A MEXICAN REBEL

New Zealand Tablet, 25 February 1915, Page 7

A MEXICAN REBEL

Towards evening a tall and handsome man, dressed like a rebel officer, but not bearing any arms, was directing his steps toward the rebel camp, situated then at about ten , miles from X, the city he had just left. His business was doubtless’ of an urgent nature, since he continued to walk even when the night overtook him on the lonely road. V The rebel encampment toward which he was going was a large one, and the officer in command, General Rodriguez was famous not only by reason of the many victories he had gained over the Federals, ‘ but also because of his severity toward his soldiers and his cruelty toward prisoners. All feared him, and his name was whispered with awe in many homes. The Constitutionalists had been stationed around X for about a week or two and were soon to move southward. This was known to the stranger and was the cause of his haste. ‘ I must see the General before they strike tents/ he was muttering between his nervous strides, when suddenly out of the darkness ahead of him came a sharp ‘ Quien vive ‘ A friend,’ he answered. Halt, or you will be shot,’ was the reply. The stranger had stopped already. Through the gloom of the night he could scarcely distinguish the trees, and the mountain road was almost completely "hidden. Ho had been told that the rebel camp was on the western slope of the mountain and he had directed his steps thither, but did not expect to encounter the pickets so soon. Three armed men approached him and asked him where he was going, who he was, and what he wanted. The stranger told them he was a gentleman of a neighboring town, on his way to their camp, where he- hoped to find their chief, whom he must see on important business. ‘ All right,’ they said, ‘we will bring you to him, but if he is asleep you will have to remain the whole night as a prisoner of war.’ The stranger made no protest, and so was led forward, with an armed soldier on either side of him. They walked together for about ‘ a quarter of an hour, meeting now and then sentinels on duty, who, on receiving the watchword, let them pass, and finally, after marching through a long line of tents, they reached a small house guarded by several armed men. The stranger was told that the general had not yet retired, and after a short time was shown in. Like many of his colleagues, the general was a young man; his eyes, his gait, his whole bearing, bespoke his Spanish descent. He asked the stranger his name, and oil hearing it seemed to start. . The stranger explained the reason of his visit. A young man who was working in a hacienda not far away had been forced by his (the general’s) soldiers to join the rebel army, and as he was the only support of a large family, the visitor had come to ask for his release. On leaving the town for the rebel camp the stranger had been warned that it was very difficult to secure such a favor as he was going to ask. Great, then, was his surprise and joy when the general not only granted his petition, but offered him two horses, one for himself and another for the young man, and placed at the visitor’s disposal for the night his own quarters. V The stranger thanked the general for his kindness, and was about to leave him, when, to his great surprise, he was asked to follow his host into another room. ’ When man of war uncovered his head and, kissing the right

there, after 'having locked the doth with greit care, the hand of his 'guest, said: ‘Father, it is useless for you to hide-yourself under such clothes as you are wearing now; you are Father Tapia;, you taught me seven years ago in old-Puebla. Do you not remember me?' :£;■ ‘I do not,’ answered the other. ‘ Your name is •Rodriguez, and I do not remember having had a pupil of that name in all my life as a professor.’ The general smiled. ‘ X know I can trust you,’ he said. ‘ Rodriguez is not my name. lam John Bernal.’ ‘You, John the priest exclaimed. ‘And you, one of my best boys, have become the sanguinary Rodriguez ’ ‘ Sanguinary,’ came the sad reply. ‘ How many are the crimes imputed to me which I never knew of? Still, let it pass. I became the sanguinary General Rodriguez in a very simple way. I joined the Constitutionalist revolution at the very beginning, thinking I was right in doing so. My superior education, my courage, my will power have done the rest. • After a few months I have found myself at the head of a thousand men with the title of general.’ ‘ And are you happy?’ asked the old professor. ‘Happy?’ he answered. ‘I was happy at the beginning of the revolution. I thought we were fighting for a good cause. I thought we were right. But when I saw the predatory instinct of my soldiers ; when I saw justice and chastity and religion trampled under foot ; when I saw that we were more like bandits than soldiers of liberty, I began to grow weary of this life and think of leaving it.’ ‘ Why do you not leave it?’ ‘ Leave it ? How can I ? As long as I lead my soldiers against the enemy or to plunder I am obeyed as never general was obeyed, and I can dispose of my soldiers’ lives as I can of my pocket money. But were I to give any sign of being remiss in the cause I am fighting for ; were I to show any disgust for it, God only knows what the consequences might be. A few weeks ago a lifelong friend of mine, Januarius Caso y Lara, the one who was so lively and so studious in our old class, -was shot simply because he disapproved the burning of the houses of innocent people. And Black, the Yankee filibuster, who has brought so much sorrow to many a Mexican home by his sword and his lust, killed one of his lieutenants because he had delayed for a few minutes the execution of several Federal soldiers. Father, we are bandits, that’s all, and I am tired of it. It is indeed inspiring to fight against the enemy of one’s country or of one’s liberties, but to fight against brothers, and not in the interests of a noble cause, but for thirst of plunder and power is unbearable. I am tired of it all.’ ‘ Poor John,’ said the priest, soothingly. ‘ How I pity you. Would that I could do something to relieve your distressed soul. But, tell me, do you ever think of your religion ? How happy you were when you were faithful to it.’ ‘ How often have I thought of that, Father ! At times, after a boisterous victory or a hurried flight, when all was hushed and still in the camp, while my soldiers were heavily sleeping, tired to death, or drunk, sitting under my tent or by the window of some lonely house, I remembered the beautiful days of yore, and I wished I could be a good Christian again. But with the rising sun and the bustle of the day the good thoughts faded away, leaving behind them nought but painful remorse.’ , ‘ John,’ said the priest, what hinders you from ■being reconciled with God? You know that I am a pridst, and a priest, even under the disguise of a rebel officer, has power to forgive sins. Come, John, do as you often did in those happy college days. • Kneel down and make a good confession.’ Not now, Father,’ he replied, not now. Ido not feel that lam well prepared for it. It is not the number of my sins that frightens me. I have ordered the shooting of Federal spies and of unruly prisoners,

but I was forced to do so. At times I have led my men to plunder, but I could not help it and I tried to restrain them as much as I could. • I do hot think. I have more sins than these, but I do not feel prepared for confession, nor have I as yet sufficient strength to leave this life of mine. Father, to-morrow I will have another talk with you; now please go to rest. Do not be afraid of sleeping here; nobody will dare to harm the general’s guest.’ He spoke, and without giving his old teacher any time to answer, called one of his officers and told him to accompany the visitor to his room. So they separated. . . Father Tapia knew not how long he slept that night. The only thing he knew was that after his interview with the general he prayed for a long, long time, begging the ’Lord to finish his work by completing John’s conversion. Sleep overtook him during his prayer. It was morning when the firing of many guns awoke him. At about 300 yards’ distance from the house where he was located fighting was going on. It lasted only a few minutes; a scouting party of Federals, about twenty in number, had suddenly approached the camp. They were easily put to flight by the rebels, who were already beginning to exult over their easily gained victory when their joy was changed into sorrow. There on the ground lay their general. He, the bravest of them all, had been the first to meet the Federals, and had received a mortal wound. Taking advantage of the momentary consternation of officers and men, Father Tapia mingled with the crowd that pressed around their leader, whose life blood was ebbing fast, and at last succeeded in approaching the prostrate form of his onetime pupil. Opening his eyes, he looked up at his teacher, and summoning all his remaining strength faintly whispered a single word which was meant for him alone. The tone of penitence in which the word was uttered brought a flood of joy to the priest’s heart, who, with tears of gratitude to God, breathed in the general’s ear , the sacramental words which restored the prodigal son to his Maker. A few hours later Father Tapia was galloping with the young man he had delivered from the rebels away from the camp towards X.— Joseph M. Sorrentino, S.J., in the Pilgrim.