CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
TYRANT AND TOOL.
_El Excellentissimo Illustrissimo General Don Jose Antonio Lopez deSanta Anna_.
Such the twice sesquipedalian name and title of him who at this timewielded the destinies of Mexico. For more than a quarter of a centurythis man had been the curse of the young Republic--its direst, deadliestbane. For although his rule was not continuous, its evil effects were.Unfortunately, the demoralisation brought about by despotism extendsbeyond the reign or life of the despot; and Santa Anna had so debasedthe Mexican people, both socially and politically, as to render themunfitted for almost any form of constitutional government. They hadbecome incapable of distinguishing between the friends of freedom andits foes; and in the intervals of Liberal administration, because theMillennium did not immediately show itself, and make all rich,prosperous, and happy, they leaped to the conclusion that its failurewas due to the existing _regime_, making no account or allowance for thestill uncicatrised wounds of the body politic being the work of hiswicked predecessor.
This ignorance of political cause and effect is, alas! not aloneconfined to Mexico. There is enough of it in England, too, as in everyother nation. But in the earlier days of the Mexican Republic, thebaneful weed flourished with unusual vigour and rankness--to the benefitof Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, and the blight of his country. Deposedand banished so many times that their number is not easily remembered,he was ever brought back again--to the wonder of people then, and thepuzzle of historians yet. The explanation, however, is simple enough.He reigned through corruption that he had himself been instrumental increating; through militarism and an abominable _Chauvinism_--this lastas effective an instrument as the oppressor can wield. _Divide etimpera_ is a maxim of despotic state-craft, old as despotism itself;"flatter and rule" is a method equally sure, and such Santa Annapractised to its full. He let pass no opportunity of flattering thenational vanity, which brought the Mexican nation to shame, with muchhumiliation--as the French at a later period, and as it must everypeople that aims at no higher standard of honour than what may bederived from self-adulation.
At the time I am writing of, the chief of the Mexican Republic wasaiming at "Imperium"--eagerly straining for it. Its substance healready had, the "Libertas" having been long since eliminated from hissystem of government, and trodden under foot. But the title he had notacquired yet. He yearned to wear the purple, and be styled "Imperador,"and in order to prepare his subjects for the change, already kept a sortof Imperial court, surrounding it with grand ceremonials. As a matterof course, these partook of a military character, being himself not onlypolitical head of the State, but commander-in-chief of its armies. As aconsequence, _Palacio_, his official residence was beset withsoldier-guards, officers in gorgeous uniforms loitering about the gates,or going out and in, and in the Plaza Grande at all times exhibiting thespectacle of a veritable Champ de Mars. No one passing through theMexican metropolis at this period would have supposed it the chief cityof a Republic.
On that same day in which Carlos Santander had shown himself at theAcordada, only at an early hour, the would-be Emperor was seated in hisapartment of the palace in which he was wont to give audience toordinary visitors. He had got through the business affairs of themorning, dismissed his Ministers, and was alone, when one of theaides-de-camp in attendance entered with a card, and respectfullysaluting him, laid it on the table before him.
"Yes; say I can see him. Tell him to come in," he directed, soon asreading the name on the card.
In the door, on its second opening, appeared Carlos Santander, in theuniform of a colonel of Hussars, gold bedizened, and laced from collarto cuffs.
"Ah! Senor Don Carlos!" exclaimed the Dictator in a joyous, jocularway, "what's your affair? Coming to tell me of some fresh conquestyou've made among the _muchachas_? From your cheerful countenance Ishould say it's that."
"Excellentissimo!"
"Oh! you needn't deny, or look so demure about it. Well, you're a luckyfellow to be the lady killer I've heard say you are."
"Your Excellency, that's only say-say; I ought rather to call itslander. I've no ambition to be thought such a character. Quite thereverse, I assure you."
"If you could assure me, but you can't. I've had you long enough undermy eye to know better. Haven't I observed your little flirtations withquite half a score of our senoritas, among them a very charming younglady you met in Louisiana, if I mistake not?"
Saying this, he fixed his eyes on Santander's face in a searching,interrogative way, as though he himself felt more than a common interestin the charming young lady who had been met in Louisiana.
Avoiding his glance, as evading the question, the other rejoined--
"It is very good of your Excellency to take such interest in me, and I'mgrateful. But I protest--"
"Come, come! _amigo mio_! No protestations. 'Twould only be addingperjury to profligacy. Ha, ha, ha!"
And the grand dignitary leaned back in his chair, laughing. For it wasbut badinage, and he in no way intended lecturing the staff-colonel onhis morality, nor rebuking him for any backslidings. Instead, what cameafter could but encourage him in such wise, his chief continuing--
"Yes, Senor Don Carlos, I'm aware of your _amourettes_, for which I'mnot the man to be hard upon you. In that regard, I myself get thecredit--so rumour says--of living in a glass house, so I cannot safelythrow stones. Ha, ha!"
The tone of his laugh, with his self-satisfied look, told of his beingaught but angry with rumour for so representing him.
"Well, Excellentissimo," here put in the subordinate, "it don't muchsignify what the world says, so long as one's conscience is clear."
"_Bravo--bravissimo_!" exclaimed the Most Excellent. "Ha, ha, ha!" hecontinued, in still louder cachinnation. "Carlos Santander turnedmoralist! And moralising to me! It's enough to make a horse laugh.Ha, ha, ha!"
The staff-colonel appeared somewhat disconcerted, not knowing to whatall this might be tending. However, he ventured to remark--
"I am glad to find your Excellency in such good humour this morning."
"Ah! that's because you've come to ask some favour from me, I suppose."Santa Anna had a habit of interlarding his most familiar and friendlydiscourse with a little satire, sometimes very disagreeable to those heconversed with. "But never mind," he rattled on, "though I confess somesurprise at your hypocrisy, which is all thrown away upon me, _amigo_!I don't at all wonder at your success with the senoritas. You're ahandsome fellow, Don Carlos; and if it weren't for that scar on yourcheek--By the way, you never told me how you came by it. You hadn't itwhen you were last with us."
The red flushed into Santander's face, and up over his forehead to theroots of his hair. He had told no one in Mexico, nor anywhere else, howhe came by that ugly thing on his jaw, which beard could not conceal,and which he felt as a brand of Cain.
"It's a scar of a sword-cut, your Excellency. I got it in a duel."
"Ah! An honourable wound, then. But where?"
"In New Orleans."
"Just the place for that sort of thing, as I know, having been theremyself." (Santa Anna had made a tour of the States, on _parole_, afterthe battle of San Jacinto, where he was taken prisoner.) "A very den ofduellists is Nuevo Orleans; many of them _maitres d'escrime_. But whowas your antagonist? I hope you gave him as good as you got."
"I did, your Excellency; that, and more."
"You killed him?"
"Not quite. I would have done so, but that my second interposed, andpersuaded me to let him off."
"Well, he hasn't let you off, anyhow. What was the quarrel about?_Carrai_! I needn't ask; the old orthodox cause--a lady, of course?"
"Nay; for once your Excellency is in error. Our _desajio_ originated insomething quite different."
"What thing?"
"An endeavour on my part to do a service to Mexico and its honouredruler."
"Oh, indeed! In what way, Senor Colonel?"
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p; "That band of _filibusteros_, of which, as your Excellency willremember--"
"Yes--yes," interrupted Santa Anna impatiently. He evidently knew allabout that, and preferred hearing no more of it. "It was one of the_filibusteros_ you fought with, I suppose?"
"Yes, Excellentissimo; the one they chose for their captain."
"You were angry at his being preferred to yourself, and so called himout? Well, that was cause enough to a man of your mettle. But whatbecame of him afterwards? Was he among those at Mier?"
"He was."
"Killed there?"
"No, your Excellency; only taken prisoner."
"Shot at Salado?"
"Neither that, Excellentissimo."
"Then he must be here?"
"He is here, your Excellency."
"What's his name?"
"Kearney--Florence Kearney, _un Irlandes_."
A peculiar expression came over Santa Anna's features, a sort of knowinglook, as much as to say the name was not new to him. Nor was it. Thatvery morning, only an hour before, Don Ignacio Valverde had audience ofhim on a matter relating to this same man--Florence Kearney; in short,to obtain clemency for the young Irishman--full pardon, if possible.But the Minister had been dismissed with only vague promises. Hisinfluence at court was still not very great, and about the motive forhis application--as also who it originated from--Santa Anna hadconceived suspicions.
Of all this he said nothing to the man before him now, simplyinquiring--
"Is the _Irlandes_ at Tacubaya?"
"No, your Excellency; he's in the Acordada."
"Since you had the disposal of the Tejano prisoners, I can understandthat," returned the Dictator, with a significant shrug. "It's abouthim, then, you're here, I suppose. Well, what do you want?"
"Your authority, Excellentissimo, to punish him as he deserves."
"For making that tracing on your cheek, eh? You repent not havingpunished him more at the time when you yourself had the power? Isn't itso, Senor Colonel?"
Santander's face reddened, as he made reply--
"Not altogether, your Excellency. There's something besides, for whichhe deserves to be treated differently from the others."
Santa Anna could have given a close guess at what the exceptionalsomething was. To his subtle perception a little love drama wasgradually being disclosed; but he kept his thoughts to himself, with hiseyes still searchingly fixed on Santander's face.
"This Kearney," continued the latter, "though an Irishman, is one ofMexico's bitterest enemies, and especially bitter against yourExcellency. In a speech he made to the _filibusteros_, he called you ausurper, tyrant, traitor to liberty and your country--ay, even coward.Pardon me for repeating the vile epithets he made use of."
Santa Anna's eyes now scintillated with a lurid sinister light, as iffilled with fire, ready to blaze out. In the American newspapers he hadoften seen his name coupled with such opprobrious phrases, but neverwithout feeling savagely wrathful. And not the less that his own innateconsciousness told him it was all as said.
"_Chingara_!" he hissed out, for he was not above using this vulgarexclamation. "If it is true what you say, Don Carlos, as I presume itis, you can do as you like with this dog of an _Irlandes_! have himshot, or have him despatched by _La Garrota_, whichever seems best toyou. But no--stay! That won't do yet. There's a question about theseTejanos with the United States Minister; and as this Kearney is anIrishman, and so a British subject, the representative of that countrymay make trouble too. So till all this is settled, the _Irlandes_mustn't be either shot or garrotted. Instead, let him be treatedtenderly. You comprehend?"
The staff-colonel did comprehend; the emphasis on the "tenderly" made itimpossible for him to mistake the Dictator's meaning, which was just ashe desired it. As he passed out of the presence, and from the room, hiscountenance was lit up, or rather darkened, by an expression of fiendishtriumph. He now had it in his power to humiliate them who had sohumbled him.
"Quite a little comedy!" soliloquised Santa Anna, as the door closed onhis subordinate, "in which, before it's played out, I may myself take apart. She's a charming creature, this Senorita Valverde. But, ah!nothing to the Condesa. That woman--witch, devil, or whatever I maycall her--bids fair to do what woman never did--make a fool of Lopez deSanta Anna."