"The Magistrado Comes"
In the months after the death of the Eagle, California sighed in relief. It was a time of healing for the beleaguered colony. The men who had been captured were made to talk and it was to be hoped that most, if not all, of the Eagle’s men had been rounded up and put in prison or executed for their crimes. Everyone from the peons to the large landholders felt more freedom to conduct their lives without fear of the criminal element which had plagued California for so long.
During this time, Diego de la Vega enjoyed a much needed period of rest from his labors as the masked man, El Zorro. In the year or so since his return from Spain, he had been constantly vigilant against the tyranny and injustice forced upon the people of California, first by Capitán Enrique Monastario and then by José Sebastian de Varga, the Eagle. With most of the criminals gone, Diego could, at last, sleep right through the night without being disturbed. This led to Bernardo’s silent comment concerning the gradual disappearance of the small lines which had formed around his young master’s eyes as a result of his many nocturnal missions.
However, there was always the undercurrent of the strained relationship Diego had with his father which ran through his days. But during this period of calm, even this was reduced to a minimum. It was as though Don Alejandro had just decided not to talk about his disappointments anymore. Diego was able to spend some time with his father, and, as long as they kept to lighter subjects, they were able to carry on satisfying conversations. Although he was not ready to give up his other identity, Diego was hopeful that the need for Zorro was over and that slowly and carefully, he could move into a more normal life, the life that he had placed on hold while he dealt with the evil men who had wielded their power so unjustly. His fondest wish was to regain his father’s respect. Given enough time, Diego was confident he could do so.
One morning, just a few days after the start of the new year, Diego was eating a late breakfast in the warm kitchen of the hacienda. As he often did, he was talking to Crescensia and some of the other servants about their families. Today, the women were preparing to make some candles from tallow, and Buena was stirring the great pot on the fire while Teresa prepared the wicks.
"Do you mean to tell me little Emilio did all that in such a short time?" Diego said, laughing.
"Sí, Don Diego! He was covered in mud up to his ears," laughed Crescensia. "I will never forget the look on his face," she said, as she wiped her hands on her apron. Both she and Diego chuckled over the antics of Crescensia’s three-year-old grandson. The other women laughed also. Their attention was then drawn to the back door of the hacienda as Don Alejandro walked in with a breath of cold air following him, having just returned from the pueblo. The older man pulled off his gloves and hat, laying them on the table.
"Well, Father," said Diego, leaning back in his chair. "What is the news of the pueblo this day?"
"There is important news today," said Don Alejandro. "Sergeant Garcia has received a letter from Monterey which says a new Magistrado for our district will be arriving by coach on the fifteenth of the month, two days from now."
Both Diego and Crescensia exchanged looks.
"Now, do not look so worried," said Don Alejandro, pulling a letter of his own from the inside of his hat. "I have here a letter from the Governor, sent to me personally. In it, he expresses great confidence in this new Magistrado . . . a Señor Santiago," he said, as he referred to the letter. "Señor Santiago, it seems, helped to round up and prosecute many of the Eagle’s followers in Monterey and San Francisco after that foul usurper was defeated here. He was also once a member of the Viceroy’s personal staff. The Governor has asked me to acquaint Señor Santiago with our pueblo and to give him my full support."
"All right, Father," said Diego with a smile. "On behalf of the Governor, we shall give the new Magistrado the benefit of the doubt. Will there be a reception?"
"Sí. A reception is being planned in the tavern," said Don Alejandro. Looking directly at Diego he said, "And you should be there too. We all need to show our support for the new Magistrado."
"I would not miss it, Father," said Diego. He had felt himself go on inner alert at the news of the new Magistrado, despite the governor’s reassurances. He would watch this new man very carefully. An honest government official would be a rarity for Los Angeles given its recent history.
"Very well," said Don Alejandro. "Crescensia?"
"Sí, Don Alejandro?"
"I will be in the library working on my ledgers the rest of the morning. You may bring my lunch to me there."
Crescensia smiled and acknowledged his orders with a little bow and said, "Sí, Don Alejandro."
The elder de la Vega picked up his gloves and hat and walked out of the room. Crescensia looked after him a moment as Diego finished drinking the chocolate in his cup. "Do you think the new Magistrado will be a good man, Don Diego?" she asked.
"I hope so," said Diego, smiling up at her. "We certainly have had enough of the other kind, haven’t we?"
"Sí," she said, nodding her head thoughtfully.
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Jorgé Martinez Santiago used the gloves he held in his right hand to brush off the small mote of dust which had settled on the sleeve of his dark suit coat. There were still many miles to go before they would reach their destination, and the coach, while dusty, was not excessively so. The recent rains of winter had settled the dirt of the roadway and it did not fly up in the great, dry clouds it would at other times of the year. He was grateful the rains had come, for his wife, Gracilia could not abide the dust very well. Her illness was trying under the best of circumstances and the dust of El Camino Real would have made both of their lives more miserable. He looked at her now, reclined on the seat in the opposite corner of the coach, her pale skin almost translucent in the winter-weakened sunlight. She was enveloped in her warmest garments and covered with several thick blankets to protect her from the cold. Her eyes were closed against her constant companion; the pain that defied explanation. No doctor in California seemed to know what caused her pain, nor did they know what to do for it. Laudanum was the only thing which seemed to give her any relief, but it was only the relief of drug induced sleep. It would seem the medicine took as great a toll on her as did the illness, but she could not live without it. Her serving woman, Pippa, sat next to her and constantly adjusted the blankets and administered Gracilia’s medication as required. Pippa’s one and only duty was to take care of Señora Santiago.
Santiago looked back out of the window at the countryside and sighed within himself. He had, only last year, married the Governor’s niece with such high expectations and now he was reduced to living with an invalid. Of course, there was nothing he could do about it without angering the Governor. He could only carry on and live as well as he could while she lived. Marrying Gracilia had been the next logical step in his life after he had reached California. The marriage gave him ties to the Governor which could only have been strengthened more had he been able to marry the Governor’s own daughter. But Leonar had been out of reach while that shining example of soldierhood, Capitán Felipe Arellanos stood in the way. The Governor seemed to favor him as a match for his daughter, and so Santiago had to be contented with the niece.
Santiago fingered the hilt of the ornate sword by his side. When he and Arellanos had fenced each other for sport, he had entertained the thought a few times that a slip here or there and Felipe would no longer be a contender for Leonar’s affections. But he had stayed his hand. The niece had been adequate for his needs and she was almost as dear to the Governor as his own daughter. Gazing at Gracilia once again, he was rather chagrined that he had been so accommodating. Leonar was still a healthy young señorita, unlike his unfortunate wife. For a moment, he dared to imagine his life without Gracilia should she succumb to her mysterious illness.
Shrugging his shoulders to himself at the futility of those imaginings, he patted the portfolio on the seat next to him which contained his credentials. Despite his wife’s illness, he was making progress in his career. He had been chosen by the Governor to be the new Magistrado for the pueblo of Los Angeles and the documents signed by the Governor, with the authority given to him by the King of Spain, were safely in his possession. Santiago knew he was considered young to take up such an office. He was now only in his mid-thirties, but he had made a name for himself in Spain as a young man with ability. His family was of small importance in the hierarchy of Spanish nobility, but young Santiago had the clever talent of attaching himself to those above his station. He was quick and intelligent. Whenever an opportunity came along to further his career, he took it, much to the satisfaction of the men who bid him farewell. Most of them were just jealous enough of his abilities that they were quite glad to see him move on.
When he had reached his late twenties, he had been assigned to the staff of Spain’s ambassador to the United States of America and had traveled that country extensively. What he had seen there had changed his life. The Americanos were a people charged with an energy he had not seen before. They were industrious and ambitious, always wanting something better than what they had at present, and they were not afraid to take chances to get it. Santiago was by then well aware of the great tract of land, called the Louisiana Purchase, which had been acquired by the Americanos from the French in 1803, notwithstanding any Spanish feelings which may have been trampled in the transaction. The point was that the Americano settlers were moving to fill the land, claiming vast areas for their farms and ranchos.
Santiago knew something about the Americanos which they did not know themselves, except perhaps in the highest levels of their government and society. He knew that their expansion would not stop until they reached all across the North American continent, all the way to the Pacific Ocean. And that included Spain’s holdings in California. Santiago knew Spain’s hold on her colony in California was tenuous at best. With the continual wars against her neighbors draining her manpower and her wealth, and the sheer distance involved just to maintain a presence in California, Spain would be hard pressed to keep California for herself. Mexico was far too weak to hold more than they already had. Even if the Mexican government came to California, they would be no match for the Americanos when they came. It occurred to him that whomever controlled the lands of California when the Americanos arrived, could and would make a vast fortune by selling the land to them. He decided that he would be that man.
So he began working even harder, seeking promotions and advancements within the Spanish government. Finally, an opportunity came to join the Viceroy’s staff. He traveled with the Viceroy on his visits to the Spanish-held colonies in South America and then on to California. Santiago soon found that Señor Juan Dehnerias was rather an anomaly in the usual assortment of Spanish government officials. He was an honest man. One who was totally committed to the furtherance of His Majesty’s interests in the new world. Santiago watched how he wielded the power of his office with integrity. The Viceroy used the force of his own personality to gain the respect and obedience of those he was sent to govern.
Santiago watched and learned, honing his political skills with Senor Dehnerias as his mentor. As they traveled, he saw the corruption and avarice of the men in power all along the South American coast. He observed how that they were unsophisticated and used their power bluntly. How that the people feared them and were cooperative only when force was applied. Santiago greatly admired the more subtle, but equally effective use of power by the Viceroy. To all who knew Jorgé Martinez Santiago, he became one of the most honorable men whom they knew. He scrupulously kept his word and upheld the law in all its facets. He was kind to his servants and his animals. He was the one man in California whom the Governor deemed acceptable to wed his niece. No one could fault him for his deportment in his professional or personal life. Yes, he carefully followed the Viceroy’s example.
But only up to a point.
Santiago smiled as he gazed out of the window of the coach. When an opportunity presented itself as the Viceroy’s party had reached the capital city of California, he had been ready. With the Viceroy’s blessing, he had joined the staff of the Governor in Monterey. Having demonstrated his loyalty and ability, Santiago had been the logical choice to fill the position. Thus, Santiago had been stationed in Monterey when the usurper known as the Eagle had made his infamous attempt to take over California for his own interests. Santiago himself had ferreted out several members of the Eagle’s organization in Monterey and had them arrested, gaining further favor with the Governor. He spent the next few months interrogating those men in order to round up the rest of the Eagle’s conspirators, thereby gaining more notoriety and acclaim. He made an effort to remain scrupulously honest in his dealings, further securing for himself the reputation he wished. He was pleased to hear some compare him quite favorably with the Viceroy.
Santiago was amused. He had been able to use the power of his office to hide some of the Eagle’s men from justice. He had given some of them new identities and had hidden them in plain sight as tradesmen or merchantmen. These men knew their fate rode along with his, for he had but to reveal their true identities and they would be hanged. A merchant in Santa Barbara plied his trade there in the most honest fashion, waiting for such a time as he might be needed. The commandanté of the garrison in Santa Barbara was also his to command, the Eagle’s shadow insuring his loyalty. Yes, Santiago was quite satisfied with what he had accomplished right under the nose of the Governor and the military. Everything was hidden in plain sight. No better camouflage could be obtained.
Santiago had made further observations as to how frightened and distrustful many people were of all government officials as he traveled throughout California. They were still uncertain of what the future of California would hold for them and their families and it would not take much to stampede them. It seemed the Eagle had given Santiago a most useful gift. The gift of fear.
If Santiago could but convince the people that another conspiracy of traitors was brewing, the ships and roads leading out of California would be filled with those fleeing the threat. Santiago would be left to buy up vast tracts of land for one peso in ten, or perhaps even less. By the time people realized that there was no overt conspiracy, he would be in control of most of California. Legally. And that was the key. With legal ownership of the land, no one could take it from him.
He had his eyes on the governorship as well and was confident that the old governor would be inclined to choose him over the foppish Arellano when the time came. He would take the steps necessary to insure that. Then, all he would have to do is wait upon the Americanos to arrive with their fat purses to buy the land from him. When he was governor, no one would be able to question his authority to sell land to foreigners when he so chose. As governor, his would be the final word on that subject. Mother Spain would by then be far too weak to mount any opposition.
All he needed was a scapegoat. There would be a trial and a hanging. He would continue to fan the flames of conspiracy with rumors and innuendo. No one would ever know that he was the basis for their fears. In fact, as he played this out in his mind, he could see the people turning to him for help, as the only man whom they felt they could trust.
Santiago’s mind returned to the present and he noticed Pippa staring at him from her corner of the coach. She was probably wondering about the smile on his face, he mused to himself. Let her wonder. Santiago settled his sword more comfortably at his side and then crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the corner of his seat. He closed his eyes to shut out Pippa’s stare and pretended to sleep. But he did not. He entertained himself in the miles that followed with the plans he was making for his future.
