June 2nd, 1817
Dear Papá,
I hope you are well and not missing me too much. I made it to Barcelona yesterday and am now at the home of Tía Ignacia and Tío Benjamín. Tía and Tío send their love as do cousins Imelda, Marta, Carlos, Mateo and Jacinta. All of the cousins are in good health and quite big. It seems only yesterday that we received word of Jacinta's birth and she is already walking and talking most admirably.
Barcelona is huge, I would even say that it is bigger than Mexico City. Not only that but there are people here from every part of the world, people of every race and creed. It is an education just to walk the streets of the city and look at the people. I think I will like it here very much.
Tomorrow Tío Benjamín will travel with me to Madrid and help me enroll at the university. I will send you the address at which to write me once I know it, otherwise you can send letters here.
I miss you and hope you are well.
Your loving son,
Diego
Diego put aside his pen and shook sand on the ink so it would dry faster. He had so much to tell his father but it was hard to put it into words. He carefully folded, sealed and addressed the note. He was a bit reluctant to even write about some of what he had experienced. The voyage had been good, but they had encountered a terrible storm in the third week of the voyage, he was dying to tell his father all about it, but also concerned that the news would cause him no small amount of worry.
"Dieguito!"
Diego smiled, hearing the voice of his young cousin Carlos.
"Sí, Carlito?"
Carlos appeared in the doorway of his room. "Mateo and I are going to play, do you want to come with us?"
Diego could see the anticipation in the young boy's eyes. He grinned. "Of course I do, let's go at once."
August 10th, 1817
My dear son,
I am relieved that you have made it safely to your aunt and uncle's home. I know that by now you will be living in Madrid and will be starting your classes very soon. By the time you get this letter your lectures will be well underway. I encourage you to study diligently and not become distracted by all the sights of the city. I hope you avail yourself of the cultural resources at hand and take advantage of the museums while you are there.
The hacienda is very quiet with you gone, but day to day life is much the same as when you left. Take care of yourself and keep me informed of your activities there. Give my best to your aunts and uncles and cousins.
Your loving father,
Alejandro
Alejandro had been ecstatic to receive his first letter from Diego. He had worried about his son's crossing every day of the approximately two months that it took to go from Mexico to Spain. Now, four months had passed since his son had left him. It was the longest he had ever been away from Diego since he was born. He was glad that his son would get a fine education and learn about the world, but he was also concerned his son would fall into some harm so far away. The presence of his wife's family in Spain gave him little comfort.
Folding the letter and addressing it for mailing he sat and looked at it for a moment. He wished he had more to say, but life was not so exciting in the sleepy town of Los Angeles. Mostly he just missed his son. The hacienda was exceptionally quiet now with only the servants and himself. He had always pictured these days with Isabela at his side, the two of them enjoying each other's company and worrying about Diego together. Instead he was just alone.
Rising he took the letter and headed to the stables. The stagecoach would be leaving this afternoon and he wanted his letter on it.
August 15th, 1817
Dear Papá,
I am now installed in an apartment with some other students near the university in Madrid. There are quite a few other boys studying the same course as I am and I think we will all get along quite well. There are many diversions available to students here on campus, and athletics are prioritized as well. I have met a few other boys from California and Mexico, but there are not so many of us. I will write you with more detailed impressions once lessons commence in a couple weeks.
Like Barcelona, Madrid is quite a large city. There are so many people on the streets every day and the university is something of a microcosm of that big world. There are students from at least fifteen different nationalities studying here making the campus uniquely cosmopolitan. Some of these brave young scholars speak only the most rudimentary Spanish and instead prefer to communicate in French or German, I can only imagine being so bold as to live in a country where I cannot speak the language. At times it is hard enough to be understood here with what the Spaniards call my "New World accent" (though in my opinion it is they who have the accent, whereas I speak properly). Speaking of French and German my course of study will include a thorough knowledge of both languages and I hope to improve my skills in them tremendously.
I hope you are well.
Your loving son,
Diego
Diego knew his father had probably only just gotten the letter he sent in June upon his arrival, but he found himself missing his father. He had enjoyed the summer days he spent in the company of his relatives, his mother's family were certainly an entertaining bunch. Every day it felt like there was some new scheme or adventure, and his younger cousins believed everything he said.
It was upon moving to Madrid, however, that he had started to miss his father. He felt lonely without his cousins. He had never lived on his own before, and he had never lived outside the small community where he was born and raised. Now he was completely alone.
Taking the letter he rose from his small desk in his spartan apartment. Descending the stairs and exiting to the street he headed to post it. With any luck a letter from his father would arrive soon.
September 20th, 1817
Dear Papá,
Today is Mamá's birthday. I've been thinking about her all day. It is two years now that she's been gone from us. I pray for her daily.
Diego paused. Standing, he walked around his small room. He wanted to say so much, he still missed his mother terribly. He ran his hand over his neck trying to think of what to write next. If he were in California the words would come much easier. Here, it seemed there was so much distance. In Los Angeles his mother had been a beloved member of the community, he could mention her to anyone and they would reflect on her fondly. Here she meant nothing to anyone but him.
He looked out the small window in his room. The street was full of people going about their business. People who lived and worked in this neighborhood who he didn't know and doubted he ever would. They were just so many strangers to him, as he was to them. He sighed heavily.
Sitting down again he took his pen and hastily finished the letter.
I hope you are well, know that I miss you every day.
Your loving son,
Diego
Taking the letter he pulled on his jacket and headed for the street.
October 23rd, 1817
My dear son,
I hope you are well settled into Madrid. I received your letter of August fifteenth and am glad to hear that you have found some companions with whom you can be friendly. I am also pleased that your course of study will require both French and German. I know that your mother attempted to instruct you in French and I know she would have wanted you to learn even more than she could teach you. She would be so proud of you right now, it was her dream that you would study at university in Spain.
I hope you are making her proud in your lifestyle as well by attending mass regularly and not making yourself a stranger to confession. She would be very disappointed if you were to grow slack in your moral character. She would want you to enjoy yourself, but also to temper your enjoyments so they do not end up harming you. She would want you to live well and respectably.
I hope to hear more of your impressions of Spain and the university. I eagerly await your letters.
Your loving father,
Alejandro
Alejandro reread the letter carefully, squinting a little. His eyesight for reading was not so good anymore, but he was loathe to purchase spectacles. He realized that he had spoken of Diego's mother quite a lot, writing "She would want" several times. He supposed he really should have written "I want" instead.
Folding the letter he sealed it. He imagined his son was spending every day among friends, going to taverns and sporting events. Frequenting parks and clubs and the like. Diego was easygoing and friendly, he was sure to be one of the most popular boys in his class.
Quickly addressing the letter Alejandro stood and walked around the sala as he waited for the ink to dry. Each passing day made the place feel bigger and emptier. Taking up his letter and his hat he decided he would go into town, it was certainly more pleasant to pass the time there than to rattle around deathly quiet hacienda.
October 31st, 1817
Dear Papá,
I have received your letter of August tenth and will pass on your greetings to all the family. I write to them often and they will be glad to hear of you. I am glad to hear of you too. Yes, all of my lectures have been underway for some time now. We have just finished mid term examinations and I am even now waiting for the results. I expect to place well, but I doubt I will be the top. There are many here far more clever than I who have had the most rigorous schooling their entire lives. If I can maintain a place decently near the top that will be enough for me.
I miss California. I hope that the cattle business is going well. As I look through my diary each day I try to imagine what must be happening in the pueblo. You must include more details about home in your letters. Tell me everything. I dream about Los Angeles often. I can see the hills around our hacienda in my mind's eye even as I write this. Spain does not have hills half as pleasing as those near home. I do not know how I will make it through four years without my beloved hills and wild country.
I hope you are taking good care of yourself.
Your loving son,
Diego.
Diego had just finished preparing the letter for the post when the door to his room flung open.
"There you are, Diego, come join us!"
Diego smiled, momentarily forgetting the gnawing misery of homesickness. "Where am I to join you, Miguel?"
"On the dueling grounds, of course. Two of the upperclassmen will be squaring off in a few minutes, we must not miss it." Miguel came into the room, hustling Diego to make himself presentable.
Diego quickly donned his jacket and found a tie and the two boys hurried to observe the appointed duel.
November 27th, 1817
My dear son,
I received your note of September twentieth.
Alejandro put his pen back into the inkwell. Diego's letter had been so brief, he wasn't entirely sure what to say in response. He could tell his son was experiencing some sorrow, but he didn't know how to comfort him. Taking up the pen he added another line.
I hope you can find some happiness in the country your mother loved.
Once again he put the quill into the well. He had no words to console Diego, certainly not ones that could do so with them so many miles apart. It had been a hard loss for him when his own mother had passed, Diego was so much younger than he had been. Diego had also been far closer to his mother than Alejandro had been to his own. He couldn't fathom exactly what his son was feeling.
Picking up his pen again he wrote:
Try to be strong. I miss you and count the days till your return.
Your loving father,
Alejandro
Alejandro had no better way to say it. He worried that Diego might be sad or lonely in Madrid. Alejandro had no way to help him except to say "be strong." He worried that it wouldn't be enough. Finishing the letter he found one of the servants and sent them to town to post it. He hoped another letter from Diego would come very soon showing that he was in much improved spirits.
February 8th, 1818
Dear Papá,
I hope this reaches you before your birthday but I'm afraid it might be a bit late. I wish you happiness on your birthday and I cannot wait until I can celebrate with you in person.
The semester has begun well and I have become very involved in the athletics here at the university. They provide a comfortable distraction during those times when I am not studying. The fencing teams here are quite active as well, and many of the fellows in my class are on it.
Diego hesitated, not sure if he should tell his father that he had joined the fencing team as well. Even as a first year student he was progressing in the sport quite quickly. He knew his father would be proud of his accomplishments athletically as well as scholastically, but he was sure his father would also worry if he told him he had taken up fencing. It was always the students on the fencing team that found themselves in duels every week. So many young men with lethal skills were bound to come to trouble.
Deciding against telling him just yet he wrote:
Tell me about home. I miss it very much. I feel as though I am forgetting how everything looks. Is the pueblo still the same? What about the alcalde? Is Padre Felipe in good health? What about my friends, do you have any news of them? I try to write them but the letters come so infrequently.
"Diego de la Vega!" a harsh voice called from the doorway of his room.
Diego turned in his chair to see Ramón Castillo leaning against the door frame. "Ramón!" Diego said with a smile, "What brings you here?"
"I came to fetch you, the fencing team is giving an exhibition at the palace and we are to practice every waking hour until then." Ramón ran his palm over the hilt of his sword. "I was told just now so I came to let you know."
"I am all but finished here, I will be with you presently." Turning back to the letter he wrote:
I must go quickly now. I extend my love to you on your birthday. Write me soon.
Your loving son,
Diego
Sealing and addressing the letter Diego retrieved his sword and he and Ramón left his quarters. "When is this exhibition at the palace?" Diego asked as he buckled on his sword.
"In three weeks, you must practice extra so that you don't embarrass the university with your rustic style."
"I think my 'rusitc style' will be the least of the universities worries if you are to be at the exhibition."
Ramón laughed and slapped Diego on the back. "Then we must both endeavor to do the university proud."
April 13th, 1818
My dear son,
Thank you for the birthday wishes, I missed you very much. I hope you are well and your studies are progressing nicely.
I am glad you have found some comrades among the other boys at the university and I am glad you are not idle in your free time. The athletics will be good for you. I encourage you to take up fencing if you have the inclination. It is a worthy skill for a man.
Alejandro stopped to picture his son fencing. He was sure his tall, graceful son would cut a dashing figure on the dueling grounds. He then had an image of his son being injured or killed on said grounds because he had been provoked into a pointless fight.
If you do take up fencing I want you to avoid duels at all costs. Most of the time they are pointless and only end up causing harm rather than satisfying honor.
Looking at what he just wrote, Alejandro wrinkled his nose, he didn't mean that either.
But do not be afraid to defend yourself either. You are from a proud line and should not be shy about defending it. Be bold and brave, but do not provoke others.
Alejandro was satisfied with that addition. He hoped Diego would have enough sense to not provoke pointless disputes but be bold enough to defend his honor.
Everyone in the pueblo is well. It is very quiet here, just as it was before you left. All are in good health and there are no problems to speak of. The del Toro family has decided to move to Mexico City so they have sold their hacienda and all their lands. Don Cornelio and myself have each bought half of their rancho and our lands are increased by many acres. The hacienda now stands empty on Don Cornelio's portion, but he has indicated that he will put it to some use.
Alejandro looked at the paragraph. He couldn't imagine that Diego would be the slightest bit interested in such boring news.
I hope to hear from you again soon. Tell me all that has happened.
Your loving father,
Alejandro
Sealing the letter Alejandro set it with others that he intended to post later that morning. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was close to five o'clock in the morning and normally he would still be asleep, but he had woken in the night and had gotten to thinking about Diego and his mind would not let him rest. It had been a year since Diego left and he felt the absence acutely.
"Is everything alright, Patrón?"
Alejandro turned to see his servant Juan standing at the door to the sala.
"Sí, Juan, I just could not sleep so I came to finish some letters."
Juan nodded. "If you need anything I am nearby."
"Gracias," said Alejandro. He appreciated that Juan was attentive and tried to look out for him, even more so since Diego had left. While Juan was a good servant he was hardly a replacement for family. He felt his son's absence more sharply with each passing day. He looked at the stack of letters on his desk and wondered what his son was doing at this very moment. Three more years could not pass soon enough.