yet it was he.
Yes, the humble curate had raised the standard of independence in the
southern provinces; had long been carrying it with success; and at this
moment he was commander-in-chief of the insurgent forces besieging
Acapulco--that very town he had been ironically empowered to take.
But notwithstanding the eccentric changes which civil war produces in
the situations of men, the reader cannot be otherwise than greatly
astonished when told, that the gentleman who stood in front of Morelos,
encased in the somewhat elegant uniform of a lieutenant of cavalry, was
the _ci-devant_ student of theology--Don Cornelio Lantejas.
By what magical interference had the timid student of theology been
transformed into an officer of dragoons--in the army of the insurgents,
too, towards whose cause he had shown himself but indifferently
affected?
To explain this unexpected metamorphosis, it will be necessary to enter
into some details, continuing the history of the student from the time
when we left him on a fevered couch in the hacienda of Las Palmas, till
that hour when we find him in the marquee of the insurgent general.
It may be stated, in advance, however, that the extraordinary
transformation which we have noticed, was entirely owing to a new act of
parsimonious economy upon the part of Don Cornelio's father, conducting
him into a series of perilous mishaps and desperate dangers, to which
his adventure with the jaguars and rattlesnakes, while suspended between
the two tamarinds, was nothing more, according to the simile of Sancho
Panza, than "_tortus y pan pintado_" (couleur de rose). To proceed,
then, with the promised details.
On recovering from his temporary illness, the student travelled on to
the dwelling of his uncle. He had been mounted in a more becoming
manner, on a fine young horse, which Don Mariano--who owned some
thousands of the like--had presented to him.
Having sounded the dispositions of the uncle, according to instructions,
he made all haste in returning to his father's house; which he reached
in less than half the time he had employed upon his previous journey.
Too soon, perhaps; for, had he been delayed, as before, two months upon
the route, he might have escaped the series of frightful perils through
which he was afterwards compelled to pass.
Before setting out on his mission to the bachelor uncle, he had finished
his preliminary studies for the ecclesiastical calling; and it only
remained for him to return to the college, and present his thesis before
the faculty of examiners, to take out his orders. For this purpose it
was necessary he should repair to Valladolid, where the university was.
To make the journey, his father now provided him with an old she-mule of
a most unamiable disposition, which he had obtained in exchange for the
young horse--the gift of Don Mariano--with a goodly number of dollars in
"boot."
Thus mounted, the student started on his new journey--carrying with him
the paternal blessing, and a long chapter of instructions, as to how he
should manage his mule, and keep himself clear of all meddling with
insurrectionary matters.
After journeying for two days along the route to Valladolid, he had
arrived within sight of the straggling huts that compose the little
_pueblita_ of Caracuaro, when three horsemen appeared upon the road in
front, and riding towards him.
The student was at the moment occupied in passing through his mind the
rudiments of his theological education--which he had gained from a crowd
of books; and which, with some uneasiness, he found had been well nigh
driven out of his head by his late adventures in the South.
Just at that moment, when he was paying not the slightest attention to
his mule, the skittish animal, frightened by the approach of the
horsemen, threw up her hind quarters, and pitched her rider upon the
road. As the latter fell, his head came in contact with a large stone,
and with such violence as to deprive him of consciousness.
On coming to his senses again, he found himself seated against the bank
of the causeway, his head badly bruised, and above all without his mule.
The animal, profiting by the opportunity when the three horsemen had
alighted to look after her spilt rider, had headed about, and taken the
back track at full gallop!
Of the three horsemen, one appeared to be the master, and the other two
his attendants.
"My son!" said the first, addressing the student, "your situation,
without being dangerous, is nevertheless sufficiently serious. You will
stand in need of that which you cannot obtain in the poor village of
Caracuaro, which is, moreover, nearly two leagues distant. The best
thing you can do is to mount behind one of my attendants, and ride back
with us to the hacienda of San Diego, which we shall reach in an hour.
Your mule has taken that direction; and I shall have her caught for you
by the _vaqueros_ of the hacienda. You will need a day or two of
repose, which you can there obtain. Afterwards you can resume your
route. Where were you going?"
"To Valladolid," replied Lantejas. "I was on my way to the University,
to enter into holy orders."
"Indeed! then we are of the same robe," rejoined the horseman with a
smile. "I myself am the unworthy curate of Caracuaro--Don Jose Maria
Morelos--a name, I presume, you have never heard before."
In truth the afterwards illustrious Morelos was at this time entirely
unknown to fame, and of course Don Cornelio had never heard his name.
The student was no little astonished at the appearance of the man who
had thus announced himself as the _cura_ of Caracuaro. For one of the
clerical calling his costume was altogether singular--to say nothing of
its being rather shabby. A double-barrelled gun, with one barrel
broken, hung from his saddle-bow, and an old rusty sabre in a common
leathern scabbard dangled against his horse's side.
The two domestics were still more plainly attired; and each carried in
his hand a huge brass blunderbuss!
"And you, Senor padre?" inquired the student in turn. "Where are you
going, may I ask?"
"I? Well," replied the _cura_, smiling as he spoke, "just as I have
told you--to the hacienda of San Diego. After that to Acapulco--to
capture the town and citadel in obedience to an order I have received."
Such were at this time the equipment and warlike resources of the
general, whose name afterwards obtained such heroic renown!
His response caused the candidate for holy orders to open his eyes to
the widest. He fancied that in the confusion of his head he had not
clearly comprehended the meaning of the _cura's_ speech; and he
preferred this fancy to the alternative of supposing that the worthy
priest of Caracuaro was himself suffering from mental aberration.
"What! you an insurgent?" inquired Lantejas, not without some
apprehension.
"Very true. I am, and have been for a long time."
As neither upon the head of the _cura_, nor yet of his two servants,
there appeared those diabolical ornaments which had been promised them
by the Lord Bishop of Oajaca, Don Cornelio began to think that perhaps
all insurgents were not delivered over to the devil; and, as there was
no alternative, he accepted the offer made to him, and mounted behind
one of the attendants. He had made up his mind, however, not to
accompany the curate of Caracuaro further than the hacienda of San
Diego, and to make as short a stay as possible in such suspicious
company. But he had scarcely completed this satisfactory arrangement
with his conscience, when the burning rays of the sun shining down upon
his head, caused a ferment in his brain of so strange a character--that
not only did the idea of this insurrection, excited by priests, appear
right and natural, but he commenced chanting at the top of his voice a
sort of improvised war song, in which the King of Spain was mentioned in
no very eulogistic terms!
From that time, till his arrival at the hacienda of San Diego, the
student was altogether unconscious of what passed--and for several days
after, during which he remained under the influence of a burning fever.
He had only a vague remembrance of ugly dreams, in which he appeared
constantly surrounded by armed men, and as if he was tossing about on a
stormy sea!
At length his consciousness returned, and on looking around he was
astonished to find himself in a small and poorly furnished chamber. He
now remembered his tumble from the mule, and his encounter with the
_cura_ of Caracuaro. Finally, feeling himself strong enough to rise
from his couch, he got up, and staggered towards the window--for the
purpose of ascertaining the nature of a noisy tumult that was heard
outside.
The courtyard under the window was filled with armed men--some afoot,
others on horseback. Lances with gay pennons, sabres, guns, and other
weapons were seen on all sides, glancing under the sunbeams. The horses
were rearing and neighing--the men talking loudly--in short, the scene
resembled the temporary halt of a _corps d'armee_.
His weakness soon compelled the invalid to return to his couch, where he
lay awaiting impatiently--the more so that he was half-famished with
hunger--the coming of some one who could give him an explanation of the
strange circumstances by which he was surrounded.
Shortly after, a man entered the chamber, whom the student recognised as
one of the attendants of the _cura_ of Caracuaro. This man had come, on
the part of his master, to inquire, the state of the invalid's health.
"Where am I, friend? tell me that," said Lantejas, after having answered
the inquiries of the servant.
"At the hacienda of San Luis."
The student summoned all his recollections; but these only carried him
as far as the hacienda of San Diego.
"You must be mistaken?" said he. "It is the hacienda of San Diego, is
it not?"
"Oh, no," replied the domestic. "We left San Diego yesterday; we were
no longer safe there. What folly of you, senor, to act as you did! No
matter how good a patriot one may be, it's not necessary to proclaim it
from the housetops."
"I do not comprehend you, my good friend," said Lantejas. "Perhaps it
is the fever that is still troubling my head."
"What I have said is clear enough," rejoined the domestic. "We were
obliged to quit San Diego, where the royalist troops would have arrested
us--on account of the loud declaration of his political opinions made by
a certain Don Cornelio Lantejas."
"Cornelio Lantejas!" cried the student, in a tone of anguish, "why
that's myself!"
"_Por Dios_! I well know that. Your honour took good care everybody
should know your name: since out of the window of the hacienda you
shouted with all your voice--proclaiming my master Generalissimo of all
the insurgent forces; and we had the greatest difficulty to hinder you
from marching upon Madrid."
"Madrid--in Spain?"
"Bah! two hundred leagues of sea was nothing to you to traverse. `_It
is I_!' you cried, `_I, Cornelio Lantejas, who take upon me to strike
down the tyrant_!' In fine, we were obliged to decamp, bringing you
with us in a litter--for my master would not abandon so zealous a
partisan, who had compromised himself, moreover, in the good cause.
Well, we have arrived here at San Luis; where, thanks to a strong body
of men who have joined us, you may have an opportunity of proclaiming
your patriotism as loudly as you please. For yourself, it can do no
further harm, since, no doubt, there is a price placed upon your head
before this time."
The student listened with horror, and completely stupefied, to this
account of his actions.
"And now, cavallero," continued the domestic, "my master, whom you were
the first to proclaim Generalissimo, has not permitted you to go without
your reward. He has appointed you an _alferez_, and named you to be his
aide-de-camp. You will find your commission under the pillow."
Saying this, the servant left the room, leaving the unhappy _alferez_
crushed beneath the weight of the astounding disclosures he had made to
him.