Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  Later that same month, Don Federico and El Guapo James were summoned to attend a dinner held by Obregón from the Carranzistas, to try to reach an agreement between the two fighting groups. From the Villistas, General José Rodriguez was in attendance. It took place at the new Pharr Hotel in Pharr, Texas, but the fiesta to celebrate a compromise became a tense meeting, where each minute was carefully scrutinized. The Don helped translate from the slanted and indignant words being used, trying to keep the language civil.

  The building was filled with Villistas and Carranzistas fighters, each wearing ammo belts across their chests and pistols inside their jackets. The arsenal of ammunition hanging from their bodies could have blown the building to kingdom come. From outside, the opposing forces were being carefully watched. Several spies, sheriffs, and federal government men could be seen hanging around the building. Afterward, the telegraph lines were humming fast and furious, as reports were sent to Brownsville.

  This was James's first assignment, and his eagerness and sense of humor had turned to nervousness. He commented later as they drove back to Mercedes, "Man! I'm glad that's over! I felt like the whole place was going to blow up at any minute!"

  Don Federico laughed. "And that's living here in Texas! Just wait 'til we travel into Mexico. Then, we really have to watch out for ourselves. We'll have to carry our pistolas."

  A skirmish between the Carranzistas and Villa's men took place at the small town of Las Rucias, west of Brownsville. Several wounded Villistas soldiers crossed the border. Many of the alarmed American citizens at Fort Brown cared for the sick men, who were later turned over to the Villistas at Laredo. One of the dead was General Navarro, one of Pancho Villa's favorite commanders and a faithful friend.

  April 1915 brought more rumors of conspiracy. Huerta had returned from Europe and landed in New York City, traveled to Dallas, and disappeared. He ended up secretly staying in Matamoros and had been seen with several Germans, possibly making plans. He had also been sighted with General Nafarrate and another mysterious man known for his military tactics. It was also in April that Pancho Villa was defeated in two decisive battles, leaving him a desperate marauder in the Chihuahua Sierra Mountains.

  As for Ricardo, he had been spending most of his time in Brownsville seeing about the shipments of crude oil being delivered to the large ships headed for Houston. Everyone agreed he seemed to be acting strange when he returned to Mercedes.

  A series of raids began to occur along the Rio Grande River, with ranchers claiming that horses, cattle, and goats were being stolen. They were suggesting that something terrible was pending and became very frightened. Strange happenings were underway as mysterious riders rode through the brasada at night. There were no explanations as to what their activities were. The natives locked their doors, and at dusk, they would not turn their lanterns on, or light their fires. Those who had money, silver, and gold coins began burying it in trunks and tin cans in certain areas around their property, with favorite places being the fireplace or under a loose board on the floor.

  People were afraid and built houses with high, brick and cement fences for protection. Some incorporated barbed wire or broken pieces of glass bottles atop their fences, as a defensive device.

  In early May, off the coast of Ireland, the passenger liner Lusitania was torpedoed by the Germans. Many prominent Americans were killed, and still, President Wilson would not commit the country to war. The incident created increasing nervousness among the people living along the coastline.

  The local newspapers criticized the federal courts in Brownsville by relating that the scary and menacing Basilio Ramos had been released from jail after his bond was reduced to only a hundred dollars. Judge Barnes stated he should have been tried for lunacy, claiming the so-called "classified documents," was a made-up story, and the whole incident had no validity. The Mexican-American people, who had been waiting patiently for the trial, were elated to hear of Ramos's release. Ramos immediately crossed into Matamoros, where the Carranzistas welcomed him, honoring him with a big banquet; all were laughing and talking about how he had outsmarted the dim-witted gringos.

  During the spring and summer months, the raiding became so common that Texas Governor Ferguson desperately pleaded and demanded that the United States Army head for the border. The army did not feel that it was a priority, for no man's life had been taken. The activities were considered "local rustling" and problematic to Texas only. But in early July, outside the town of Sebastian, a young American was killed, supposedly by a band of marauders. The raids kept coming, with a band of well-armed intruders killing two Americans near a ranch in Lyford, Texas, followed by the robbing of stores and post offices, the burning of bridges, and more killings of Americans in a shootout. The citizens of South Texas became ever more panic-stricken.

  White vigilante groups sprang up, and rumors were spreading about a "secret society" called the Ku Klux Klan, which promoted the evil ideology of White Supremacy and had worked its way into the lives of many Rio Grande Valley merchants. Many newcomers arriving from Mississippi, Louisiana, Georgia, and Alabama firmly believed that the only way the Negroes and Mexicans could be restrained was by fear, through flogging, lynching, or outright shooting without any explanation.

  *****

  Victoria traveled twice a week from Mercedes to Spanish Acres to return the empty glass milk bottles that Manuel delivered to the house in Mercedes. Little Luis was left with his wet nurses and the four servants of the house, giving Victoria the freedom that she craved. When she wasn't spending time with Mamá Maria, who felt poorly most of the time from old age and arthritis, she would take Soledad with her in her carriage and spend the majority of her time with Doña Adela, learning the uses of herbs. Victoria was becoming a master in reading the fortune-telling cards, and she also learned special spells, potions, and the use of liniments.

  While at Doña Adela's place, Soledad occupied herself by sewing, cooking, crocheting or knitting, and helped the old bruja with her household duties. One hot afternoon Soledad went outside to keep from being smothered by the humid heat, while the other two women were engrossed in lessons and conversation. She carried a small woven basket among the tall grasses and bushes where Doña Adela had some of her greens planted and began picking the tender leaves of the abundant spearmint bush for a cup of tea. She frowned, wondering why la Bruja's dogs were making such a clamor.

  As she picked the therapeutic herbs, she thought she saw something moving in the undergrowth. She straightened up, startled to see two men on horseback wandering among the brasada's bushes and mesquite trees. They did not see her, as she wrapped her shawl around her head, and concealed her presence behind a thick, overhanging mesquite tree. She observed them for a short time between the limbs and leaves of the trees, as the dogs' barks became more frantic.

  A gray horse came closer and instantly she recognized the rider's face, even though it was covered with a salt-and-pepper beard—the face that had given her nightmares for so many years—the man who had so brutally raped her. It was Hanson! Numb with horror, she dropped her basket. She covered her mouth and swallowed the lump in her throat for fear she would begin to scream hysterically. The other man she did not recognize, but eventually the two disappeared into the cactus and undergrowth. Her heart fluttered and pounded uncontrollably. Her stomach was in knots, and her feet felt paralyzed. Almost in slow motion, she eased herself down on the ground and into a fetal position, her hands covering her face.

  Doña Adela, slow in her actions, appeared at the door of her hut. She peeked out the screen door and finally ventured out of her jacale, followed by Victoria. La bruja began banging the porch floor with her cane to stop the dogs from further barking. Victoria looked around in all directions, then stepped down from the wooden porch and walked toward the herb garden, calling out for Soledad.

  *****

  Back at Mercedes, and late in the evening, Victoria waited anxiously for her father to return from his trip to advise him of the ne
ws that Hanson was on the loose, in the area of Spanish Acres. It made sense in explaining the several mysterious happenings in the brasada. For one, several cattle had been missing, then, one of the worker's dogs had been found dead with several bullets lodged in the head and stomach of the animal. Another found a dead goat hanging on Don Federico's gate. Only the insides had been removed, and it had been skinned, letting the blood drain down along the side of a tall cactus. Was this an omen? What did it mean? There were several complaints from the workers at the oil field of sabotage to the wells—dynamite was missing, tools were gone. Strange riders, strange happenings were occurring all over the area.

  A family of three had crossed the border from Mexico on a ferry at the Santa Maria Crossing with their wagon full of supplies. Later that evening the bodies of a man and a woman were found, riddled with shots in their backs. Their ten-year-old son had run and hidden among the undergrowth and later told the story of how the Texas Rangers bullied his parents and decided to help themselves to their goods, killing them both when they resisted. This incident was ignored and never reported. This enraged many of the relatives and put fear in families.

  By the end of July, two Mexicans living south of Harlingen were shot in the back by the Texas Rangers without any explanation, only because they looked suspicious. Then, on the old military road near San Benito, masked vigilantes seized a Mexican prisoner from a deputy sheriff and hung him in broad daylight from an old cottonwood tree.

  Early in August, reportedly twenty Mexican bandits crossed the river west of Brownsville. They stole horses and disappeared into the bushes. Texas Rangers, a cavalry officer, and several customs inspectors, along with groups of angry citizens, took off in pursuit to catch the bandits.

  Aniceto Pizaña, who lived at Los Tulitos Rancho near Brownsville, was already being fingered with suspicion since he and Augustin Garza and Del la Rosa had been involved in remedying injustices. They were putting out leaflets and mouthing off about the atrocities being committed against the Mexican people in the Valley. Aniceto Pizaña's ranch became the target of retribution. There was no warning of their approach, only when gunshots rang out, and white officers bellowed for Aniceto to come out of the house and give himself up. A volley of rifle shots was fired and a gunfight ensued.

  When the dust settled, several of the Texas Rangers and several in the angry mob were wounded, and a United States soldier was killed. Aniceto managed to escape through the back of his house; however, his wife was shot in the shoulder and his son was shot in the leg, which later had to be amputated. His brother was roughly mistreated and tortured, then taken to a federal jail. In the house, many pamphlets were found containing words condemning the United States. Pizaña swore revenge and began the "Pizaña raids," shocking the entire lower Rio Grande Valley. He organized Mexican nationals already pro-German and anti-American to attack the Los Fresno pumps, which were burned down and its staff killed. One of the witnesses stated he was German, so his life was spared, which led folks to believe that the Germans were as involved in instigating the raids as any of the Mexican Carranzistas.

  By the end of the long, muggy summer, Don Federico and James had worked back and forth between Brownsville courts and the Mexican Consul in Matamoros and had returned by train late at night. The Don found his whole household up in arms. Apparently, several men in white hoods had placed a large burning cross in front of their home. The Don, exhausted from his long journey, went outside and began asking questions of his workers. "Did anybody see who these men were? Did anyone recognize any of them?"

  One of the alarmed workers came forward. "The wagon is a downtown gringo merchant—the one that has the fancy gingerbread inscribed on the side of the wagon," said one of the gardeners who witnessed the scene from his small hut next to the barn. He and several of the others worked the landscape, took care of the horses, and lived behind the great house. They saw the riders coming toward the house with torches, looking like spirits in the dark. It had scared them to death, being superstitious, and they wondered if ghosts were roaming the area. They stood frightened and astounded behind the barn, peeking around the corner in total shock, watching and waiting to see what was going to happen.

  "How do you know which merchant?" queried Don Federico.

  Chico, who knew little of the English alphabet, made an inscription in the dirt, indicating the letter "M" that was inscribed on the wagon. "My brother and I deliver hundred pounds of grain to his business on Saturdays. We have made comments on the wagon, which sits in the back of the granary. We dream of how we would like to have one just like it."

  "You mean ol' man Milton? Who was riding in the wagon, or did you see his face? Don Federico was mystified.

  "No, I did not see his face, but that was the same wagon, the only wagon like that around here."

  "Did you recognize anybody else? Did anyone else look familiar?"

  "No," Chico answered, stifling a yawn.

  Don Federico thanked the men and told them to go back to bed. He apologized for having disturbed them and told them he would talk to them in the morning.

  James had already gone to bed, but the Don went into his private library and lit his pipe. He studied the situation realistically, as he always did in any emergency. He chewed his inner cheeks; it made him think better. Old man Milton, a widower, was in his late sixties and had migrated to South Texas from Mississippi several years ago when the explosive economic boom was beginning. He came with his two children—two boys who were older than Fred. His business merchandising farm equipment and grains had become quite successful. Milton had always been polite and very attentive to the Don's needs, especially in selling him supplies and grain for his horses and mules. What did Milton have against him? Could it be that the merchants were jealous of his appointed position? Why? Why did they care? Why attack his home?

  The next morning Don Federico learned from Fred that the oldest Milton boy was bullying him after school and making fun of him, calling him names like "Greaser" and "dirty Mexican." Fred's easy-going attitude and his grandfather's hot, temper had intermixed into a tremendous impulse and instant temptation. He had slugged the boy in the face, whacked him hard, and left him crying on the school grounds. The other boys who watched laughed and made fun of the Milton boy, as the tide turned. No doubt ol' man Milton had gotten wind of the incident and was going to get even. Could it be possible that the oldest boy had been driving Milton's wagon?

  Fred told his father when he returned home from the military academy he had wandered into the Milton Mercantile out of curiosity and to shop. He had run into the oldest boy, a redheaded, freckle-faced kid who hollered at him as soon as Fred entered the store. "We do not allow Mexicans to buy in this place." Fred had left the store feeling embarrassed and humiliated, not knowing what to say when white people in the store wrinkled up their noses at him. That was the first encounter he had had with the oldest Milton boy, and later, in school, he kept "messing" with him, as Fred called it.

  "If ol' man Milton is so upset about you putting his boy in his place, why did he not come and talk to me? That's no reason to have burning crosses on my lawn. But I'll handle this with ol' man Milton when I see him," Don Federico replied adamantly.

  He was also disturbed upon learning that Hanson was riding onto his property. The devious, murderous Hanson would never forget what happened in Monterrey—losing all of his possessions; losing his creditability with the Texas Rangers, and rotting in the jails of Mexico City. No doubt he's out to get me, thought Don Federico.

  By the end of August, many of the national newspapers, including The New York Times and The Corpus Christi Caller, were reporting men being arrested in Brownsville for shouting, "Time to kill the gringos!" El Progreso, the Laredo Mexican paper, was reporting that anti-American sentiment and anger had reached a climax. It was rumored that over five thousand raiders were ready to attack the Texas border.

  Stories also proliferated about the vigilantes, enforcement agents, and the Texas Rangers taki
ng the law into their own hands, killing purely to instill fear in the innocent Mexican-American people.

  The horror stories and evil forces kept getting worse, and by the end of the summer, the tense citizens went to sleep with their guns next to their beds. While Pizaña escaped across the river, De la Rosa, accompanied by Luis Vasquez and several marauders, split their forces into several raids and rode into Sebastian, Texas, and robbed several stores. They killed a man and his son, burned the building, and led away from the livestock. United States soldiers were notified and began trailing them and exchanged gunfire in a battle that lasted for over two hours, killing five of the raiders. Pictures were featured in the newspapers showing the Rangers proudly dragging the bodies of the bandidos with lassoes tied to their saddles. The Mexican-Americans were appalled, while the Anglos began pressuring the federal government to send in more help.

  In Mercedes, tents sprang up among the palm trees on the south end of Main Street, where soldiers from the United States Army 12th Cavalry set up their outpost. Young men from all parts of the United States were being recruited for the Border Patrol to fight the border raiders. The white citizens of Mercedes, especially the young ladies, began helping out and accommodating the soldiers in whatever way they could.

  In August, amid the oppressive, humid heat, the cavalry patrol stationed in Mercedes got word that around thirty bandits were riding near the town. At the river, several of the Mexican riders fired at the soldiers, and one American was killed and several wounded. Later in the same month, the Sheriff of Hidalgo County was informed that soldiers from the Carranza army were crossing into Texas. There was a great pursuit and nine of the raiders were killed, with several crossing the river back to safety. The conflict continued as the U.S. Cavalry fired toward the river, and bandits fired back, killing two horses. The following morning a group of heavily armed men burned a bridge north of Brownsville.