The Splendid Idle Forties: Stories of Old CaliforniaAtherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
History
The Splendid Idle Forties: Stories of Old California
Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
California -- History -- To 1846 -- Fiction; Historical fiction, American; Spaniards -- California -- Fiction
Doña Eustaquia might watch with joy her bay open and engulf the hated
Americans, but she would nurse back to life the undrowned bodies flung
upon the shore. If she had been born a queen she would have slain in
anger, but she would not have tortured. General Castro had flung his hat
at her feet many times, and told her that she was born to command. Even
the nervous irregularity of her step to-day could not affect the extreme
elegance of her carriage, and she carried her small head with the
imperious pride of a sovereign. She did not speak again for a moment,
but as she passed the group of young men at the end of the room her eyes
flashed from one languid face to another. She hated their rich breeches
and embroidered jackets buttoned with silver and gold, the lace
handkerchiefs knotted about their shapely throats. No man was a man who
did not wear a uniform.
Don Fernando regarded her with a mischievous smile as she approached him
a second time.
"I predict, also," he said, "I predict that our charming Doña Eustaquia
will yet wed an American--"
"What!" she turned upon him with the fury of a lioness. "Hold thy
prating tongue! I marry an American? God! I would give every league of
my ranchos for a necklace made from the ears of twenty Americans. I
would throw my jewels to the pigs, if I could feel here upon my neck
the proof that twenty American heads looked ready to be fired from the
cannon on the hill!"
Everybody in the room laughed, and the atmosphere felt lighter. Muslin
gowns began to flutter, and the seal of disquiet sat less heavily upon
careworn or beautiful faces. But before the respite was a moment old a
young man entered hastily from the street, and throwing his hat on the
floor burst into tears.
"What is it?" The words came mechanically from every one in the room.
The herald put his hand to his throat to control the swelling muscles.
"Two hours ago," he said, "Commander Sloat sent one Captain William
Mervine on shore to demand of our Commandante the surrender of the town.
Don Mariano walked the floor, wringing his hands, until a quarter of an
hour ago, when he sent word to the insolent servant of a pirate-republic
that he had no authority to deliver up the capital, and bade him go to
San Juan Bautista and confer with General Castro. Whereupon the American
thief ordered two hundred and fifty of his men to embark in boats--do
not you hear?"
A mighty cheer shook the air amidst the thunder of cannon; then another,
and another.
Every lip in the room was white.
"What is that?" asked Doña Eustaquia. Her voice was hardly audible.
"They have raised the American flag upon the Custom-house," said the
herald.
For a moment no one moved; then as by one impulse, and without a word,
Doña Modeste Castro and her guests rose and ran through the streets to
the Custom-house on the edge of the town.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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