Michener, James A. (63 page)

galloped across the countryside. He was an Indian chasing buffalo, a Tennesseean shooting a deer, a Mexican about to rope a longhorn. When he returned to camp he saw Garza and realized how much he owed him. Riding up to the Mexican, he dismounted, grasped his hand, and said: 'You are my friend.'

Few lads of Otto's age would understand Texas as thoroughly as he. By the time they crossed the Sabine River into Louisiana he had been pretty well across the face of settled Texas, save for the Nacogdoches quarter; he knew most of the ferries where boats could be relied upon, most of the river crossings that could be negotiated on foot. He had stopped in most of the semi-formal inns, and his knowledge of horses, cattle and the Spanish language would make him an invaluable ranch hand, or owner when he had acquired enough money to start for himself.

New Orleans had a magical effect on Finlay Macnab, for the excitement of selling his animals, the bantering of the buyers and the good fellowship of the stockyards reminded him of those faraway days at the Falkirk Tryst when he discovered the kind of person he was, and he hoped that here his son might have the same kind of awakening: 'When I wasn't much older than you I drove my grandfather's cattle to a great fair . . . and sold them, too. That was the beginning of my real life. This could be the same for you. Study New Orleans. Learn how men do things.'

Otto's instruction took a rewarding turn when Mr. Ferry, pleased by the good condition of their cattle and mules, came by their hotel to invite them to dinner at one of the fine French eating places. As an afterthought he tossed a handful of coins toward the three Mexicans: 'Get yourselves something.' Otto did] not linger to see the bitterness with which Benito scorned theij coins, letting them fall to the floor, or the furious manner in whichf he forbade his helpers to pick them up. 'Let the maids have them,' he stormed.

When Otto saw the luxurious dining room with its high ceilings and glittering lights, he said enthusiastically: 'This must be awful expensive,' and Ferry laughed: 'On the profit I'll make from your animals, I can afford it. I ship your mules to Uncle Sam's army and sell your beef to the riverboats and restaurants like this. Young man, tonight you'll feast upon one of your own longhorns.'

Otto was old enough to relish good food, and hungry enough after the frontier fare of Texas to appreciate a varied menu. In fact, he considered New Orleans to be about six levels better than Cincinnati and said so, to Mr. Ferry's approval. But as he gorged on the excellent food he could not help picturing Benito Garza

eating in some grubby hole, and he winced as he recalled the niggardly manner in which Mr. Ferry had thrown the coins.

Two days later, while walking the streets, Otto came upon an auction house where consignments of slaves from Virginia and the Carolinas were being sold, and he followed the action with great interest, trying to guess which of two or three competing bidders would stay the course and win this lot or that. When he heard that one would-be purchaser intended taking his slaves, if he succeeded in buying any, to Texas, he approached the'man and warned him: 'You know, mister, that slaves are not allowed in Texas.'

This news so startled both the buyer and the men near him that a vigorous discussion occurred, marked by a ridiculous lack of expert opinion, until in the end Otto had to inform the men of the situation. They refused to believe such a mere boy, but an elderly man well versed on the question came to Otto's defense and stated firmly that Mexican law forbade slavery and the importation of slaves.

Then, by God, we'll change the law!' one hothead shouted, and this brought cheers.

'In five years Texas will be American!' More cheers.

'I'll march to Texas and so will a hundred brave lads like me,' another cried, but when this display ended, the would-be purchaser still did not know how to proceed, and Otto quietly explained ninety-nine-year indentures, and the man was delighted. 'What a thoroughly sensible solution!' And forthwith he bid high on six different lots.

Mr. Ferry introduced Macnab to the convenience of letters-of-credit and suggested that he might like to avail himself of one, but Finlay, having been burned by the skilled salesmen of the Texas Land and Improvement Company, did not propose to be horn-swoggled again, and said so.

Ferry laughed at his fears but at the same time recognized his prudence: 'Goodness! I don't mean a letter-of-credit on me. I might skedaddle at any moment. No, I mean a letter on the firmest bank in the South,' and he took Finlay to the offices of the famous Louisiana and Southern States banking house, where the manager said he would be honored to accommodate any client of Mr. Ferry's.

On the spur of the moment Finlay did a most uncharacteristic thing. He was so encouraged by the success of his droving operation, and so titillated at sitting in the offices of a major bank, with every prospect of sitting there more often in the future, that he decided it would be only decent to share his good fortune with his daughters back in Baltimore, and he asked the New Orleans

banker if he could convey half his funds to a bank in Baltimore for the account of the Misses Macnab.

'Easiest thing in the world, Mr. Macnab. It can be done at once.'

So it was arranged, and Macnab felt pleased with himself because of his generosity. He then asked how his and Zave's funds could best be handled: Td rather not carry them on my person, seeing that pickpockets infest the steamers.'

'Easiest thing in the world,' the banker repeated. 'Leave your money on deposit with us, earn a tidy interest, and when either j you or Campbell requires a load of timber for building a new house, inform me by ship mail, and your good friend Mr. Ferry will have it on board the next vessel to Galveston Bay.'

'It won't do us much good at Galveston, seeing as we live near j Matagorda.' The banker chuckled and said that one of these days he must get down to Texas, for he was convinced it was bound to be a major trading center of the American Union.

it's owned by Mexico, you know,' Macnab said.

'At the moment,' the banker said, and wherever Finlay moved in New Orleans he found this same attitude toward Texas, as if the Louisiana men sensed that their western neighbor must soon become a part of the United States. '

The closing days of their visit were marred by the Discovery that Benito Garza and his two relatives had quit the expedition; for three days the Macnabs tried to find them, learning only that Benito, cursing Ferry, had summoned his two cousins and ridden back to Texas. There was much castigation of the Mexicans, but when the Macnabs were alone, Otto said: 'Remember when Mr. Ferry threw the money at them? As if they weren't good enough to eat with us? I don't blame Benito for getting mad.'

When the Macnabs returned to Victoria, Finlay sought out Benito and said: 'I'm sorry for the way Mr. Ferry treated you,' and Garza snarled: 'Gringos. What can you expect?'

Since most of the Macnab horses had been taken to New Orleans, Zave had replaced them, but Otto noticed that several bore strange brands, and later two of De Leon's men took the boy aside and warned him: 'Your friend Senor Campbell, he better watch out. The anglos in this area are fed up with his thieving ways, and something bad will happen to him if he does not mend them.' When Otto, refusing to hear ill of his friend, protested that maybe it was Benito Garza who took horses with other brands, the men said: 'We're watching him, too.'

Otto felt it necessary to warn his father, and Finlay took it

seriously, but when he confronted Zave, the big Kaintuck turned the tables by upbraiding him for not having brought home Zave's share of the profits: 'Somehow you made a deal with Ferry that does you good but not me.' When Macnab tried to explain what a deposit in a bank meant, and how it drew interest, the stubborn redhead could not follow and loudly accused his friend of chicanery.

This so irritated Macnab, who understood the facts but could not explain them over Zave's shouting, that in anger he informed Campbell that he and Otto would build their own house. 'Good riddance!' Zave yelled, but Otto cried that he would not permit this, for he had grown to love big, compassionate Maria and could not visualize life without her. Josefina was equally good, quite a wonderful mother, but Maria had come first and he saw her as the architect of his good fortunes. When he flatly refused to part from her, the shouting stopped and the breach was healed.

Thus began a perplexity which would haunt him all his life, and haunt Texas; he loved Mexicans like Maria and instinctively respected their values, so vastly different from his own. He saw that such Mexicans led an easy, singsong life, in harmony with the birds and the rising sun, while Texicans like his father lived a tense one in which cattle had to be counted and delivered on time. Maria followed the easy traditions of Catholicism, in which saints and the Virgin Mary were as real as the people who lived on the next hacienda; he would always be a Presbyterian, with that religion's harsh commands and unforgiving penalties. She sang, but he brooded; even at age eleven he brooded. To her the family was everything; to him it had proved only a shadowy remembrance. She could forgive a fellow Mexican like her brother Benito his misdemeanors; Otto could forgive no one.

And there his ambivalence deepened. He saw that American immigrants often conceded that Maria's way of life had commendable aspects; certainly it was more relaxed and in many ways gentler and more humane, as in its care for elderly members of a family; but often some relative like Benito performed an act which should not have been tolerated. Otto heard Mexican men accused of being shifty, unreliable, sycophantic when controlled by others, cruel when they were masters, so that what were deemed Maria's virtues became flaws when Benito displayed them. For example, Otto had seen Benito excuse his fellow Mexicans for the grossest misbehavior and even encourage it if it helped them gain an advantage over some anglo. Otto heard his own father charge: 'Mexican men allow themselves to be priest-ridden. They drag their church into areas where it isn't needed. Like their unstable

government, Mexican men can never settle upon one course of action and follow it for a generation; even the slightest mishap diverts them. So revolution is always around the corner.' Reluctantly, the Macnabs concluded that Benito Garza, specifically, was not a very nice person, and they concluded that the chances for his living in harmony with the immigrating Americans were not good.

Otto was not yet mature enough to understand that the incoming settlers demanded that Benito behave like an American, while he and his fellow Mexicans, occupants of Texas for a century, expected the Texicans to behave like Mexicans. It was an impasse that would never be resolved, but Otto was old enough to perceive the most fundamental contradiction of all. He, like Texas itself, needed the Mexicans and often loved them, but he did not always like them.

Several months after the Macnabs returned home, a much more serious problem evolved from Finlay's impulsive generosity in the New Orleans bank, because when the Baltimore bank informed Mrs. Berthe Macnab that a substantial sum of money had been forwarded to her daughters by their father in Texas, she interpreted this as a signal of reconciliation. She was tired of living alone, and like scores of other abandoned wives in the settled states, she convinced herself that her husband in Texas needed her. With a vigor and determination that astonished her Baltimore friends, she arranged for a sea voyage to New Orleans and a Gulf trip to Victoria.

Consequently, one autumn day in 1833 a horseman rode out to the Campbell posada when the men were away, bringing news that 'A lady calling herself Mrs. Macnab, she's landed at Linnville, and she wants us to bring her here.' Very quietly Otto closed the door so that Josefina would not hear, then asked: 'What does she want?' and the messenger said: 'She told me she has come to join her husband.' WTien Otto said nothing, the man asked, with a jerk of his thumb toward the room in which Josefina was singing: 'And what about that one?'

Otto considered this carefully, and slowly two reactions began to form. With his real mother at hand, and not in distant Baltimore, he recovered a most positive image of her: it was daybreak and she was bringing him a bowl of hot porridge rich with butter, cream and sugar. She had been a kind mother and he remembered how he had grieved when forced to leave her. But her shadowy portrait was erased by the thought of Maria, the wonderful Mexican woman whom he had adopted and whom he loved so dearly

and in a different way. Desperately he wanted to protect her and her sister from sorrow of any kind.

Accordingly, without saying a word to anyone, he took his horse and accompanied the messenger back to Victoria, where he intercepted his unwelcome mother at the general store, to which she had been delivered. To his amazement he found that his two sisters, striking blondes in their late teens, had accompanied her, and that disoriented him. But he barged ahead, and when his mother sought to embrace him, he held back. 'You must go home,' he said.

'This is to be our home, Otto. We were wrong when we sent you and Father away.'

'You didn't send us. We went.'

This brought sniffles, and she groped for her handkerchief, but Otto was not moved: 'You must go back, because there's no place for you here.'

'You and your father need me, Otto. The girls and I have come all this way to help.'

'Texas is a different place,' the boy said.

'I know. We were warned on the boat.'

'You won't like Texas.' His harshness now brought tears to his sisters, and when he saw these attractive girls weeping he grew ashamed of himself.

'Take them out to the farm,' one of the men in the shabby store said, and when Otto asked: 'How can I?' the man said: 'She has to know sooner or later.' Mrs. Macnab asked: 'Know what?' and the man replied: 'Lady, you'll find out soon enough.'

The only wagon in Victoria was procured, and Otto, aware that disaster loomed, was determined to avoid involvement with these unwelcome relatives. Riding in front of the procession like a page leading ladies to a castle, he refused to talk with them, and when the entourage approached the dog-run, he rode ahead, shouting: 'Hey, Poppa!'