Part 33 (1/2)
The deed was done; and Santa Anna, the mighty chief who mowed down four hundred unarmed men, was immortalized! Fear not, brave heart, that posterity will forget thee! Rest a.s.sured that the lapse of time cannot obliterate the memory of thy mighty deeds!
Fanning survived but a few hours, and then a well-aimed ball laid low forever his n.o.ble head. Who among us can calmly remember that his body was denied a burial? Oh, thou martyr leader of a martyr band, we cherish thy memory! dear to the heart of every Texan, every American, every soldier, and every patriot. Peace to thee, n.o.ble Fanning! and may the purest joys of heaven be yours in that eternity to which we all are hastening.
It was noon! Still and cold lay the four hundred forms upon the Plaza.
Even as they sank, so they slept. No disturbing hand had misplaced one stiffened member. The silence of death reigned around the murdered band. A m.u.f.fled figure swiftly stole down the now deserted streets, and hurrying to the Plaza, paused and gazed on the ruin and wreck that surrounded her. Pools of blood were yet standing, and the earth was damp with gore. One by one Inez turned the motionless forms, still the face she sought was not to be found. She had almost concluded her search, when her eye fell on a prostrate form, closely wrapt in a long black cloak; she knelt and gazed into the upturned face, and a low cry of bitter anguish welled up and pa.s.sed her colorless lips. Gently she lifted the cloak, clasped by one icy hand: the ball had pierced his side, and entered the heart. So instantaneous had been his death that not a feature was convulsed. The dark cl.u.s.tering hair was borne back from the broad white brow, the eyes closed as in deep sleep, the finely-cut lips just parted. Pallid was the cheek, yet calm and n.o.ble beyond degree was the marble face on which Inez gazed. She caught the cold hand to her lips, and laid her cheek near his mouth, that she might know and realize that his spirit had indeed joined Mary's in the ”land of rest.” The icy touch extinguished every gleam of hope, and calmly she drew the cloak over the loved face, concealing every feature, then dropped her handkerchief upon the covered head, and drawing her mantilla like a shroud about her, went her way to wait for night and darkness.
Stretched on a couch in the home of the kind-hearted Senora who had received her, Inez noted the moments and hours as they pa.s.sed. An eternity seemed comprised in the time which elapsed from noon till dusk. Again and again she raised her bowed head, and looked out on the slowly sinking sun. It pa.s.sed at length beyond her vision. She rose and sought her friend, an aged dame, whom G.o.d had gifted with a gentle heart, keenly alive to the grief and sufferings of another.
”Well, Senorita Inez, what will you have?”
”I have a great favor to ask, yet it is one I doubt not will be granted. Senora, among yonder slain is one who in life was ever kind to me and to our people. Since morning he has lain in his own blood!
To-morrow will see them thrown into heaps, and left with scarce sod enough to cover! I cannot, will not see him buried so! I myself will lay him down to rest, if Santa Anna claims my life for it to-morrow!
I have caused a grave to be dug in a quiet spot, but I cannot bear him to it una.s.sisted. My strength is gone--I am well-nigh spent: will you help me to-night? They will not miss him to-morrow, and none will know till all is at rest! Senora, will you come with me?”
”Tell me first, Inez, if it is he who brought you here; who acted so n.o.bly to me, and bade adieu to you but two days since?”
”Yes, the same! will you refuse to a.s.sist me now?”
”No, by our blessed Virgin! I will do all an old woman like me can do; yet united, Inez, we shall be strong.”
Wrapping their mantillas about them, they noiselessly proceeded to the Plaza. Darkness had closed in, and happily they met not even a straggling soldier, for all, with instinctive dread, shunned the horrid scene. They paused as Senora Berara stumbled over a dead body, and well-nigh slipped in blood:
”Jesu Maria! my very bones ache with horror! this is no place for me.
Senorita, how will you know the body? Oh! let us make haste to leave here!”
”Hus.h.!.+ do you see a white spot gleaming yonder? Nay, don't clutch my arm, it is only my handerchief. I laid it there to mark the place.
Come on, step lightly, or you will press the dead.”
With some difficulty they made their way along the damp, slippery ground, now and then catching at each other for support. Inez paused on reaching her mark, and bent down for several moments; then raising herself she whispered:
”Senora, I have wrapped his cloak tightly about him, lift the corners near his feet, while I carry his head. Be careful, lift gently, and do not let the cloak slip.”
Slowly they lifted the motionless form, and steadily bore it away: Inez taking the lead, and stepping cautiously. She left the Plaza and princ.i.p.al streets, and turned toward a broad desolate waste, stretching away from the town, and bare, save a few gnarled oaks that moaned in the March wind. The moon rose when they had proceeded some distance beyond the last house, and Inez paused suddenly, and looked anxiously about her.
”Sacra Dio! I trust you have not lost your way! Holy Mother, preserve us if we have gone wrong.”
”I knew we must be near the place: it is under yonder tree; fear nothing Senora, come on:” and a few more steps brought them to the designated spot.
A shallow excavation had been made, sufficient to admit with ease the body of a full-grown man; and on its margin they softly laid their burden down. Every object shone in the clear moonlight, and stranger scene never moon shone upon. A dreary waste stretched away in the distance, and sighingly the wind swept over it. Inez knelt beside the grave, her wan yet still beautiful features convulsed with the secret agony of her tortured soul; the long raven hair floating like a black veil around the wasted form. Just before her stood the old woman, weird-like, her wrinkled, swarthy face exposed to full view, while the silver hair, unbound by her exertion, streamed in the night breeze.
Loosely her clothes hung about her, and the thin, bony hands were clasped tightly as she bent forward and gazed on the marble face of the dead. Wonder, awe, fear, pity, all strangely blended in her dark countenance.
Inez groaned, and rocked herself to and fro, as if crushed in body and spirit. She could not lay him to rest forever without the bitterest anguish, for in life she had wors.h.i.+ped him, and in death her heart clung to the loved form. Again and again she kissed the cold hand she held.
”Senorita, we must make haste to lay him in, and cover him closely.
Don't waste time weeping now; you cannot give him life again. Have done, Senorita Inez, and let us finish our work.”