The Evening News. October 18, 1916

19. Two Romances

I was looking for romance in Spanish California in San Jose, and I found it. I must not give you the real names of Don Pedro's two daughters, for one of them Luisa, still lives. She told me the story.

When San Jose was young, Spanish society was so perfectly organized that the machine seldom skipped a cog. However, Engracia, Don Pedro's daughter, was different.

Engracia was different from other girls. She was different from her sister Luisa. Engracia always smiled. She smiled on her way to church. She even smiled during mass. She could talk with a man and smile without blushing. Luisa never could. She knew that no daughter of a Don should smile during mass or speak to a man without blushing.

Engracia always bewildered Luisa. Once Luisa found her alone in the great hall at the hacienda with Carlos Juarez. Engracia and Carlos were close together. Engracia never blushed even when discovered. Luisa was shocked that a daughter of her father could so behave.

But when the footsteps of Don Pedro sounded outside, Engracia and Luisa fled and left the tall, dark Carlos Juarez to explain to Don Pedro that he had come to buy one of Don Pedro's horses. Don Pedro believed it, but Luisa did not reproach her older sister. In Spanish Californian families one respected elders, even elder sisters.

That very night the situation grew grave. A guitar tinkled in the distance. Luisa suspected that Carlos Juarez was serenading Engracia. Don Pedro and his wife looked at their daughters. All seemed innocent of any knowledge of any serenade, but most innocent of all was Engracia. Luisa blushed. Don Pedro and his wife stared hard at her. Luisa was a strange girl.

Very timidly that night when they were alone Luisa asked Engracia if she knew who had been the serenade. "Of course," replied Engracia, "Carlos Juarez. I am going to marry him."

"Carlos Juarez! He is half Mexican! Madre de Dios! What will our parents say?"

"It matters not if he is an Indian," said Engracia, "I will marry him. You, Luisa, must tell our parents tomorrow."

"I am afraid," said Luisa. "They will be very angry. They will never consent."

"I will marry Carlos if I am killed with him," decided Engracia.

"No one in our family ever disobeyed their parents. You wouldn't disgrace them," pleaded Luisa.

"I will marry Carlos," said Engracia obstinately.

Neither of the girls slept, but Luisa told Engracia that no matter what she did she would always love her.

In the morning Luisa confessed to her father that Engracia wanted to marry Carlos Juarez. She wished to have the banns published immediately at Santa Clara.

Don Pedro raged. Carlos Juarez like a thief had stolen his daughter. Never should he have her. He stormed at Luisa, too. She was a bad girl to bring him such a message. In fear Luisa sought Engracia. Straight to Don Pedro went Engracia.

"What Luisa said is true. I am going to marry Carlos. I would like your consent, father."

"Gringo girl!" He raged at her. "I would rather see you dead than mix your blood with that worthless Mexican."

"I'd rather be dead than live without Carlos. If you don't publish the banns Carlos and I will go without them to Sonoma and live on his ranch."

Disgrace Don Pedro could not endure. He was beaten. The banns were published at Santa Clara. But during the days preceding the wedding, at the hacienda no one smiled.

Luisa wished to go with Engracia to the church, but she dared not further anger Don Pedro. And so, without feast or celebration, like a funeral Engracia's wedding day approached. But Engracia's soul was feasting.

Even before the appointed hour Carolos Juarez' horses pranced outside the gate of the patio. Tenderly Engracia kissed her weeping family farewell. To the servants she gave warm handclasps, for she was going to live in far away Sonoma. Only the mother of God knew when again she would see San Jose. One happy moment there was in her going. As she stepped to the deep door of the adobe house, Don Pedro said, "Engracia daughter, kneel, let me give you my blessing."

All the weeping family shed tears in joy. Perhaps Don Pedro would go to the church with Engracia.

Engracia herself gave a little sob of happiness as she knelt and said, "Yes, father."

Quick as a flash Don Pedro drew from his belt the short, ugly rawhide used by him in breaking the will of unruly animals. Blow after blow fell upon Engracia's thinly covered shoulders, making her low as a beast. In defense the mother sprang forward, but the wild blows fell upon her, too, and silenced all.

Screaming, Engracia fled from the hacienda and flung her bleeding body into her lover's arms. Tenderly Carlos Juarez lifted her into the saddle. Away they rode to Santa Clara and were married.

"And they lived happily?" I asked Luisa.

"No girl who disobeys her parents is ever happy," said Luisa, now broken, old. "Carlos had eyes for all women. Engracia lived alone on the Sonoma ranch with an Indian servant. Her heart broke. When she was old my father forgave her."

And you had no romance?" I asked.

"No," she answered, "Guadalupe, my husband, was the son of my father's best friend. All wished us to marry. Guadalupe's mother gave me beautiful silk dresses, linen, sliver, jewels as Spanish-California mothers did. We rode to Santa Clara under canopies of flags and flowers. The Mission church was filled. The wedding party danced two weeks. Guadalupe and I had eight children. We never quarreled. Rich or poor we were happy. Fifty-five years we were happy. When he died my brain seemed numb. It is numb today. I sit here in this little room, looking at his picture. I feel death devouring my body. I am glad. I want to go to him."

I left her looking at her husband's picture. I wondered which sister had had the great romance, Engracia or Luisa.

Transcribed by Kitty LaFavor, for the Santa Clara Co. CAGenWeb Project. 2008

Return to When San Jose Was Young Index.