第 1 节
作者:南方网      更新:2021-02-19 00:19      字数:9322
  Remember the Alamo
  by Amelia E。 Barr
  CHAPTER I。
  THE CITY IN THE WILDERNESS。
  〃What; are you stepping westward?〃  〃Yea。〃
  *     *     *     *     *
  Yet who would stop or fear to advance;
  Though home or shelter there was none;
  With such a sky to lead him on!〃
  WORDSWORTH。
  〃Ah! cool night wind; tremulous stars;
  Ah! glimmering water;
  Fitful earth murmur;
  Dreaming woods!〃
  ARNOLD。
  In A。 D。 sixteen hundred and ninety…two; a few Franciscan
  monks began to build a city。  The site chosen was a lovely
  wilderness hundreds of miles away from civilization on every
  side; and surrounded by savage and warlike tribes。  But the
  spot was as beautiful as the garden of God。  It was shielded
  by picturesque mountains; watered by two rivers; carpeted with
  flowers innumerable; shaded by noble trees joyful with
  the notes of a multitude of singing birds。  To breathe the
  balmy atmosphere was to be conscious of some rarer and finer
  life; and the beauty of the sunny skiesmarvellous at dawn
  and eve with tints of saffron and amethyst and opalwas like
  a dream of heaven。
  One of the rivers was fed by a hundred springs situated in the
  midst of charming bowers。  The monks called it the San
  Antonio; and on its banks they built three noble Missions。
  The shining white stone of the neighborhood rose in graceful
  domes and spires above the green trees。  Sculptures; basso…
  relievos; and lines of gorgeous coloring adorned the
  exteriors。  Within; were splendid altars and the appealing
  charms of incense; fine vestures and fine music; while from
  the belfreys; bells sweet and resonant called to the savages;
  who paused spell…bound and half…afraid to listen。
  Certainly these priests had to fight as well as to pray。  The
  Indians did not suffer them to take possession of their Eden
  without passionate and practical protest。  But what the monks
  had taken; they kept; and the fort and the soldier followed
  the priest and the Cross。  Ere long; the beautiful Mission
  became a beautiful city; about which a sort of fame full of
  romance and mystery gathered。  Throughout the south and west;
  up the great highway of the Mississippi; on the busy streets
  of New York; and among the silent hills of New England; men
  spoke of San Antonio; as in the seventeenth century they spoke
  of Peru; as in the eighteenth century they spoke of Delhi; and
  Agra; and the Great Mogul。
  Sanguine French traders carried thither rich ventures in fancy
  wares from New Orleans; and Spanish dons from the wealthy
  cities of Central Mexico; and from the splendid homes of
  Chihuahua; came there to buy。  And from the villages of
  Connecticut; and the woods of Tennessee; and the lagoons of
  Mississippi; adventurous Americans entered the Texan territory
  at Nacogdoches。  They went through the land; buying horses and
  lending their ready rifles and stout hearts to every effort of
  that constantly increasing body of Texans; who; even in their
  swaddling bands; had begun to cry Freedom!
  At length this cry became a clamor that shook even the old
  viceroyal palace in Mexico; while in San Antonio it gave a
  certain pitch to all conversation; and made men wear their
  cloaks; and set their beavers; and display their arms; with
  that demonstrative air of independence they called los
  Americano。  For; though the Americans were numerically few;
  they were like the pinch of salt in a pottagethey gave the
  snap and savor to the whole community。
  Over this Franciscan…Moorish city the sun set with an
  incomparable glory one evening in May; eighteen thirty…five。
  The white; flat…roofed; terraced houseseach one in its
  flowery courtand the domes and spires of the Missions; with
  their gilded crosses; had a mirage…like beauty in the rare;
  soft atmosphere; as if a dream of Old Spain had been
  materialized in a wilderness of the New World。
  But human life in all its essentials was in San Antonio; as it
  was and has been in all other cities since the world began。
  Women were in their homes; dressing and cooking; nursing their
  children and dreaming of their lovers。  Men were in the
  market…places; buying and selling; talking of politics and
  anticipating war。  And yet in spite of these fixed
  attributes; San Antonio was a city penetrated with romantic
  elements; and constantly picturesque。
  On this evening; as the hour of the Angelus approached; the
  narrow streets and the great squares were crowded with a
  humanity that assaulted and captured the senses at once; so
  vivid and so various were its component parts。  A tall sinewy
  American with a rifle across his shoulder was paying some
  money to a Mexican in blue velvet and red silk; whose breast
  was covered with little silver images of his favorite saints。
  A party of Mexican officers were strolling to the Alamo; some
  in white linen and scarlet sashes; others glittering with
  color and golden ornaments。  Side by side with these were
  monks of various orders: the Franciscan in his blue gown and
  large white hat; the Capuchin in his brown serge; the Brother
  of Mercy in his white flowing robes。  Add to these
  diversities; Indian peons in ancient sandals; women dressed as
  in the days of Cortez and Pizarro; Mexican vendors of every
  kind; Jewish traders; negro servants; rancheros curvetting on
  their horses; Apache and Comanche braves on spying
  expeditions: and; in this various crowd; yet by no means of
  it; small groups of Americans; watchful; silent; armed to the
  teeth: and the mind may catch a glimpse of what the streets of
  San Antonio were in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and
  thirty…five。
  It was just before sunset that the city was always at its
  gayest point。  Yet; at the first toll of the Angelus; a
  silence like that of enchantment fell upon it。  As a mother
  cries hush to a noisy child; so the angel of the city seemed
  in this evening bell to bespeak a minute for holy thought。  It
  was only a minute; for with the last note there was even an
  access of tumult。  The doors and windows of the better houses
  were thrown open; ladies began to appear on the balconies;
  there was a sound of laughter and merry greetings; and the
  tiny cloud of the cigarette in every direction。
  But amid this sunset glamour of splendid color; of velvet; and
  silk; and gold embroidery; the man who would have certainly
  first attracted a stranger's eye wore the plain and ugly
  costume common at that day to all American gentlemen。  Only
  black cloth and white linen and a row palmetto hat with a
  black ribbon around it; but he wore his simple garments with
  the air of a man having authority; and he returned the
  continual salutations of rich and poor; like one who had been
  long familiar with public appreciation。
  It was Dr。 Robert Worth; a physician whose fame had penetrated
  to the utmost boundaries of the territories of New Spain。  He
  had been twenty…seven years in San Antonio。  He was a familiar
  friend in every home。  In sickness and in death he had come
  close to the hearts in them。  Protected at first by the
  powerful Urrea family; he had found it easy to retain his
  nationality; and yet live down envy and suspicion。  The rich
  had shown him their gratitude with gold; the poor he had never
  sent unrelieved away; and they had given him their love。
  When in the second year of his residence he married Dona Maria
  Flores; he gave; even to doubtful officials; security for his
  political intentions。  And his future conduct had seemed to
  warrant their fullest confidence。  In those never ceasing
  American invasions between eighteen hundred and three and
  eighteen hundred and thirty…two; he had been the friend and
  succourer of his countrymen; but never their confederate;
  their adviser; but never their confidant。
  He was a tall; muscular man of a distinguished appearance。
  His hair was white。  His face was handsome and good to see。
  He was laconic in speech; but his eyes were closely observant
  of all within their range; and they asked searching questions。
  He had a reverent soul; wisely tolerant as to creeds; and he
  loved his country with a passion which absence from it
  constantly intensified。  He was believed to be a thoroughly
  practical man; fond of accumulating land and gold; but his
  daughter Antonia knew that he had in reality a noble
  imagination。  When he spoke to her of the woods; she felt the
  echoes of the forest ring through the room; when of the sea;
  its walls melted away in an horizon of long rolling waves。
  He was thinking of Antonia as he walked slowly to his home in
  the suburbs of the city。  Of all his children she was the
  nearest to him。  She had his mother's beauty。  She had also
  his mother's upright rectitude of nature。  The Iberian
  strain had passed her absolutely by。  She was a northern rose
  in a tropical garden。  As he drew near to his own gates; he
  involuntarily quickened his steps。  He knew that Antonia would
  be waiting。  He could see among the thick flowering shrubs her
  tall slim figure clothed in white。  As she came swiftly down
  the dim aisles to meet him; he felt a sentiment of worship for
  her。  She concentrated in herself his mem