That winter day in 1873, standing still in the doorway, Teresa Moragas Gibert looked sadly
at her husband and her eldest son, who were leaving the house to go to the station, but
she couldn't imagine what her husband was up to. The two disappeared as they turned the
street that led to the church square. José Defaus Ballesté carried the suitcase and
Mariano the backpack. The two spoke little during the journey. The father accompanied
the boy to the platform where the train for Barcelona left. While they were waiting, José
handed him an envelope with an official document and said seriously, “I have had to hide
this embarrassing situation.”
While Mariano read the document, José continued telling him, “The mayor has helped me,
so that no one knows about the accusation. You already know that the call for compulsory
military service is called in a staggered manner. According to the mayor, you will likely be
summoned for military service this summer. However, as far as other people are
concerned, you have fled so as not to enlist and for no other reason. Understand?”
“I'm sorry, Father, I didn't dare to confess to you that the sheriff reported me.”
“You always get into trouble! You have to promise me that you're going to settle down.”
The train arrived and the conversation was settled, but throughout the trip Mariano thought
about all the pranks that he had put together with Pepito, his friend, and he promised
himself that from now on he would be more careful.
A lot of water had flowed over the bridge since that morning when Teresa said goodbye to
Mariano. As the days passed, she realized that she would not see her son again as soon
as she expected. Teresa was not a timid and fearful woman. On the contrary, as a young
woman she would have been brave if she had had the opportunity to leave town when her
father arranged the marriage with Jose, but at that time women had to be quiet and do
what their father had established for them. She married José Defaus Ballesté barely
knowing him. Before the wedding, she only saw him a couple of times at the town's main
festival dance. But luckily José always respected her; and although he was in charge at
home, he also let her decide some things. Mariano looked like her, he was kind, dreamy,
sensitive, courageous, faithful, and compliant.
“Where did Mariano come from with that character?” her husband asked her one night at
the beginning of that fateful year, speaking softly so that the four sons, who were sleeping
in the next bedroom, would not hear him.
“Mariano is a brave boy,” Teresa told him.
“Let's hope that all that energy does not carry on in a bad way.”
“Don't exaggerate. He's a good boy,” Teresa answered.
“He likes trains and ships too much. I'm afraid he’ll go far away from us.”
“I fear that as well, but it will be God’s will,” Teresa dared to say.
“I don't think he will abandon us, but what worries me most now is that even his age group
may be called for military service. There are rumors that if there is a lack of volunteers in
the army they are also going to recruit seventeen-year-olds.”
“Don't worry José. Mariano is not yet seventeen years old. It's not going to be his turn yet,”
his wife told him, not entirely convinced.
Teresa slept little and poorly that night, as she feared that her eldest son would sooner or
later be called to arms. However, she got up early and, as always, prepared breakfast for
the whole family. While she was drinking a cup of hot milk in which she was dipping pieces
of dry bread, she told her husband that she had dreamed a very strange thing: “The patio
was flooded with water, it was raining heavily and all the plants were drowning and dying,
suddenly some very fat frogs came out of the puddles and entered the house. Who knows
what this dream means.”
“Dreams don't mean anything! The only thing I think is that it's going to rain,” José told her,
laughing.
Teresa smiled but did not confess that she had barely slept a wink that night for fear of
losing Mariano.
After a few days, the postman brought an official notice for Mariano. With that closed
envelope in her hand, Teresa collapsed and began to cry. When her husband arrived, the
little ones were crying next to her. When she saw Jose, she tried to calm down, but she
couldn't and, sobbing, she handed him the letter. While José read it, he had to sit down.
Mariano was lagging behind José, and after seeing his father's twitching face he knew that
bad news had arrived. When José recovered, he hugged Mariano and told him that the
Defaus family was very esteemed in the town and that someone would surely help them.
Teresa let her husband go see the mayor, but she did not believe that that good man could
help them. “Mariano is not the son of a widow and has no physical defects. It is not
possible for him to avoid enlistment,” she said to herself.
Jose sobbed with joy mixed with sorrow when he learned that Mariano could escape to
Cuba protected by the pharmacist Sarrá.
The first weeks after Mariano's departure were very hard for Teresa. She had to lock
herself in the laundry room so that no one would see her cry. The Defaus house was old, it
had been built by José Defaus Ballesté's great-great-grandfather in the mid-eighteenth
century. On the ground floor there were two rooms. The first was bright, with a window that
overlooked the street. It was a sewing room where the women sat down to sew in the
afternoon. The other was dark, with a small high window that overlooked the staircase and
it was used as a storage room. The bedrooms were on the first floor, which was accessed
by a fairly steep staircase. In the dining room there was a sideboard, a dark wood table
with turned legs, and six upholstered chairs on which the few guests who entered the
house sat. After the dining room, there was access to a verandah and then to a large
kitchen that opened onto the patio through a French door. In the kitchen there were wood
stoves and a large fireplace where the family spent most of their time during the winter
months. In the enclosed courtyard there was a well, a washing place and a toilet, which
they called “La Comuna.” This toilet consisted of a wooden board with a central hole where
one could stand or sit to urinate and evacuate the bowels. Hanging on the wall of the
laundry room was a large basin for taking baths. Teresa carefully took care of the patio, full
of large pots with plants and flowers. Beyond the yard there was the horse stable, the
chicken coop, the pigsty and other corrals.
Before the recruitment document arrived, José explained to his wife how he had managed
so that neither she nor the townspeople knew that the Arenys court had summoned his
son.
The mayor notified him first and Jose was able to hide from everyone that the first
requirement to appear in court had arrived for Mariano. At first, Teresa felt bad that her
husband had not trusted her, but when the call arrived shortly after for Mariano to enlist in
the army, she accepted her husband's cunning plan.
A few weeks after Mariano's escape, the court's second request arrived, which required
Mariano to enlist. For Teresa it was another disappointment. “Don't worry about the court,
I'm going to show up, you'll see that I'll fix everything,” José told her.
“Bad news keeps coming to us,” she told him, sobbing.
However, when Teresa received Mariano's first letter she smiled again. She read it to
everyone and stopped going to the laundry room to cry. For her, although she did not want
to admit it, Mariano was her favorite son. Since he had embarked, she had been crazy
with joy when she received his letters. Reading them she felt him close and she answered
him immediately. It seemed like she lived just for that.
“Don't exaggerate, woman! Stop obsessing about Mariano and enjoy the children you still
have at home,” her husband told her almost every night before falling asleep.
“I do not understand you, Jose. I need to know about his life; and corresponding with him,
it is as if I were also in Cuba. I also have a hunch that he will return soon, but in the
meantime I don't want him to feel alone. That's why my letters include stories about our
family, so that he feels close to home.”
“Poor postman! Every morning you burden him waiting for a letter,” José told her, and after
yawning he ended the conversation, turning off the light.
The years went by and Teresa became more and more afraid of never seeing her son
again, but she didn't tell anyone. On the contrary, she told everyone that Mariano was
going to return soon.
In a letter dated May 15, 1877, Teresa told Mariano the details of the wedding of his sister,
María, whom everyone called Mariona. She was nineteen years old and her boyfriend,
Agustí Riera Nualart, a boy from Malgrat, was twenty-one. Agustí was the youngest son of
a family of farmers. Knowing that his father's land was going to be inherited by his older
brother, he looked for work outside the village. He found a job as a farmhand in a large
farmhouse on an agricultural and livestock farm in a small town near Girona. Mariona went
to see her mother and, crying, told her that she did not want to leave her hometown.
Teresa had to convince her to leave with Agustí. “If you stay in Malgrat, you are going to
die of hunger,” she told her firmly and sweetly at the same time.
But she didn't tell Mariano that. Teresa did not agree.with the law of inheritances that ruled
in Catalonia. This law provided that all assets went to the heir, generally the eldest of the
male children, and only a small amount went to the other children. She knew that she
could not change the rules that her ancestors had established. However, when she wrote
to Mariona, she sent her money to remedy those inequalities a little. Mariona did not like to
write, she preferred to visit her parents two or three times a year. Her husband would
accompany her, taking a car to Girona and then she would take the coach to go see her
parents.
Isidro started to show signs of being an adventurous character like Mariano, but he was
more impulsive and often acted without caution. Teresa had found out that he had a
relationship with a woman of bad reputation. “Isidro, remember that a good and loyal
woman is a real treasure,” Teresa told him one day.
“Why do you tell me that, mother? I still don't have a wife,” Isidro replied.
“I tell you this because when you have a good wife, you will think about my words.” Teresa
did not tell Jose about Isidro’s relationship. She only told him that she was afraid that Isidro
would go off the rails. José decided that Isidro would embark as a sailor on one of the
ships that anchored in the Malgrat shipyard. Isidro, before turning sixteen, on a gray day at
the beginning of winter, was forced to embark on a ship that traded through the south of
France.
Teresa thought that she was going to go crazy losing another son. She consoled herself
knowing that she would see Isidro every two or three months and that it would be very
good for her son to get away from the woman of dubious reputation.
One night, when Teresa and José were going to bed, she told him about the last letter she
had written to Mariano. “I told him that Isidro embarked a few weeks ago and how little we
are going to see of him from now on. Before you go to sleep, can I read you a part of my
letter?”
“You can read it to me tomorrow. I'm very sleepy,” he replied.
José read the letters that came to them from Cuba very eagerly, but he used any excuse
to avoid hearing his wife read to him what she wrote to Mariano. This was because he was
moved to tears when he heard everything that Teresa told him about him and the children,
and he was ashamed that his wife would see him cry.
Juan, his second son, was called to arms at the beginning of 1878, when he had just
turned eighteen. It had been five years since Mariano had escaped to Cuba and they were
still numb due to the separation from Mariano, so Teresa and José did not try to do
anything to prevent him from being recruited and let things take their natural course. In her
letters from that time, Teresa told Mariano very little about Juan, because she did not want
to upset him. There was little news from Juan for many months, until he returned with a leg
wound and lung disease. Since returning from the front, he had become more taciturn,
spending many hours alone in the field, sitting under a tree and meditating. His brother
Francisco, who was four years younger than him, had to leave the seminary where he was
studying for many months to take care of the crops and harvests. José and Teresa were
worried about Juan, because it seemed like he was trapped in another world from which
he couldn't escape. However, Teresita, his fiancée, a girl from a nearby village, never
stopped encouraging him and little by little he recovered, starting to till the land again and
go out with his friends.
It was then that Teresa told Mariano that Juan was much better from his illness and that he
was soon going to marry Teresita. It was the year 1882. That same year, Mariano sent a
photo to his mother and announced that he had found a new job on a farm in Pinar del
Rio. While Mariano anxiously waited for the letter, in which his mother described Teresita
and Juan's wedding ceremony and party, he could not have imagined what his parents
were saying to each other one night a few days earlier.
“Yesterday I wrote a very long letter to Mariano, telling him that we really like our daughter-
in-law.”
“You don't know when to stop writing to Mariano!” José answered her.
“I haven't been to the post office yet, but I want to go early tomorrow so it can go out as
soon as possible. I'm going to read you the first page.”
“What’s the rush! Well, read me just a little bit, I'm very sleepy.”
Teresa began to read:
December 1, 1882
Dear Mariano,
I expect you to be well when you receive this letter and enjoy good health. Thank God we
are fine. I can finally give you good news: Juan's wedding to Teresita was a success.
Juan, who is still in poor health, looked great and was very elegant. Teresita was radiant
with joy. She wore a white mantilla, which made her black hair and brown skin stand out
and made her even more beautiful.
Isidro was able to attend the wedding. Fortunately, they gave him permission. Mariona
also came with her husband. I was happy, with all my children at home. Only you were
missing. But I know that when you can, you will come back.
Don't worry about us, we are fine. The harvest this year has been good. Your father's
businesses are also improving. Let's hope that now that the war is over everything will be
settled.
Juan has been very lucky by marrying Teresita. She is a good girl and overflowing with joy.
She even wants to paint the kitchen walls and rearrange the dining room furniture. When I
married your father, I couldn't change anything in the house. My mother-in-law, your
grandmother, ruled like a general and your grandfather was a force to be reckoned with
when he got angry with her. You must not remember much about them anymore as they
died when you were ten years old.
Your sister-in-law, Teresita, is not afraid to work, and in the kitchen she is a marvel. She
lost her mother when she was very young and learned at a young age how to run a house.
Your father and I are very happy with our daughter-in-law. She has brought us joy; and if
you saw the garden, you would not recognize it. In a few days, she has planted numerous
bushes and flowers that the neighbors have given her. She gets along very well with the
neighborhood. Do you remember Marcelina, the grumpy old neighbor next door? Well, she
behaves wonderfully with her and she doesn't yell at Teresita.
Teresita is very affectionate with the little ones. Since Mariona got married five years ago,
Rosa and Luisa have had to wake up and grow up on their own. In the morning, I take care
of the housework and in the afternoon I take care of the work in the fields. That's why I
don't have the chance to spend time with them. But they are very happy with Teresita now.
Francisco is already seventeen years old and he likes to study. Following the advice of the
priest and the teacher, as I told you in another letter, Francisco, after primary school, went
to study in Girona. He studies at the seminary where Isidro had been, but says he does
not want to be a priest. Every summer he returns home for the harvest. He is a very hard
worker, but at night he does not go to the cafe like all the men in the town. He stays home
and reads. He is shy and enjoys solitude. The complete opposite of Isidro, who never
stays home. We don’t see much of Isidro. The last time he came I got angry with him
because he had gotten a horrible tattoo on his arm. Your father was also furious. He yelled
at him because no one in our family had ever gotten tattoos. You see, on the one hand I
worry about Francisco because he rarely goes out, and on the other hand I worry about
Isidro because he is too impulsive. But I have to accept that each child has their own
character, right?
I like receiving your letters and I hope that your new job at the Pinar del Río farm goes
very well for you. The other day I made your favorite Cuban dish, “Moros y Cristianos.” At
first, everyone thought it was strange, but as they ate it they appreciated its goodness.
I hope you can return soon. However, I understand that you now want to take advantage
of your new job. Maybe in a couple of years you'll be able to come back. I love the photo
you sent us.
You are an elegant man. The suit you are wearing is so beautiful! You look a little like my
father. Your blue eyes are from the Moragas family and your fleshy mouth is from the
Giberts . . .
Teresa looked at her husband who was lying next to her with his eyes closed. She skipped
the page where she told funny memories of the Moragas family, her aunt Gertrudis, and
her spinster cousins and continued reading the final part of the letter aloud, even though
she knew that no one was listening to her:
…Forgive me if I tell you so many things, but you already know how much I like to talk
about my ancestors and my relatives.
Your father's back hurts, and he has to wear a belt to work the land. I always tell him not to
strain, to let the boys take care of everything. He doesn’t go out very much, even though
he used to like to go to the cafe. Since the veterinarian, one of his best friends, died, he is
a little depressed.
I don't want to sadden you by talking about illnesses and deaths. We will always wait for
you with open arms.
Your mother who loves you very much,
Teresa Moragas Gibert
Teresa began to cry quietly and turned off the light, but she had a hard time falling asleep.
While she was suppressing her sobs, she could not imagine that a year later she would
send Mariano a letter that she had never wanted to write.
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