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Title: Life in Mexico
Author: Frances Calderón De La Barca
Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9364]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on September 25, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN MEXICO ***
Produced by Charles Franks, Marvin A. Hodges
and PG Distributed Proofreaders
EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY
664
TRAVEL & TOPOGRAPHY
Everyman, I will go with thee, and be thy guide,
In thy most need to go by thy side.
FRANCES CALDERON DE LA BARCA, born in Edinburgh, 1804, the daughter of
William Inglis. After her father's death she settled in America, where she
married the Spanish diplomat, Don Angel Calderon de la Barca. She
accompanied him on his various appointments to Mexico, Washington, and
finally to Madrid, where she was created Marquesa de Calderon de la Barca
by Alfonso XII and died in 1882.
FRANCES CALDERON DE LA BARCA
LIFE IN MEXICO
INTRODUCTION BY MANUEL ROMERO DE TERREROS MARQUES DE SAN FRANCISCO
First published 1843
INTRODUCTION
In the year 1843, two new books took the American public by storm: one was
Prescott's _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, and the other _Life in
Mexico_ by Madame Calderon de la Barca. William Hickling Prescott was
already known as an able historian on account of his scholarly _Reign of
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain_ which had appeared four years before and
elicited praise from all quarters; but his new work outran the former in
that the author had succeeded in depicting one of the most stirring
episodes of history with the grandeur of an epic and the interest of a
novel.
It was therefore natural that a book with Prescott's endorsement should be
favourably received by the general public; but _Life in Mexico_
immediately attained wide circulation on its own merits, and was received
with unbounded enthusiasm. Soon the slight veil that pretended to hide the
author's name was drawn aside and Madame Calderon de la Barca became
famous in literary and social circles.
Frances Erskine Inglis was born in Edinburgh in the year 1804. Her father,
William Inglis, belonged to a distinguished Scottish family, related to
the Earls of Buchan, and was a grandson of a gallant Colonel Gardiner who
fell in the battle of Prestonpans, while her mother, a Miss Stern before
her marriage, was a celebrated beauty of her time.
Fanny, as Frances was familiarly called, was still very young when her
father found himself in financial difficulties and decided to retire with
his family to Normandy where living was supposed to be cheaper. But
William Inglis died a few years later, and his widow determined to settle
in America. In the United States Mrs. Inglis established a private school
first in Boston, later in Staten Island, and finally in Baltimore, and her
daughter was a great help, for she immediately revealed herself as an
excellent teacher. Besides, Fanny became a great friend of Ticknor,
Lowell, Longfellow, and especially of Prescott, who thought her "ever
lively and _spirituelle_."
In 1836 a Special Diplomatic Mission from Spain arrived at Washington, and
at its head came Don Angel Calderon de la Barca, a gentleman of high
social standing and an accomplished man of letters, who, naturally enough,
soon established literary relations with William Prescott, then at work on
his _History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella_. In this connection
he became acquainted with many of Prescott's friends, the Inglis ladies
among others, and the result was that he fell in love with the
accomplished Fanny, and married her in 1838. Shortly afterwards Don Angel
was appointed Isabel II's Minister to Mexico, the first Spanish Envoy to
the young Republic that had formerly been the Kingdom of New Spain. The
newly married couple, accordingly, started on their journey to Mexico,
which was destined to be a long one, even for those days, for they left
New York on October 27th and did not reach their destination until the
26th of the following December.
Calderon's mission to Mexico lasted somewhat more than two years, during
which time he and his wife, says Prescott, "lived much at their ease," and
"were regaled _en prince_." In spite of Don Angel's delicate diplomatic
duties and her own frequent social engagements and strenuous excursions,
Fanny Inglis Calderon found time to write almost daily letters, most of
them of considerable length, to relatives and friends. These letters
constituted the basis of the present book when they were collected and
published--with certain necessary omissions--simultaneously in London and
Boston in 1843, under the title of _Life in Mexico during a Residence of
Two Years in that Country_. The book was provided with a short but
substantial Preface by Prescott.
That same year saw Don Angel Calderon de la Barca transferred to
Washington as Spanish Minister, a post in which he not only discharged his
diplomatic duties with much ability, but also frequented the literary
circles and even found time to translate several works into Spanish.
In 1853 Calderon was recalled to Spain by his government and arrived at
Madrid on September 17th with his wife, who had recently become a
Catholic. A year later, he was appointed Minister of State in the Cabinet
of the Conde de San Luis, and thus became an actor in the troubled drama
of that period of Isabel II's reign. When finally the unpopularity of the
government culminated in a general rebellion, Calderon managed to escape
the unjust fury of the rabble by hiding first in the Austrian, and later
in the Danish Legation, until he was able to cross the frontier and take
refuge in France. The events that Madame Calderon had witnessed in Spain
moved her to write that entertaining book _The Attache in Madrid_, which,
pretending to be a translation from the German, appeared in New York in
1856.
The Calderons were able to return to Spain after an absence of two years,
but in 1861 Don Angel died at San Sebastian, just when he was expecting to
move to a small villa which was being built for him nearby in picturesque
Zarauz. Hard upon this event Madame Calderon retired to a convent across
the Pyrenees, but shortly afterwards Queen Isabel asked her to come back
and take charge of the education of her eldest daughter, the Infanta
Isabel, a request which, though at first respectfully declined, was
finally accepted by her. From that time on Madame Calderon became the
constant companion of the Infanta Isabel, until the latter's marriage to
the Count of Girgenti in 1868. She then returned to the United States, but
only for a comparatively short time, for as soon as Alfonso XII came to
the throne, Madame Calderon went back to Spain and was created by him
Marquesa de Calderon de la Barca. Thenceforward she led a very quiet life
until her death, in the Royal Palace of Madrid, on February 3rd, 1882.
Any radical change in the form of government is liable to be accompanied
by disorders, and this is even more likely to be true in a country like
Mexico, which has become famous for its frequent political troubles and
has been aptly called "a land of unrest." In the eighteen-forties the
country witnessed many plans, "pronunciamientos" and revolutions, which
could not escape the vigilant mind of Madame Calderon, who often refers to
them with a spice of delicate satire and irony which is not unkindly.
After the long period of peaceful if unexciting viceregal rule, the
government of the new republic had become the prey of political groups,
headed by men who coveted the presidency chiefly impelled by a "vaulting
ambition" which, in most cases "overleapt itself." Madame Calderon drew
faithful portraits of many of the politicians of those days, not stinting
her praise to such men of honour as Bustamante, nor hiding her sympathy
towards the much reviled Santa Anna.
Naturally, as the wife of the Spanish Minister, she feels occasionally
bound to dwell somewhat disparagingly upon the existing state of things,
as compared with the excellences of the former viceregal regime. Thus, on
visiting the older cities and establishments, she lays stress on the great
benefits that the Mother Country had bestowed on her Colonies, an opinion
that, she states, was shared by the most distinguished persons in Mexico,
who missed the advantages of the days of yore: "I fear we live in a
Paradise Lost," she exclaims, "which will not be regained in our days!"
But this does not mean to say that she withholds praise where praise is
due. On more than one occasion she extols the valour of a soldier, the
talent of a Minister like Cuevas, or the honesty and clearsightedness of a
politician like Gutierrez de Estrada; and when she refers to the rivalry
that arose between the different parties, she has unbounded praises for
the cadets of the Military School, for their patriotic conduct and their
loyalty to the legally established government.
In Madame Calderon's time the Mexican upper classes were an extension, so
to speak, of the old viceregal society. Only the very young had not seen
the Spanish flag flying over the public buildings or had not been more or
less acquainted with the last viceroys. The presidential receptions of a
Bustamante or a Santa Anna in the National Palace, just as during the
short reign of Augustin I de Iturbide, were ablaze with brilliant
uniforms, glittering decorations, fine dresses, and rich jewels, while at
private parties the old family names and titles continued to be borne with
the prestige of former colonial days.
On the other hand, the relations between lord and servant are faithfully
portrayed by Madame Calderon de la Barca. Speaking of life in a
_hacienda_, she describes how the lady of the house sat at the piano,
while the employees and servants performed the typical dances of the
country for the benefit of guests and relatives, without suggesting any
idea of equality or disrespect, more or less in the fashion of the Middle
Ages, when the lord and the lady of the manor sat at table with their
servants, though the latter remained rigorously below the salt. With
regard to the lower classes, Madame Calderon always sees the picturesque
side of things which she describes vividly and colourfully.
It is to be regretted (particularly from a Mexican point of view) that
Fanny Inglis, or her editor, should have thought it expedient only to give
the first and last letters of the names of the more prominent persons of
whom she speaks, a system which makes it difficult for a reader of later
days to identify them, except in one or two cases. Many were the intimate
friends of the Calderons, but especially the Conde de la Cortina, a well-
known figure in society and in literary and scientific circles, the
Marques and Marquesa de Vivanco, and the "Guera Rodriguez," (the "Fair
Rodriguez"), a celebrated beauty of her time, who is said to have been
greatly admired by no less a person than Alexander von Humboldt himself!
Naturally enough, Madame Calderon was a competent judge of her own sex and
was alert to the good qualities as well as to the foibles of the ladies of
Mexico, whose excessive fondness for diamonds and, in some cases, too
showy dresses elicit her mild criticism.
Monastic life was one of the features of Mexico at that time. Most cities,
large and small, were full of churches, monasteries, and convents; and
Madame Calderon (who became a Catholic three years later) was not then
well acquainted with the ceremonies and liturgy of the Church, and
consequently falls into many errors on the subject; but when she describes
her visit to a convent and the ceremony of the veiling of a nun, she
writes some of her most picturesque and touching pages.
Madame Calderon does not stint her admiration for the great buildings of
the country, both civil and religious, though her descriptions betray only
too often the influence of the romantic age in which she lived.
Beautiful indeed as is her description of a garden in Tulancingo, she
rises to real eloquence before some of "Nature's pageants," admiring a
sunset over the Monastery of San Fernando, walking under the shade of the
centennial trees of Chapultepec, or wandering within the gigantic Caverns
of Cacahuamilpa, the recollection of which, she says, "rests upon the
mind, like a marble dream," and where an unfortunate traveller, years
before, had lost his way and met a tragic death.
Prescott's statement that Madame Calderon's letters were not intended
originally for publication seems hardly credible; but, on the other hand,
there is no proof for the suggestion that she had the letters of Madame
D'Aulnoy in mind. Be that as it may, the fact is that just as the French
Countess has left us a living picture of Spain in the late seventeenth
century, in the same way the wife of the Spanish Minister drew a most
faithful pen-portrait of the social, political, and even economic order,
in Mexico in the early nineteenth.
As to Madame Calderon de la Barca's personal appearance, since a portrait
of her, which is said to exist in the possession of a relative, has never
been published, the reader is free to imagine that lively lady as it may
best suit his or her individual fancy. That she was clever, well-read, and
an excellent judge of character, as well as a true lover of nature and a
keen observer of manners and customs, is evident in her letters, which
constitute by common consent a most entertaining and truly delectable
narrative, which even the lapse of more than a century has not been able
to mar.
MANUEL ROMERO DE TERREROS, Marques de San Francisco.
REFERENCES
_History of the Conquest of Mexico with the Life of the Conqueror Hernando
Cortes, and a view of the Ancient Mexican Civilization_. New York, Harper
& Bros., 1843.
_Life in Mexico, During a Residence of Two Years in That Country_, by
Madame Calderon de la Barca, with a Preface by W. H. Prescott, author of
The History of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, 1843.
_The Attaché in Madrid; or, Sketches of the Court of Isabella II_,
translated from the German, New York, 1856.
_Prescott Unpublished Letters to Gayangos in the Library of the Hispanic
Society of America_, edited with notes by Clara Louisa Penney, New York,
1927.
CONTENTS
GLOSSARY
LETTER THE FIRST
Departure of the "Norma"--Last look of New York Bay--Fellow passengers--
Contrary Winds--Deceitful Appearances--Sunset in Southern Latitudes--Seas
passed over by Columbus--Varied Occupations on Shipboard--Berry Islands--
Bahama Banks--Evening in a Tropical Sea--L. E. L.--Pan of Matanzas--Morro
Castle--Bay of Havana--Arrival--Handsome House in Havana--Sights and
Sounds
LETTER THE SECOND
Havana Aristocracy--Lucia di Lammermoor--La Rossi and Montresor--Brig-of-
war--Countess de V---a--Dinner at H---a's--Southerly Winds--View from the
Balcony--_Quinta_ of Count V---a--San Cristobal--Mass at San Felipe--Erard
Harp--Dinner at General M---o's--A Dessert at Havana--Queen of Spain's
Birthday--Dinner at the Yntendencia--La Pantanelli--Theatre of Tacon--
Railroad--Cure by Lightning--Shops--Ball at the Countess F---a's Last
Visit--Souvenirs
LETTER THE THIRD
Departure in the Jason--Spanish Captain and Officers--Life on board a Man-
of-War--"_Balances_"--Fishing--"_Le Petit Tambour_"--Cocoa-nuts--A
_Norte_--Spanish Proverb--Peak of Orizava--Theory and Practice--_Norte
Chocolatero_--Contrary Winds--Chain of Mountains--Goleta
LETTER THE FOURTH
Distant View of Vera Cruz--Pilots--Boat from the City--Mutual Salutes--
Approach to Vera Cruz--Crowd on the Wharf--House of Don Dionisio V---o--
Guard of Honour--German Piano--Supper--Madonna--Aspect of the City--
_Sopilotes_--Deliberations--General Guadalupe Victoria--Two-headed Eagle--
Dilapidated Saint--Harp--Theatre--Doña Innocencia Martinez--Invitation
from General Santa Anna
LETTER THE FIFTH
Departure from Vera Cruz--Sandhills--Oriental Scene--Manga de Clavo--
General Santa Anna--Breakfast--Escort and Diligence--Santa Fe--Puente
Nacional--Bridge sketched by Mrs. Ward--Country in December--Don Miguel--
First Impressions--Fruit--Plan del Rio--German Musicians--Sleeping
Captain--Approach to Jalapa--Appearance of the City--Cofre de Perote--
Flowers--House and Rock--Last View of Jalapa--Change of Scenery--San
Miguel de los Soldados--Perote-Striking Scene before Day-break--Non-
arrival of Escort--Yankee Coachman Dispute--Departure--Company of Lancers
--Alcalde--Breakfast at La Ventilla--Pulque--Double Escort--Crosses--
Brigand-looking Tavern-keeper--Ojo de Agua-Arrival at Puebla-Dress of the
Peasants--Christmas-eve-Inn-"_Nacimiento_"
LETTER THE SIXTH
Departure from Puebla--Chirimoyas--Rio Frio--Indian Game--Black Forest--
Valley of Mexico--Recollections of Tenochtitlan--Mexican Officer--
Reception--Scenery--Variety of Dresses--Cheers--Storm of Rain--Entry to
Mexico--Buenavista--House by Daylight--Sights from the Windows--Visits--
Mexican Etiquette--Countess C---a--Flowers in December--Serenade--
Patriotic Hymn
LETTER THE SEVENTH
Début in Mexico--Cathedral--Temple of the Aztecs--Congregation--Stone of
Sacrifices--Palace--Importunate Léperos--Visit to the President--Countess
C---a--Street-cries--Tortilleras--_Sartor Resartus_
LETTER THE EIGHTH
Ball in Preparation--Agreeable Family--Fine Voices--Theatre--Smoking-
Castle of Chapultepec--Viceroy Galvez--Montezuma's Cypress--Vice-Queen--
Valley of Mexico--New Year's Day--Opening of Congress--Visits from the
Diplomatic Corps--Poblana Dress--"Función extraordinaria"--Theatre--Visit
to the Cathedral of Guadalupe--Divine Painting--Bishop--Beggars--
Mosquitoes Eggs
LETTER THE NINTH
Visits from Spaniards--Visit from the President--Disquisition--Poblana
Dress--Bernardo the Matador--Bull-fight extraordinary--Plaza de Toros--
Fireworks--Portrait of C---n--Fancy Ball--Dress-Costume of the
Patronesses--Beauty in Mexico--Doctor's Visit--Cards of _faire part_--
Marquesa de San Roman--Toilet in Morning Visits of Ceremony--Attempt at
Robbery--Murder of a Consul--La Gúera Rodriguez--Dr. Plan--M. de Humboldt
--Anecdote--Former Customs
LETTER THE TENTH
San Fernando--House of Perez de Galvez--A Removal--Size of the Houses--Old
Monastery--View by Sunset--Evening Visits--Mexican Etiquette--A Night--
view from the Azotea-Tacubaya--Magueys--Making of Pulque--Organos and
Nopal--Environs of Mexico--Miracle--Hacienda--View from the Countess C---
a's House--Arzobispado--Anecdote--Comparative View of Beauty--Indians--
Rancheritas--Mexican Cordiality--Masses for the Dead--San Agustin--Form of
Invitation--Death of a Senator--A Mistake
LETTER THE ELEVENTH
Calle de Tacuba--The Leap of Alvarado--The "Noche Triste"--Sale of a
Curate's Goods--Padre Leon--Leprosy--Pictures--The Annunciation--The
Alameda--Paseo de Bucarelli--The Viga--Indians in Canoes--A Murder--A
Country Fête--Visit to the Colegia Vizcaino--The Jota Arragonesa--Old
Soldiers
LETTER THE TWELFTH
The Viga during the Carnival--Variety of Equipages--The Millionaires--The
Monks--Masked Ball--An Alarming Sight--Medical Students--Dinner at the
Prussian Minister's--Rides on Horseback--Indian Love of Flowers--Santa
Anita--The Chinampas--Their Origin--Indians in Canoes--Song of "El
Palomo"--Fighting--The Great Lakes--The Drain of Huehuetoca--The Great
Market of Tlatelolco
LETTER THE THIRTEENTH
Convent of San Joaquin--Mexico in the Morning--Tacuba--Carmelite Prior--
Convent Garden--Hacienda of Los Morales--El Olivar--A _Huacamaya_--
Humming-birds--Correspondence--Expected Consecration--Visit to the
Mineria--Botanic Garden--Arbol de las Manitas--The Museum--Equestrian
Statue--Academy of Painting and Sculpture--Disappointment
LETTER THE FOURTEENTH
Palm Sunday--Holy Thursday--Variety of Costumes--San Francisco--Santa
Domingo--Santa Teresa--Nuns--Stone Bust--The Academy--Religious
Procession--Pilgrimage to the Churches--Santa Clara--Nun's Voice--Orange-
trees and Rose-bushes--The Cathedral Illuminated--Our Saviour in Chains--
Good Friday--The Great Square towards Evening--Dresses of Men, Women, and
Children--Approach of the Host--Judas--Great Procession--_Miserere_--The
Square by Moonlight--A Lonely Walk--_Sabado de Gloria_--Ball in
Contemplation--Weekly Soirées--Embroidered Muslins--A Tertulia at Home
LETTER THE FIFTEENTH
Letter from the Archbishop--Visit to the "_Encarnación_"--Reception--
Description--The Novices--Convent Supper--Picturesque Scene--Sonata on the
Organ--Attempt at Robbery--Alarms of the Household--Visit to San Agustin--
Anonymous Letter--The Virgin _de los Remedios_--Visit to the Chapel--The
Padre--The Image--Anecdote of the Large Pearl--A Mine
LETTER THE SIXTEENTH
Mexico in May--Leave Mexico for Santiago--Coach of Charles X.--Mexican
Travelling--General Aspect of the Country--Village of Santa Clara--
Robbers' House--Temples of the Sun and Moon--San Juan--Mexican Posada--
School-house--Skulls--Hard Fare--Travelling Dress--Sopayuca--Military
Administrador--Santiago--Matadors and Picadors--Evenings in the Country--
Dances--Mexican Songs--Cempoala--Plaza de Toros--Skill of the Horsemen--
Omatusco--Accident--Tulansingo--Beautiful Garden--Mexican Dishes--Fruits--
Horses--Games of Forfeits--Ranchera's Dress--Young Girls and their
Admirers--Verses--Knowledge of Simple Medicine--Indian Baths--Hidden
Treasures--Anecdote
LETTER THE SEVENTEENTH
Arrival at Tepenacasco--Lake with Wild-ducks--Ruined Hacienda--Sunset on
the Plains--Troop of Asses--Ride by Moonlight--Leave Tepenacasco--San
Miguel--Description--Thunderstorm--Guasco--Journey to Real del Monte--
English Road--Scenery--Village of Real--Count de Regla--Director's House--
English Breakfast--Visit to the Mines--Mining Speculations--Grand Scenery
--Visit to Regla--The Cascade--The Storm--Loneliness--A Journey in Storm
and Darkness--Return to Tepenacasco--Journey to Sopacuya--Narrow Escape--
Famous Bull--Return to Mexico
LETTER THE EIGHTEENTH
English Ball--Dresses--Diamonds--Mineria--Arrival of the Pope's Bull--
Consecration of the Archbishop--Foreign Ministers--Splendour of the
Cathedral--Description of the Ceremony
LETTER THE NINETEENTH
Mexican Servants--Anecdotes--Remedies--An unsafe Porter--Galopinas--The
Reboso--The Sarape--Women-cooks--Foreign Servants--Characteristics of
Mexican Servants--Servants' Wages--Nun of the Santa Teresa--Motives for
Taking the Veil
LETTER THE TWENTIETH
The Convent Entry--Dialogue--A Chair in Church--Arrival of the Nun--Dress
--José Maria--Crowd--Withdrawal of the Black Curtain--The Taking of the
Veil--The Sermon--A Dead Body--Another Victim--Convent of the Encarnación
--Attempt at a Hymn--Invitation--Morning Visit--The Nun and her Mother--
Banquet--Taking Leave--Ceremony of the Veil-taking--A Beautiful Victim--
The Last Look--Presentation to the Bishop--Reflections--Verses
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIRST
San Agustin--The Gambling Fête--The Beauties of the Village--The Road from
Mexico--Entry to San Agustin--The Gambling Houses--San Antonio--The
Pedregal--Last Day of the Fête--The Cockpit--The Boxes--The Cock-fight--
Decorum--Comparisons--Dinner--Ball at Calvario--House of General Moran--
View of the Gambling Tables--The Advocate--Ball at the Plaza de Gallos--
Return to Mexico--Reflections--Conversation between two Ministers
LETTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
Countess C---a--Gutierrez Estrada--Dinner at General Moran's--Dowager
Marquesa--Fête at San Antonio--Approach of the Rainy Season--Diamonds and
Plate--Great Ball--Night Traveling--Severe Storm--Chapter of Accidents--
Corpus Christ!--Poblana Dress--Book Club--Ball--Humming Bird--Franciscan
Friar--Missions to Old and New California--Zeal and Endurance of the
Missionaries--Present Condition--Convent Gardener
LETTER THE TWENTY-THIRD
The President--Yturbide--Visit from the Archbishop--Señor Canedo--General
Almonte--Señor Cuevas--Situation of an Archbishop in Mexico--Of Señor
Posada--His Life--Mexican Charity--Wax Figures--Anecdote--Valuable
Present--Education--Comparison--Schools--Opportunities--Natural Talent--
Annual--Compliments to the Mexican Ladies by the Editor--Families of the
Old School--Morals--Indulgence--Manners--Love of Country--Colleges
LETTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH
Revolution in Mexico--Gomez Farias and General Urrea--The Federalists--The
President Imprisoned--Firing--Cannon--First News--Escape--Proclamation of
the Government--Cannonading--Count C---a--Houses Deserted--Countess del
V---e--Proclamation of the Federalists--Circular of the Federalists--
Scarcity of Provisions--Bursting of a Shell--Refugees--Dr. Plan--Young
Lady Shot--Gomez Farias--Rumours--Address of Gomez Farias--Balls and
Bullets--Visit from the ----- Minister--Arrival of Monsieur de -------
Expected Attack--Skirmish--Appearance of the Street--San Cosme--General--
The Count de B------ More Rumours--Suspense--Cannonading--Government
Bulletin--Plan of the Rebels Defeated--Proclamation of the President--Of
General Valencia--Maternal Affection--Fresh Reports--Families leaving the
City--Letter from Santa Anna--Bustamante's Letter when imprisoned--
Propositions--Refusal--Taoubaya--Archbishop--Fresh Proposals--Refusal--
Second Letter from Santa Anna--Government Bulletin--Proclamations--An
awkward Mistake--The Archbishop visits the President--Conclusion of the
Revolution--Government Newspapers--Circulars
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH
Plan of the Federalists--Letter from Farias--Signing of Articles--
Dispersion of the "Pronunciados"--Conditions--Orders of General Valencia--
Of the Governor--Address of General Valencia--Departure of our Guests--The
_Cosmopolita_--State of the Palace and Streets--Bulletin of the Firing--
Interior of Houses--Escape of Families--Conduct of the Troops--Countess
del V---e-- Santa Anna--Congress--Anecdote--Discussion in Congress--Leprosy
LETTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH
Visitors--Virgin de los Remedies--_Encarnación_--Fears of the Nuns--Santa
Teresa--Rainy Season--Amusing Scene--"_Está a la disposición de V._"--
Mexican Sincerity--Texian Vessels--Fine Hair--Schoolmistress--Climate--Its
Effects--Nerves--_Tours de Force_--Anniversary--Speech--Paseo--San Angel--
Tacubaya--Army of "The Three Guarantees"--Plan of Yguala--A Murder--Indian
Politeness--Drunkenness--Señor Canedo--Revolutions in Mexico--The Penon--
The Baths--General ------- --Situation and View--Indian Family--Of the
Boiling Springs--Capabilities--Solitude--Chapultepec--The _Desagravios_--
Penitence at San Francisco--Discipline of the Men--Discourse of the Monk--
Darkness and Horrors--Salmagundi
LETTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH
Fête-day--Friendly Hint--Precautions--General Tranquillity--President in
San Agustin--Revisit Museum--Ancient Manuscripts--Sculpture--Bronze Bust,
etc.--Freshness after Rain--Ball at the French Minister's--Pamphlet--
Gutierrez Estrada--His Character--Concealment--_Mexicalsingo_--Minister of
the Treasury--Archbishop's Permission--Paintings--Mexican Painters--Santa
Teresa--Description of the Interior--The Penitences--Tortures--
Disciplines, etc.--Supper--Profane Ballads--Monasteries--San Francisco--
Padre Prior--Soldiers and Friars
LETTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH
_día de Muertos_--Leave Mexico--_Herraderos_--San Cristobal--Tunas--Plaza
de Toros--Throwing the _Laso_--Accidents--Rustic Breakfast--Country Fare--
Baked Meat--Indian Market--Buried Bull--Mountain--Solitary _Hacienda_--
_Reyes_--Mules marked--Return--Queen of Spain's Birthday--Diplomatic
Dinner
LETTER THE TWENTY-NINTH
Virgin of _Cavadonga_--Santo Domingo--Decorations and Music--
Daguerreotype--Weekly Soirées--An Arrival--An Earthquake--Honourable Mr.
----- --Broken Furniture--_Dios_--Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe--Party to
the _Desierto_--_Itzcuintepotzotli_--Inn of _Guajimalco_--Ruined Convent--
Its Origin--_Dejeune a la Fourchette_--Splendid Scenery--Vow to the
Virgin--Musical Mass--Tacuba--Ride with the Prior
LETTER THE THIRTIETH
Christmas-day--Kalends and Mass--Amateur Performances--Solo--_Posadas_--
Wandering of the Holy Family--_Nacimiento_--Crowded Party--French Cooks--
Mexican Cook--State of Household--New Year's Day--Mass--Dirtiness of the
Churches, etc.--Comparisons--Private Chapels--English Club--Preparations
for Journey
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIRST
Leave Mexico--Cuernavaca--_Tierra Caliente_--_Atlacamulco_--Orange Groves
--Sugar-cane--Annual Produce--Will of Cortes--Description--Coffee
Plantation--Scorpions--List of Venomous Reptiles--_Aspansingo_--Doubts and
Difficulties--A Decision
LETTER THE THIRTY-SECOND
Leave _Atlacamulco_--Assemble by Starlight--Balmy Atmosphere--Flowers and
Trees of the Tropics--The Formidable _Barrancas_--Breakfast under the
Trees--Force of the Sun--_Meacatlan_--Hospitality--Profitable Estate--
Leave Meacatlan--Beautiful Village--Musical Bells--Ride by Moonlight--
Sugar Fires--Cocoyotla--Old Gentleman--Supper--Orange-trees and Cocoas--
Delicious Water--Sugar Estates--_A Scorpion_--Set off for the Cave--
Morning Ride--Dangerous Path
LETTER THE THIRTY-THIRD
Cave of _Cacahuamilpa_--Superstition--Long-bearded Goat--Portal--
Vestibule--Fantastic Forms--Breakfast--Pine Torches--Noble Hall--
Stalactites and Stalagmites--Egyptian Pyramids--Double Gallery--Wonderful
Formations--Corridor--Frozen Landscape--Amphitheatre--World in Chaos--
Skeleton--Wax Lights--Hall of Angels--Return--Distant Light--Indian
Alcalde--_Cautlamilpas_--Rancho--Return to Cocoyotla--Chapel--Meacatlan--
Eclipse of the Moon--Benighted Travellers--Indian Village--_El Puente_--
Return to _Atlacamulco_
LETTER THE THIRTY-FOURTH
Ride by Starlight--Fear of Robbers--Tropical Wild Flowers--Stout Escort--
_Hautepec_--Hacienda of _Cocoyoc_--A Fire--Three Thousand Orange-trees--
Coffee Mills, etc.--Variety of Tropical Fruits--Prodigality of Nature--
_Casasano_--Celebrated Reservoir--Ride to Santa Clara--A Philosopher--A
Scorpion--Leave Santa Clara--Dangerous _Barranca_--_Colon_--Agreeable
House--Civil _Administrador_--San Nicolas--Solitude--Franciscan Friar--
Rainy Morning--Pink Turban--Arrival at _Atlisco_--Cypress--Department of
Puebla--Volcanoes--Doña Marina--Verses--_Popocatepetl_--Cholula--Great
Pyramid--Arrival at Puebla
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH
Theatre--Portmanteaus--Visitors--Houses of Puebla--Fine Arts--Paseo--Don
N. Ramos Arispe--Bishop--Cotton Factories--Don Esteban Antunano--Bank of
_Avio_--United States Machinery--Accidents--Difficulties--Shipwrecks--
Detentions--Wonderful Perseverance--"_La Constancia Mejicana_" Hospital--
Prison--El Carmen--Paintings--Painted Floors--Angels--Cathedral--Gold and
Jewels--A Comedy--Bishop's Palace--Want of Masters
LETTER THE THIRTY-SIXTH
Concert--Diligence--Leave Puebla--Escort--View from the Cathedral Towers--
Black Forest-History of the Crosses-Tales of Murder--An Alarm--Report of a
Skirmish--Rio Frio--Law Concerning Robbers--Their _Moderation_-Return to
Mexico--Carnival Ball--Improvement in Dress
LETTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH
Distinguished Men--Generals Bustamante, Santa Anna, and Victoria--
Anecdote--Señor Pedraza--Señor Gutierrez Estrada--Count Cortina--Señor
Gorostiza--Don Carlos Bustamante--"Mornings in the Alameda"--Don Andrés
Quintana Roo--Don Lucas Alaman--General Moran--General Almonte--Señor
Canedo--Señors Neri del Barrio and Casaflores--Doctor Valentin--Don
Francisco Tagle--Eight Revolutions
LETTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH
New Minister--San Angel--Profitable Pulque Estate--The Village--
Surrounding Scenery--The Indians--The Padre--The Climate--Holy Week in the
Country--Dramatic Representations--Coyohuacan--The Pharisees--Image of the
Saviour--Music and Dresses--Procession-Catholicism amongst the Indians--
Strange Tradition--Paul the Fifth--Contrast between a Mexican and a New
England Village--Love of Fireworks--Ferdinand the Seventh--Military Ball--
_Drapeaux_
LETTER THE THIRTY-NINTH
Holy Thursday at Coyohuacan--Hernan Cortes--His Last Wishes--_Padres
Camilas_-Old Church--Procession--Representation of the Taking of Christ--
Curate's Sermon under the Trees--A Religious Drama--Good Friday--Portable
Pulpit--Heat--Booths--Religious Procession--Simon the Cyrenian--Costumes--
Curate's Sermon--Second Discourse--Sentence Pronounced by Pontius Pilate--
Descent from the Cross--Procession of the Angels--Funeral Hymn--The
_Pesame_ to the Virgin--Sermon--"Sweet Kitty Clover"--Music in Mexico--
Anecdote
LETTER THE FORTIETH
Balloon--San Bartolo--Indian Women--A Beauty--Different Castes--Indians--
Their Character, etc.--Those of Noble Race--Ball at the French Minister's
--_Abecilla_--Danger of Walking Unattended--Shooting Party--A Murder--
Robbery of a Farmhouse--Discomfited Robber Captain--The "_Zambos_"--
Letters and Visitors--Country Life in Mexico
LETTER THE FORTY-FIRST
Gambling--Fête at San Agustin--Breakfast at San Antonio--Report--Cock-
fight--Ladies--Private Gambling--A _Vaca_--The _Calvario_--Bonnets--
Dinner--Evening Ball--Mingling of Classes--Copper Tables--Dresses and
Decorations--Indian Bankers, Male and Female--Decorum--Habit--Holders of
Banks--Female Gambler--Robbery--Anecdote--Bet--_Casa de Moneda_--Leave San
Angel--Celebration--Address--Cross and Diploma--Reply--Presentation of a
Sword--Discourses and Addresses--Reflections
LETTER THE FORTY-SECOND
Italian Opera--Artists, Male and Female--Prima Donna--Lucia di Lammermoor
--Some Disappointment--Second Representation--Improvement--Romeo and
Giulietta--La Ricci--La Señora Cesari--The Mint--False Coining--Repetition
of Lucia--Procession by Night--A Spanish Beauty--Discriminating Audience--
A little _too simple_--Gold Embroidery--Santiago--Pilgrims--Old Indian
Custom--Soiree--Mexico by Moonlight--Mysterious Figure--Archbishop--
Viceroy
LETTER THE FORTY-THIRD
Revillagigedo--The False Merchant and the Lady--The Viceroy, the Unjust
Spaniard, the Indian, and the Golden Ounces--Horrible Murder--Details--
Oath--Country Family--The Spot of Blood--The Mother Unknowingly Denounces
her Son--Arrest of the _Three_--Confession--Execution--The Viceroy
fulfils his Pledge--Paving of the Streets--Severity to the Monks--Solitary
Damsel--Box on the Ear--Pension--Morning Concert--New Minister-"Street of
the Sad Indian"--Traditions--A Farewell Audience--Inscription on a Tomb
LETTER THE FORTY-FOURTH
Agitation--Storm--Revolution--Manifesto--Resembling a Game of Chess--
Position of the Pieces--Appearance of the City--Firing--State of Parties--
Comparisons--"_Comicios_"--The People--Congress--Santa Anna--Amnesty
Offered--Roaring of Cannon--Proclamation--Time to _Look at Home_--The Will
of the Nation--Different Feelings--Judge's House Destroyed--The Mint in
Requisition--Preparations--Cannonading--"_Los Enanos_"
LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH
Leave Mexico--Travelling Equipage--San Xavier--Fine Hacienda--
Millionaires--Well-educated Ladies--Garden, etc.--Tlanapantla--Indian Hut
--Mrs. Ward--Doña Margarita--The _Pronunciamiento_--False Step--Santa Anna
in Puebla--Neutrality--General Paredes--President in Tlanapantla--Tired
Troops--Their March--Their Return--Curate's House--Murder--General Paredes
in the Lecheria--President in Tlanapantla--A Meeting--Return of the
President and his Troops--General Paredes and his Men--Santa Anna in
Tacubaya--A Junction--President in Mexico--_Allied Sovereigns_--Plan--
Articles--President declares for Federalism--Resigns--Results--
Hostilities--Capitulation--Triumphal Entry--_Te Deum_--New Ministry
LETTER THE FORTY-SIXTH
Santa Monica--Solidity--Old Paintings--Anachronism--Babies and Nurses from
the Cuna--Society--Funds-Plan--Indian Nurses--Carmelite Convent--Midnight
Warning--Old Villages and Churches--Indian Bath--San Mateo--The Lecheria--
Fertility--_Molino Viego_--Dulness--Religious Exercises--Return to Mexico
--Mexican Hotel--New Generals--Disturbances--General Bustamante--
Inconvenience--Abuses in the Name of Liberty--Verses--Independence
celebrated
LETTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH
Opera--Santa Anna and his Suite--His Appearance--_Belisario_--Solitary
"_Viva_!"--Brilliant House--Military Dictatorship--_San_ _Juan de Dios_--
Hospital _de Jesús_--_Cuna_--Old Woman and Baby--Different Apartments--
Acordada--Junta--Female Prisoners--Chief Crime--_Travaux Forces_--
Children--Male Prisoners--_Forçats_--Soldiers Gambling--Chapel--
Confessional--Insane Hospital--Frenchmen--Different Kinds of Insanity--
Kitchen--Dinner--Insane Monk--"Black Chamber"--Soldiers--College--Santa
Anna's Leg--Projects--All Saints--Señora P---a--Leave-takings
LETTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH
Leave Mexico--Diligence--Indian Padre--Brandy-drinking Female--Bad Roads--
Beautiful View--Escort--Good Breakfast--Crosses--Robber's Head--Select
Party--Lerma--Valley of Toluca--Hacienda--Toluca--Count de B---- and Mr.
W------The Commandant--Gay Supper--Colonel Y------Day at Toluca--Journey
to _La Gabia_--Heat and Hunger--Pleasant Quarters--Princely Estate--El
Pilar--A Zorillo--A Wolf--Long Journey--Tortillas--Count de B------State
of Michoacán--Forest Scenery--_Trojes of Angangueo_--Comfort
LETTER THE FORTY-NINTH
Leave _Trojes_--Beautiful Territory--Tarrascan Indians--Taximaroa--
Distressed Condition--An Improvement--Cold Morning--Querendaro--Fine Breed
of Horses--San Bartolo--Produce--Country Proprietors--_Colear_--Ride to
Morelia--Wild Ducks--Sunset--Cathedral Bell--Cuincho--Curates Morelos,
Matamoros, and Hidalgo--Warm Baths--Handsome Girls--Starving Travellers--
Lost Mules--Lancers--Night on a Heap of Straw--Mules Found--Tzintzontzan--
King Calsonsi--Pascuaro--Kind Reception--Bishop--Robbers--Curu--Night in a
Barn--Mountain--Uruapa--Enchanting Scenery--Pleasant Family--Jorulla
LETTER THE FIFTIETH
Indian Dresses--Saints--Music--Union of Tropical and European Vegetation--
Old Customs--Falls of the Sararaqui--Silkworms--Indian Painting--Beautiful
Heroine--Leave Uruapa--Tziracuaratiro--Talkative Indian--Alcalde's House--
Pascuaro--Old Church--Mosaic Work--The Lake--The Cave--Fried Fish--Rich
Indians--Convent--Cuincho--Darkness--Morelia--Alameda--Cathedral--Silver
--Waxworks--College--Wonderful Fleas
LETTER THE FIFTY-FIRST
San Bartolo--Mass--Markets--Rancheros--San Andrés--Insanity--Rancho--House
of Don Carlos Heimburger--Wild Scenery--German Songs--Las Millas--Leave
taking--Storm--Rainbow--El Pilar--La Gabia--Toluca--News--Copper
_Pronunciamiento_--Return to Mexico--General Moran--Funeral Obsequies--New
Theatre--_Cock's Mass_--Santa Clara--Santa Fe Prisoners--New Year
LETTER THE FIFTY-SECOND
Last Day in Mexico--Theatre--Santa Anna--French Minister's--Parting--
Diligence--Last Look of Mexico--Fatigue--Robbers--Escort--Second
Impressions--Baths at Jalapa--Vera Cruz--Some Account of San Juan de Ulua
--Siege of 1825--Siege of 1838--General Bustamante--Theatre--Of the North
Winds
LETTER THE FIFTY-THIRD
Sail in the Tyrian--Norther off Tampico--The Bar--The River Panuco--The
Pilot--The Shore--Alligator--"_Paso de Doña Cecilia_"--Tampico--Spanish
Consul's House--Society--Navigation--Banks of the Panuco--Extraordinary
Inoculation--The "_Glorieta_"--Leave Tampico--Furious Norther--Voyage--
Arrival at Havana
LETTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH
Havana--The Carnival--The Elssler--La Angosta--_Ingenio_ of Count V---a--
General Bustamante--Lord Morpeth--Leave Havana--Voyage in the Medway--Old
Friends--Return to the United States
PREFACE
The present work is the result of observations made during a two years'
residence in Mexico, by a lady, whose position there made her intimately
acquainted with its society, and opened to her the best sources of
information in regard to whatever could interest an enlightened foreigner.
It consists of letters written to the members of her own family, and,
_really_, not intended originally--however incredible the assertion--for
publication. Feeling a regret that such rich stores of instruction and
amusement, from which I have so much profited, myself, should be reserved
for the eyes of a few friends only, I strongly recommended that they should
be given to the world. This is now done, with a few such alterations and
omissions as were necessary in a private correspondence; and although the
work would derive more credit from the author's own name, than from
anything which I can say, yet as she declines prefixing it, I feel much
pleasure in making this statement by way of introduction to the public.
WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT.
Boston, December 20, 1842.
GLOSSARY
OF
SPANISH OR MEXICAN WORDS WHICH OCCUR IN THE COURSE OF THE WORK, WHICH ARE
GENERALLY EXPLAINED WHEN FIRST USED, BUT WHICH BEING REPEATED, THE READER
MIGHT FORGET AND WISH TO REFER TO.
_Administrador_-Agent.
_Alameda_-Public walk with trees.
_Aquador_-Water-carrier.
_Alacran_-Scorpion.
_Anquera_-Coating of stamped gilt leather, edged with little bells, which
covers the back of the horses.
_Arriero_-Muleteer.
_Arroba_-Spanish weight of twenty-five pounds.
_Azotea_-The flat roof of a house.
_Barranca_-Ravine.
_Botica_-Apothecary's shop.
_Calle_-Street.
_Cargadores_-Men who carry loads.
_Chinguirito_-Spirit made from sugar-cane.
_Chile_-Hot peppers.
_Compadre and Comadre_-Godfather and Godmother; names by which two persons
address each other, who have held the same child at the baptismal font, or
have been sponsors together at a marriage, etc.
_Canonigo_-Canon or prebendary.
_Comicos_-Actors.
_Camarista_-Lady of honour.
_día de Anos_-Birthday.
_Dulces_-Sweetmeats.
_Díario_-Daily newspapers.
_Frisones_-Large horses from the north.
_Función_-Solemnity-festival.
_Frijoles_-Brown beans.
_Galopina_-Kitchen-girl.
_Garbanzos_-Chick-peas _Cicer Arietinum_.
_Gachupin_-Name given to the Spaniards in Mejico.
_Garita_-City-gate.
_Goleta_-Schooner.
_Gentuza_-Rabble.
_Honras_-Funeral honours.
_Hacienda_-Country-place.
_Ingenio de Azucar_-Sugar plantation.
_Invalidos--Disabled soldiers.
_Jarro_--Earthen jar.
_Ladrones_--Robbers.
_Léperos_--Beggars, low persons.
_Litera_--Litter.
_Monte Pio_--Office where money is lent on security.
_Mezcal_--Brandy distilled from pulque.
_Manga_--Cloak made of cloth, with a hole in the middle for putting the
head through.
_Novios_--Betrothed persons.
_Nuestro Amo_--Our Master, used in speaking of the Host.
_Ojo de Agua_--Spring of water.
_Portales_--Covered portico supported by columns.
_Pulqueria_--Shop where pulque is sold.
_Paseo_--Public walk.
_Paso_--Pace, pacing.
_Padrino_--Godfather.
_Plaza_--Square.
_Patio_--Courtyard.
_Petate_--Matting.
_Poblana_--Woman of Puebla.
_Pronunciamiento_--A revolution in Mexico.
_Pronunciados_--Those who revolt.
_Rancho_--A farm.
_Ranchero_--Farmer.
_Rebozo_--A scarf that goes over the head.
_Reja_--Iron grate.
_Sopilote_--Species of carrion vulture.
_Sarape_--A woollen blanket more or less fine, with a hole for the head to
go through.
_Traspaso_--Conveyance, transfer.
_Tilma_--Indian cloak.
_Tierra caliente_--The hot land.
_Tertulia_--An evening party.
_Toreador_--Bull-fighter.
_Tortilla_--Species of thin cake.
_Tortillera_--Woman who bakes tortillas.
_Vaca_--Joint stock in gambling.
_Vomito_--Name given to the yellow fever.
_Venta_--Inn.
LIFE IN MEXICO
LETTER THE FIRST
Departure of the Norma--Last look of New York Bay--Fellow-passengers
--Contrary Winds--Deceitful Appearances--Sunset in Southern Latitudes
--Seas passed over by Columbus--Varied Occupations on Shipboard--Berry
Islands--Bahama Banks--Evening in a Tropical Sea--L. E. L.--Pan of
Matanzas--Morro Castle--Bay of Havana--Arrival--Handsome House in
Havana--Sights and Sounds.
PACKET SHIP "NORMA,"
Oct. 27th, 1839.
This morning, at ten o'clock, we stepped on board the steamboat Hercules,
destined to convey us to our packet with its musical name. The day was
foggy and gloomy, as if refusing to be comforted, even by an occasional
smile from the sun. All prognosticated that the Norma would not sail
to-day, but "where there's a will," etc. Several of our friends accompanied
us to the wharf; the Russian Minister, the Minister of Buenos Ayres,
Mr. -----, who tried hard to look sentimental, and even brought tears into
his eyes by some curious process; Judge -----, Mr. -----, and others, from
whom we were truly sorry to part.
The Norma was anchored in one of the most beautiful points of the bay, and
the steamboat towed us five miles, until we had passed the Narrows. The
wind was contrary, but the day began to clear up, and the sun to scatter
the watery clouds.
Still there is nothing so sad as a retreating view. It is as if time were
visibly in motion; and as here we had to part from -----, we could only
distinguish, as through a misty veil, the beauties of the bay; the shores
covered to the water's edge with trees rich in their autumnal colouring;
the white houses on Staten Island--the whole gradually growing fainter,
till, like a dream, they faded away.
The pilot has left us, breaking our last link with the land. We still see
the mountains of Neversink, and the lighthouse of Sandy Hook. The sun is
setting, and in a few minutes we must take our leave, probably for years,
of places long familiar to us.
Our fellow-passengers do not appear very remarkable. There is Madame
A----, returning from being prima donna in Mexico, in a packet called after
the opera in which she was there a favourite, with her husband Señor
V---- and her child. There is M. B---- with moustaches like a bird's nest;
a pretty widow in deep affliction, at least in deep mourning; a maiden lady
going out as a governess, and every variety of Spaniard and Havanero. So
now we are alone, C---n and I, and my French femme-de-chambre, with her air
of Dowager Duchess, and moreover sea-sick.
28th.--When I said I liked a sea life, I did not mean to be understood as
liking a merchant ship, with an airless cabin, and with every variety of
disagreeable odour. As a French woman on board, with the air of an
afflicted porpoise, and with more truth than elegance, expresses it: "Tout
devient puant, même l'eau-de-cologne."
The wind is still contrary, and the Norma, beating up and down, makes but
little way. We have gone seventy-four miles, and of these advanced but
forty. Every one being sick to-day, the deck is nearly deserted. The most
interesting object I have discovered on board is a pretty little deaf and
dumb girl, very lively and with an intelligent face, who has been teaching
me to speak on my fingers. The infant heir of the house of ----- has shown
his good taste by passing the day in squalling. M. B----, pale, dirty, and
much resembling a brigand out of employ, has traversed the deck with uneasy
footsteps and a cigar appearing from out his moustaches, like a light in a
tangled forest, or a jack-o'-lantern in a marshy thicket. A fat Spaniard
has been discoursing upon the glories of olla podrida. _Au reste_, we are
slowly pursuing our way, and at this rate might reach Cuba in three months.
And the stars are shining, quiet and silvery. All without is soft and
beautiful, and no doubt the Norma herself looks all in unison with the
scene, balancing herself like a lazy swan, white and graciously. So it is
without, and within, there is miserable sea-sickness, bilge-water, and all
the unavoidable disagreeables of a small packet.
31st.--Three days have passed without anything worthy of notice having
occurred, except that we already feel the difference of temperature. The
passengers are still enduring sea-sickness in all its phases.
This morning opened with an angry dispute between two of the gentlemen, on
the subject of Cuban lotteries, and they ended by applying to each other
epithets which, however much they might be deserved, were certainly rather
strong; but by dinner time, they were amicably engaged in concocting
together an enormous tureen of _gaspachos_, a sort of salad, composed of
bread, oil, vinegar, sliced onion and garlic--and the fattest one declares
that in warm weather, a dish of _gaspachos_, with plenty of garlic in it,
makes him feel as fresh as a rose. He must indeed be a perfect bouquet.
The opening of morning is dramatic in our narrow cabin. About twenty voices
in Spanish, German, Italian, and broken English, strike up by degrees. From
a neighbouring state room, _Nid d'oiseau_ puts forth his head. "Stooar! a
toomlar! here is no vater!" "Comin, sir, comin." "_Caramba!_ Stooard!"
"Comin, sir, comin!" "Stuart? vasser und toel!" "Here, sir." "Amigo! how is
the wind?" (This is the waking up of el Señor Ministro, putting his head
half suffocated out of his berth.) "Oh steward! steward!" "Yes, miss,"
"Come here, and look at _this_!" "I'll fix it, miss,"--etc.
1st November.--A fair wind after a stifling night, and strong hopes of
seeing the Bahama Banks on Sunday. Most people are now gradually ascending
from the lower regions, and dragging themselves on deck with pale and
dejected countenances. Madame A---- has such a sweet-toned voice in
speaking, especially in her accents of her _bella Italia_, that it is
refreshing to listen to her. I have passed all day in reading, after a
desultory fashion, "Les Enfants d'Edouard," by Casimir Delavigne,
Washington Irving, D'Israeli's "Curiosities of Literature," etc.; and it is
rather singular that while there is a very tolerable supply of English and
French books here, I see but one or two odd volumes in Spanish, although
these packets are constantly filled with people of that nation, going and
coming. Is it that they do not care for reading, or that less attention is
paid to them than to the French or American passengers? One would think
Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, or Moratin, better worth buying than
many commonplace novels which I find here.
3rd.--Yesterday the wind blew soft as on a summer morning. A land-bird flew
into the ship. To-day the wind has veered round, but the weather continues
charming. The sea is covered with multitudes of small flying-fish. An
infantile water-spout appeared, and died in its birth. Mr. -----, the
consul, has been giving me an account of the agreeable society in the
Sandwich Islands! A magnificent sunset, the sight of which compensates for
all the inconveniences of the voyage. The sky was covered with black clouds
lined with silver, and surrounded by every variety of colour; deep blue,
fleecy, rose, violet, and orange. The heavens are now thickly studded with
stars, numbers shooting across the blue expanse like messengers of light,
glancing and disappearing as if extinguished.
It is well to read the History of Columbus at sea, but especially in these
waters, where he wandered in suspense, high-wrought expectation, and firm
faith; and to watch the signs which the noble mariner observed in these
latitudes; the soft serenity of the breezes, the clear blue of the heavens,
the brilliancy and number of the stars, the sea-weeds of the gulf, which
always drift in the direction of the wind, the little land-birds that come
like harbingers of good tidings, the frequency of the shooting stars, and
the multitude of flying-fish.
As the shades of evening close around, and the tropical sky glitters with
the light of innumerable stars, imagination transports us back to that
century which stands out in bold relief amidst other ages rolling by
comparatively undistinguished, and we see as in a vision the Discoverer of
a World, standing on the deck of his caravel, as it bounded over the
unknown and mysterious waste of waters, his vigilant eyes fixed on the
west, like a Persian intently watching the rising of his god; though his
star was to arise from whence the day-god sets. We see him bending his gaze
on the first dark line that separated the watery sea from the blue of the
heavens, striving to penetrate the gloom of night, yet waiting with patient
faith until the dawn of day should bring the long-wished for shores in
sight.
6th.--For three days, three very long and uncomfortable days, the wind,
with surprising constancy, has continued to blow dead ahead. In ancient
days, what altars might have smoked to Aeolus! Now, except in the increased
puffing of consolatory cigar-smoke, no propitiatory offerings are made to
unseen powers. There are indeed many mourning signs amongst the passengers.
Every one has tied up his head in an angry-looking silken bandana, drawn
over his nose with a dogged air. Beards are unshaven, a black stubble
covering the lemon-coloured countenance, which occasionally bears a look of
sulky defiance, as if its owner were, like Juliet, "past hope, past cure,
past help."
7th.--This morning the monotony of fine weather was relieved by a hearty
squall, accompanied by torrents of rain, much thunder, and forked
lightning. The ship reeled to and fro like a drunken man, and the
passengers, as usual in such cases, performed various involuntary
evolutions, cutting right angles, sliding, spinning round, and rolling
over, as if Oberon's magic horn were playing an occasional blast amidst the
roaring winds; whilst the stewards alone, like Horace's good man, walked
serene amidst the wreck of crockery and the fall of plates. Driven from our
stronghold on deck, indiscriminately crammed in below like figs in a drum;
"weltering," as Carlyle has it, "like an Egyptian pitcher of tamed vipers,"
the cabin windows all shut in, we tried to take it coolly, in spite of the
suffocating heat.
There is a child on board who is certainly possessed, not by a witty
malicious demon, a diable boiteux, but by a teasing, stupid, wicked imp,
which inspires him with the desire of tormenting everything human that
comes within his reach. Should he escape being thrown overboard, it will
show a wonderful degree of forbearance on the part of the passengers.
8th.--The weather is perfect, but the wind inexorable; and the passengers,
with their heads tied up, look more gloomy than ever. Some sit dejected in
corners, and some quarrel with their neighbours, thus finding a
safety-valve by which their wrath may escape.
9th.--There is no change in the wind, yet the gentlemen have all brightened
up, taken off their handkerchiefs and shaved, as if ashamed of their six
days' impatience, and making up their minds to a sea-life. This morning we
saw land; a long, low ridge of hills on the island of Eleuthera, where they
make salt, and where there are many negroes. Neither salt nor negroes
visible to the naked eye; nothing but the gray outline of the hills,
melting into the sea and sky; and having tacked about all day, we found
ourselves in the evening precisely opposite to this same island. There are
Job's comforters on board, who assure us that they have been thirty-six
days between New York and la "joya mas preciosa de la corona de Espana."[1]
[Footnote 1: The most precious jewel in the Spanish crown, the name given
to Cuba.]
For my part, I feel no impatience, having rather a dislike to changing my
position when tolerable, and the air is so fresh and laden with balm, that
it seems to blow over some paradise of sweets, some land of fragrant
spices. The sea also is a mirror, and I have read Marryat's "Pirate" for
the first time.
Thus then we stand at eight o'clock, P.M.; wind ahead, and little of it,
performing a zigzag march between Eleuthera and Abaco. On deck, the pretty
widow lies in an easy chair, surrounded by her countrymen, who discourse
about sugar, molasses, chocolate, and other local topics, together with the
relative merits of Cuba as compared with the rest of the known world.
Madame A---- is studying her part of Elizabetta in the opera of Roberto
Devereux, which she is to bring out in Havana, but the creaking of the
Norma is sadly at variance with harmony. A pale German youth, in
dressing-gown and slippers, is studying Schiller. An ingenious youngster is
carefully conning a well-thumbed note, which looks like a milliner's girl's
last billet-doux. The little _possédé_ is burning brown paper within an
inch of the curtains of a state-room, while the steward is dragging it from
him. Others are gradually dropping into their berths, like ripe nuts from a
tree. Thus are we all pursuing our vocations.
9th.--Wind dead ahead! I console myself with Cinq-Mars and Jacob Faithful.
But the weather is lovely. A young moon in her first quarter, like a queen
in her minority, glitters like a crescent on the brow of night.
Towards evening the long wished for lighthouse of Abaco (built by the
English) showed her charitable and revolving radiance. But our ship,
Penelope-like, undoes by night what she has performed by day, and her
course is backward and crabbish. A delicious smell of violets is blowing
from the land.
10th.--A fair wind. The good tidings communicated by the A----, _toute
rayonnante de joie_. A fair wind and a bright blue sea, cool and refreshing
breezes, the waves sparkling, and the ship going gallantly over the waters.
So far, our voyage may have been tedious, but the most determined landsman
must allow that the weather has been charming.
Sunday at sea; and though no bells are tolling, and no hymns are chanted,
the blue sky above and the blue ocean beneath us, form one vast temple,
where, since the foundations of the earth and sea were laid, _Day unto day
uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge_.
This morning we neared the Berry Islands, unproductive and rocky, as the
geography books would say. One of these islands belongs to a coloured man,
who bought it for fifty dollars--a cheaply-purchased sovereignty. He, his
wife and children, with their _negro slaves_! live there, and cultivate
vegetables to sell at New York, or to the different ships that pass that
way. Had the wind been favourable, they would probably have sent us out a
boat with fresh vegetables, fish, and fruit, which would have been very
acceptable. We saw, not far from the shore, the wreck of a two-masted
vessel; sad sight to those who pass over the same waters to see
"A brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt,
some noble creatures in her,
Dashed all to pieces!"
Who had, at least, some of God's creatures in her. Anything but that! I am
like Gonzalo, and "would fain die a dry death."
We are now on the Bahama Banks, the water very clear and blue, with a
creamy froth, looking as if it flowed over pearls and turquoises. An
English schooner man-of-war (a _boy_-of-war in size) made all sail towards
us, doubtless hoping we were a slaver; but, on putting us to the test of
his spy-glass, the captain, we presume, perceived that the general tinge of
countenance was lemon rather than negro, and so abandoned his pursuit.
This evening on the Banks. It would be difficult to imagine a more placid
and lovely scene. Everything perfectly calm, all sail set, and the heavens
becoming gradually sprinkled with silver stars. The sky blue, and without a
cloud, except where the sun has just set, the last crimson point sinking in
the calm sea and leaving a long retinue of rainbow-coloured clouds, deep
crimson tinged with bright silver, and melting away into gray, pale vapour.
On goes the vessel, stately and swanlike; the water of the same turquoise
blue, covered with a light pearly froth, and so clear that we see the large
sponges at the bottom. Every minute they heave the lead. "By the mark
three." "By the mark three, less a quarter." "By the mark twain and a
half," (fifteen feet, the vessel drawing thirteen,) two feet between us and
the bottom. The sailor sings it out like the first line of a hymn in short
metre, doled out by the parish clerk. I wish Madame A---- were singing it
instead of he. "By the mark three, less a quarter." To this tune, the only
sound breaking the stillness of the night, I dropped to sleep. The captain
passed the night anxiously, now looking out for lights on the Banks, now at
the helm, or himself sounding the lead:
"For some must watch whilst others sleep;
Thus wags the world away."
11th.--Beautiful morning, and fair wind. About eight we left the Banks.
Just then we observed, that the sailor who sounded, having sung out five,
then six, then in a few minutes seven, suddenly found no bottom, as if we
had fallen off all at once from the brink of the Bank into an abyss.
A fellow-captain, and passenger of our captain's, told me this morning,
that he spoke the ship which carried out Governor and Mrs. McLean to
Cape-Coast Castle--the unfortunate L.E.L. It does not seem to me at all
astonishing that the remedies which she took in England without injury,
should have proved fatal to her in that wretched climate.
We have been accompanied all the morning by a fine large ship, going full
sail, the Orleans, Captain Sears, bound for New Orleans.... A long
semicircular line of black rocks in sight; some of a round form, one of
which is called the Death's Head; another of the shape of a turtle, and
some two or three miles long. At the extremity of one of these the English
are building a lighthouse.
12th.--We are opposite the Pan of Matanzas, about sixty miles from Havana.
Impatience becomes general, but the breeze rocks up and down, and we gain
little. This day, like all last days on board, has been remarkably tedious,
though the country gradually becomes more interesting. There is a universal
brushing-up amongst the passengers; some shaving, some with their heads
plunged into tubs of cold water. So may have appeared Noah's ark, when the
dove did not return, and the passengers prepared for _terra firma_, after a
forty days' voyage. Our Mount Ararat was the Morro Castle, which, dark and
frowning, presented itself to our eyes, at six o'clock, P.M.
Nothing can be more striking than the first appearance of this fortress,
starting up from the solid rock, with its towers and battlements, while
here, to remind us of our latitude, we see a few feathery cocoas growing
amidst the herbage that covers the banks near the castle. By its side,
covering a considerable extent of ground, is the fortress called the
_Cabana_, painted rose-colour, with the angles of its bastions white.
But there is too much to look at now. I must finish my letter in Havana.
HAVANA, 13th November.
Last evening, as we entered the beautiful bay, everything struck us as
strange and picturesque. The soldiers of the garrison, the prison built by
General Tacon, the irregular houses with their fronts painted red or pale
blue, and with the cool but uninhabited look produced by the absence of
glass windows; the merchant ships and large men-of-war; vessels from every
port in the commercial world, the little boats gliding amongst them with
their snow-white sails, the negroes on the wharf--nothing European. The
heat was great, that of a July day, without any freshness in the air.
As we approached the wharf the noise and bustle increased. The passengers
all crowded upon deck, and we had scarcely anchored, when various little
boats were seen making for the Norma. First boat brought an officer with
the salutations of the Captain-General to his Excellency, with every polite
offer of service; second boat brought the Administrator of the Yntendente
(the Count de Villa Nueva), with the same civilities; the third, the master
of the house where we now are, and whence I indite these facts; the fourth,
the Italian Opera, which rushed simultaneously into the arms of the A---i;
the fifth, prosaic custom-house officers; the sixth, a Havana count and
marquis; the seventh, the family of General M---o. Finally, we were hoisted
over the ship's side in a chair, into the government boat, and rowed to the
shore. As it was rather dark when we arrived, and we were driven to our
destination in a volante, we did not see much of the city. We could but
observe that the streets were narrow, the houses irregular, most people
black, and the volante, an amusing-looking vehicle, looking behind like a
black insect with high shoulders, and with a little black postilion on a
horse or mule, with an enormous pair of boots and a fancy uniform.
The house in which, by the hospitality of the H---a family we are
installed, has from its windows, which front the bay, the most varied and
interesting view imaginable. As it is the first house, Spanish fashion,
which I have entered, I must describe it to you before I sleep. The house
forms a great square, and you enter the court, round which are the offices,
the rooms for the negroes, coal-house, bath-room, etc., and in the middle
of which stand the volantes. Proceed upstairs, and enter a large gallery
which runs all round the house. Pass into the _Sala_, a large cool
apartment, with marble floor and tables, and _chaise-longues_ with elastic
cushions, chairs, and arm-chairs of cane. A drapery of white muslin and
blue silk divides this from a second and smaller drawing-room, now serving
as my dressing-room, and beautifully fitted up, with Gothic toilet-table,
inlaid mahogany bureau, marble centre and side-tables, fine mirrors, cane
sofas and chairs, green and gold paper. A drapery of white muslin and rose-
coloured silk divides this from a bedroom, also fitted up with all manner
of elegances. French beds with blue silk coverlids and clear mosquito
curtains, and fine lace. A drapery divides this on one side from the
gallery; and this room opens into others which run all round the house. The
floors are marble or stucco--the roofs beams of pale blue wood placed
transversely, and the whole has an air of agreeable coolness. Everything is
handsome without being gaudy, and admirably adapted for the climate. The
sleeping apartments have no windows, and are dark and cool, while the
drawing-rooms have large windows down to the floor, with green shutters
kept closed till the evening.
The mosquitoes have now commenced their evening song, a signal that it is
time to put out the lights. The moon is shining on the bay, and a faint
sound of military music is heard in the distance, while the sea moans with
a sad but not unpleasing monotony. To all these sounds I retire to rest.
LETTER THE SECOND
Havana Aristocracy--"Lucia de Lammermoor"--La Rossi and Montresor--Brig-
of-war--Countess de V---a--Dinner at H---a's--Southerly Winds--View from
the Balcony--_Quinta_ of Count V---a--San Cristobal--Mass at San Felipe--
Erard Harp--Dinner at General M---o's--A Dessert at Havana--Queen of
Spain's Birthday--Dinner at the Yntendencia--La Pantanelli--Theatre of
Tacon--Railroad--Cure by Lightning--Shops--Ball at the Countess F---a's--
Last Visit--Souvenirs.
15th.--We expected hospitality and a good reception, but certainly all our
expectations have been surpassed, and the last few days have been spent in
such a round of festivity, that not a moment has been left for writing. At
home we have held a levee to all that is most distinguished in Havana.
Counts, marquesses, and generals, with stars and crosses, have poured in
and poured out ever since our arrival. I do not pretend to form any
judgment of Havana. We have seen it too much _en beau_.
Last evening we found time to go to the theatre. The opera was "Lucia de
Lammermoor." The _prima donna_, La Rossi, has a voice of much sweetness,
sings correctly and with taste, is graceful in her movements, but sadly
deficient in strength. Still she suits the character represented, and comes
exactly up to my idea of poor Lucy, devoted and broken-hearted, physically
and morally weak. Though the story is altered, and the interest weakened,
how graceful the music is! how lovely and full of melody! The orchestra is
good, and composed of blacks and whites, like the notes of a piano, mingled
in harmonious confusion.
The theatre is remarkably pretty and airy, and the pit struck us as being
particularly clean and respectable. All the seats are red leather
arm-chairs, and all occupied by well-dressed people.
At the end of the first act, we went round to the Countess F---a's box, to
return a visit which she had made me in the morning. We found her extremely
agreeable and full of intelligence, also with a very decided air of
fashion. She was dressed in fawn-coloured satin, with large pearls. At the
end of the second act, Lucia was taken ill, her last aria missed out, and
her monument driven on the stage without further ceremony. Montresor, the
Ravenswood of the piece, came in, sung, and stabbed himself with immense
enthusiasm. It is a pity that his voice is deserting him, while his taste
and feeling remain. The house has altogether a French look. The boxes are
private--that is, the property of individuals, but are not shut in, which
in this climate would be suffocating. We passed out through a long file of
soldiers. The sudden transition from Yankee land to this military Spanish
negro-land is _dreamy_.
The General de la Marina (_Anglice_, admiral of the station) called some
days ago, and informed us that there is a brig of war destined to convey us
to Vera Cruz.
Amongst the ladies who have called on me, I find none more charming than
the Countess de V---a. Her voice is agreeable, her manners cordial and
easy, her expression beautiful from goodness, with animated eyes and fine
teeth, her dress quiet and rich. She is universally beloved here. I
received from her, nearly every morning, a bouquet of the loveliest flowers
from her quinta--roses, carnations, heliotrope, etc. The dinner at H---a's
to-day was a perfect feast. I sat between the Count de F---a and the Count
de S---- V----, a millionaire. Everything was served in French white and
gold porcelain, which looks particularly cool and pretty in this climate.
The Count de P---r was there and his brother; the latter a gentlemanly and
intelligent man, with a great taste for music, and whose daughter is a
first-rate singer and a charming person. After dinner we rose, according to
custom, and went into an adjoining room while they arranged the dessert,
consisting of every imaginable and unimaginable sweetmeat, with fruit,
ices, etc. The fruits I have not yet learned to like. They are certainly
wonderful and delicious productions of nature; but to eat eggs and custards
and butter off the trees, seems unnatural.
The heat to-day is terrible; with a suffocating south wind blowing, and
were the houses not built as they are, would be unbearable. The dinner is
served in the gallery, which is spacious and cool.
After dinner, Señor Don P---o H---a rose, and, addressing C---n, pronounced
a poetical impromptu, commemorating the late victory of Espartero, and
congratulating C---n on his mission to the Mexican republic. We then
adjourned to the balcony, where the air was delightful, a cool evening
breeze having suddenly sprung up. A large ship, full sail, and various
barks, passed the View From the Balcony Morro. There were negroes with bare
legs walking on the wall, carrying parcels, etc.; volantes passing by with
their black-eyed occupants, in full dress, short sleeves, and flowers in
their hair; well-dressed, martial-looking Spanish soldiers marching by, and
making tolerably free remarks on the ladies in the volantes.... We had a
visit from the Captain-General.
In the evening we went out to see the Countess de V---a, at her pretty
quinta, a short way out of town, and walked in the garden by moonlight,
amongst flowers and fountains. The little count is already one of the
chamberlains to the Queen, and a diamond key has been sent him by Queen
Christina in token of her approbation of his father's services. These
country retreats are delightful after the narrow streets and impure air of
the city.... We saw there a good engraving of Queen Victoria, with the
Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Normanby.
17th.--Yesterday we went to see the procession of the patron saint, San
Cristobal, from the balconies of the Yntendencia. It is a fine spacious
building, and, together with the Captain-General's palace, stands in the
Plaza de Armas, which was crowded with negroes and negresses, all dressed
in white, with white muslin and blonde mantillas, framing and showing off
their dusky physiognomies.
Two regiments, with excellent bands of music, conducted the procession,
composed of monks and priests. San Cristobal, a large figure with thick
gold legs, surrounded by gold angels with gold wings, was carried by to the
music of "_Suoni la tromba_," to which were adapted the words of a hymn in
praise of Liberty.
We attended mass in the morning in the church of San Felipe, and entered,
preceded, according to custom, by a little negro footman carrying a piece
of carpet. There were few people in church, but the grouping was
picturesque. The black faces of the negresses, with their white mantillas
and white satin shoes; the black silk dresses and black lace mantillas of
the Havana ladies, with their white faces and black eyes, and little
liveried negroes standing behind them; the officers, music, and
long-bearded priests--all were very effective.
Found, on my return, an excellent Erard harp, sent me by the Marquesa de
A---s, a pretty woman and female Croesus.
A splendid entertainment was given us to-day by General M---o. His house is
large and cool; the dinner, as usual, in the gallery; and although there
were ninety-seven guests, and as many negroes in waiting, the heat was not
oppressive. The jewels of the ladies were superb, especially the diamonds
of the M---- family; sprays, necklaces, earrings, really beautiful. The
Marquesa de A---- wore a set of emeralds the size of small eggs. She had a
pretty, graceful-looking daughter with her, with beautiful eyes. Even the
men were well sprinkled with diamonds and rubies.
The dessert, from variety and quantity, was a real curiosity. Immense vases
and candelabras of alabaster were placed at different distances on the
table, and hundreds of porcelain dishes were filled with sweetmeats and
fruits-sweetmeats of every description, from the little meringue called
"mouthful for a queen," to the blancmanger made of supreme de volaille and
milk.
After dinner our health was drank, and another poetical address pronounced.
The evening concluded with music and the Havana country-dances.
20th.--Yesterday being the Queen of Spain's birthday, a dinner was given to
us at the Yntendencia. The house in size is a palace, and the apartments
innumerable. The dinner very elegant, and the dessert arranged in another
room, a curiosity as usual for profusion and variety. Her Majesty's health
was proposed by Don B---o H---a, and so well-timed, that all the guns of
the forts fired a salute, it being sunset, just as the toast was concluded,
which was drank with real enthusiasm and hearty goodwill. According to
Spanish custom, the aristocracy generally _se tutoient_, and call each
other by their Christian names; indeed, they are almost all connected by
inter-marriages. You may guess at an inferior in rank, only by their
increased respect towards him.
We stood on the balcony in the evening. The scene was beautiful, the
temperature rather warm, yet delicious from the softness of the breeze. The
moon rose so bright that she seemed like the sun shining through a silvery
veil. Groups of figures were sauntering about in the square, under the
trees, and two bands having stationed themselves with lamps and music,
played alternately pieces from Mozart and Bellini. We regretted leaving so
delightful a scene for the theatre, where we arrived in time to hear La
Pantanelli sing an aria, dressed in helmet and Theatre of Tacon tunic, and
to see La Jota Arragonesa danced by two handsome Spanish girls in good
style.
One evening we went to the theatre of Tacon, to the Captain-General's box.
It is certainly a splendid house, large, airy, and handsome. The play was
the "Campanero de San Pablo," which, though generally liked, appears to me
a complicated and unnatural composition, with one or two interesting
scenes. The best actor was he who represented the blind man. The chief
actress is an overgrown dame, all fat and dimples, who kept up a constant
sobbing and heaving of her chest, yet never getting rid of an eternal smirk
upon her face. A bolero, danced afterwards by two Spanish damsels in black
and silver, was very refreshing.
23rd.--To-morrow we sail in the Jason, should the wind not prove contrary.
Visits, dinners, and parties have so occupied our time, that to write has
been next to impossible. Of the country we have, from the same reason, seen
little, and the people we are only acquainted with in full dress, which is
not the way to judge of them truly. One morning, indeed, we dedicated to
viewing the works of the Yntendente, the railroad, and the water-filterers.
He and the Countess, and a party of friends, accompanied us.
The country through which the railroad passes is flat and rather
monotonous; nevertheless, the quantity of wild flowers, which appeared for
the most part of the convolvulus species, as we glanced past them--the
orange-trees, the clumps of palm and cocoa, the plantain with its gigantic
leaves, the fresh green coffee-plant, the fields of sugar-cane of a still
brighter green, the half-naked negroes, the low wooden huts, and, still
more, the scorching sun in the month of November,--all was new to us, and
sufficient to remind us of the leagues of ocean we had traversed, though
this is but a halt on our voyage.
At the village where the cars stopped, we listened with much amusement to
the story of a fat, comfortable-looking individual, who was cured by
lightning in the following manner:--He was in the last stage of a decline,
when, one hot July morning, he was knocked down by a thunderbolt, a ball of
fire, which entered his side, ran all through his body, and came out at his
arm. At the place where the ball made its exit, a large ulcer was formed,
and when it dispersed he found himself in perfect health, in which he has
continued ever since! In such cases the "bottled lightning," demanded by
Mrs. Nickleby's admirer, might be a valuable remedy.
Of course I could not leave Havana without devoting one morning to
shopping. The shops have most seducing names--Hope, Wonder, Desire, etc.
The French modistes seem to be wisely improving their time, by charging
respectable prices for their work. The shop-keepers bring their goods out
to the volante, it not being the fashion for ladies to enter the shops,
though I took the privilege of a foreigner to infringe this rule
occasionally. Silks and satins very dear--lace and muslin very reasonable,
was, upon the whole, the result of my investigation; but as it only lasted
two hours, and that my sole purchases of any consequence, were an
indispensable mantilla, and a pair of earrings, I give my opinion for the
present with due diffidence.
I can speak with more decision on the subject of a great ball given us by
the Countess F---a, last evening, which was really superb. The whole house
was thrown open--there was a splendid supper, quantities of refreshment,
and the whole select aristocracy of Havana. Diamonds on all the women,
jewels and orders on all the men, magnificent lustres and mirrors, and a
capital band of music in the gallery.
The Captain-General was the only individual in a plain dress. He made
himself very agreeable, in good French. About one hundred couple stood up
in each country-dance, but the rooms are so large and so judiciously
lighted, that we did not feel at all warm. Waltzes, quadrilles, and these
long Spanish dances, succeeded each other. Almost all the girls have fine
eyes and beautiful figures, but without colour, or much animation. The
finest diamonds were those of the Countess F---a, particularly her
necklace, which was _undeniable_.
Walking through the rooms after supper, we were amused to see the negroes
and negresses helping them-selves plentifully to the sweetmeats, uncorking
and drinking fresh bottles of Champagne, and devouring everything on the
supper tables, without the slightest concern for the presence either of
their master or mistress; in fact, behaving like a multitude of spoilt
children, who are sure of meeting with indulgence, and presume upon it.
Towards morning we were led downstairs to a large Souvenirs suite of rooms,
containing a library of several thousand volumes; where coffee, cakes,
etc., were prepared in beautiful Sevres porcelain and gold plate. We left
the house at last to the music of the national hymn of Spain, which struck
up as we past through the gallery.
Should the north wind, the dreaded _Norte_, not blow, we sail to-morrow,
and have spent the day in receiving farewell visits. We also went to the
theatre, where every one predicts we shall not get off to-morrow. The play
was "Le Gamin de Paris," translated. After our return, I paid a very late
visit to the P---r family, who live close by us, and now, at two in the
morning, I finish my letter sleepily. Many beautiful _souvenirs_ have been
sent us, and amongst others, the Count de S---- V---- has just sent C---n a
model of the palace of Madrid, one of the most beautiful and ingenious
pieces of workmanship possible. It is carved in wood, with astonishing
accuracy and delicacy.
My next letter will be dated on board the Jason.
LETTER THE THIRD
Departure in the Jason--Spanish Captain and Officers--Life on board a
Man-of-War--"_Balances_"--Fishing--"_Le Petit Tambour_"--Cocoa-nuts--A
_Norte_--Spanish Proverb--Peak of Orizava--Theory and Practice--_Norte
Chocolatero_--Contrary Winds--Chain of Mountains--Goleta.
JASON, 24th November.
This morning, at six o'clock, we breakfasted, together with Captain
Estrada, the commander of the Jason, at the _Casa H---a_; and the wind
being fair, repaired shortly after in volantes to the wharf, accompanied by
our hospitable host, and several of our acquaintances; entered the boat,
looked our last of the Palace and the Yntendencia, and of Havana itself,
where we had arrived as strangers, and which now, in fifteen days, had
begun to assume a familiar aspect, and to appear interesting in our eyes,
by the mere force of human sympathy; and were transported to the ship,
where a line of marines, drawn up to receive us, presented arms as we
entered. The morning was beautiful; little wind, but fair. We took leave of
our friends, waved our handkerchiefs to the balconies in return for signals
from scarcely-distinguishable figures, passed between the red-tinted Cabana
and the stately Morro, and were once more upon the deep, with a remembrance
behind, and a hope before us. Our _Bergantina_ is a handsome vessel, with
twenty-five guns, five officers, a doctor, chaplain, and purser, and one
hundred and fifty men.
We find the commander very attentive, and a perfect gentleman, like almost
all of his class, and though very young in appearance, he has been
twenty-nine years in the service.
25th.--The weather delightful, and the ship going at the rate of five knots
an hour. The accommodations in a brig not destined for passengers are of
course limited. There is a large cabin for the officers, separated by a
smaller one, belonging to the captain, which he has given up to us.
At seven o'clock C---n rises, and at eight, a marine sentinel, transformed
into a lady's page, whom we are taking to Mexico as porter, brings us some
very delicious chocolate. He is followed by the Captain's familiar, an
unhappy-looking individual, pale, lank, and lean, with the physiognomy of a
methodist parson, and in general appearance like a weed that has grown up
in one night. He tremblingly, and with most rueful countenance, carries a
small plate of sugar-biscuits. These originals having vacated the cabin, I
proceed to dress, an operation of some difficulty, which being performed
_tant bien que mal_, I repair upstairs, armed with book and fan, and sit on
deck till ten o'clock, when the familiar's lamentable announcement of
breakfast takes us down again. The cook being French, the _comestibles_ are
decidedly good, and were the artist a little less of an oil, and more of a
water painter, I individually would prefer his style. We have every variety
of fish, meat, fowl, fruit, _dulces_, and wines.
A very long interval has to be filled up by reading, writing, sitting, or
walking upon deck, as suits the taste of the individual, or by drinking
orangeade, or by sleeping, or by any other ingenious resource for killing
time. At five, dinner, at which no one joins us but the captain and one
officer; and after dinner on deck till bed-time, walking about, or gazing
on the sky or sea, or listening to the songs of the sailors.
26th.--Little wind, but a day of such abominably cruel "_balances_," as
they call them, that one is tempted to find rest by jumping overboard.
Everything broken or breaking. Even the cannons disgorge their balls, which
fall out by their own weight.
28th.--We have had two days of perfect weather though very warm; the sky
blue, without one cloud. To-day we are on the sound, and have lain to,
about noon, to let the sailors fish, thereby losing an hour or so of fair
wind, and catching a preposterous number of fish of immense size. The water
was so clear, that we could see the fish rush and seize the bait as fast as
it was thrown in. Sometimes a huge shark would bite the fish in two, so
that the poor finny creature was between Scylla and Charybdis. These fish
are called _cherne_ and _pargo_, and at dinner were pronounced good. At
length a shark, in its wholesale greediness, seized the bait, and feeling
the hook in his horrid jaw, tugged most fiercely to release himself, but in
vain. Twelve sailors hauled him in, when, with distended jaws, he seemed to
look out for the legs of the men, whereupon they rammed the butt-end of a
harpoon down his throat, which put a stop to all further proceedings on his
part. He was said to be quite young, perhaps the child of doting parents.
The juvenile monster had, however, already cut three rows of teeth.
We are sometimes amused in the evening, when upon deck, by a little
drummer, who invariably collects all the sailors round him, and spins them
long, endless stories of his own invention, to which they listen with
intense interest. On he goes, without a moment's hesitation, inventing
everything most improbable and wonderful; of knights and giants and
beautiful princesses, and imprisoned damsels, and poor peasants becoming
great kings. He is a little ugly, active fellow, with a turned-up nose, a
merry eye, and a laughing mouth. Amongst his axioms is the following verse,
which he sings with great expression.
Hasta los palos del monte
Tienen su destinacion
Unos nacen para santos
Y otros para hacer carbon.
which may be translated so:
Even the mountain-trees
Have their allotted goal,
For some are born for saints
Whilst others serve for coal.
29th.--Beautiful day, fair wind, great heat, and more fishing. At least
thirty large fish were caught this morning, also an infant shark, a
grandchild who had wandered forth to nibble, and met an untimely grave. We
have seen several alacrans or scorpions on board, but these are said not to
be poisonous. The ship is the perfection of cleanness. No disagreeable
odour affects the olfactory nerves, in which it has a singular advantage
over all packets. This, and having it all to ourselves, and the officers
being such perfect gentlemen, and all so kind and attentive, makes our
voyage so far a mere pleasure trip.
We had some of the Countess de V----'s cocoa-nuts, of which she sent us a
great supply, pierced this morning, each containing three tumblers of fresh
and delicious water.
1st December.--We are now about thirty leagues from Vera Cruz, and if the
wind blows a little fresher, may reach it to-morrow. This is Sunday, but
the chaplain is too sick to say mass, and the heat is intense.
2nd.--An unpleasant variety--a _Norte!_ I knew it was coming on, only by
the face of the first lieutenant when he looked at the barometer. His
countenance fell as many degrees as the instrument. It is very slight, but
our entry into port will be delayed, for, on the coast, these winds are
most devoutly dreaded. It has rained all day, and, notwithstanding the
rolling of the ship, we attempted a game at chess, but after having tried
two games, abandoned it in despair, a "_balance_" having, at the most
interesting period of each, overturned the board, and left the victory
undecided, somewhat after the fashion of Homer's goddess, when she
enveloped the contending armies in a cloud.
4th.--Yesterday evening a south wind, and the Spanish proverb says truly
"Sur duro, Norte seguro."
"A south wind strong, The norther ere long."
This morning the sky is covered with watery clouds, yet we can see the
Cofre de Perote and the peak of Orizava, which are thirty leagues inland!
The latter, called by the Mexicans, Citlal Tepetl, or the mountain of the
star, from the fire which used to burn on its lofty summit, rises nineteen
thousand five hundred and fifty-one feet above the level of the sea.
Covered with perpetual snows, and rising far above clouds and tempests, it
is the first mountain which the navigator discovers as he approaches these
shores.
But the south wind continues and we are obliged to turn our back to the
coast. There is much impatience on board. A---- was taken ill, and declared
she had got the yellow fever. The doctor was sent for, who, very sick
himself, and holding by the table to keep himself from falling, told her,
without looking at her very particularly, that there was nothing the
matter, only to keep yourself "_quite quiet and still_;" and the ship
rolling at the same moment, he pitched head-foremost out of the cabin,
showing practically how much easier precept is than example. As we shall no
doubt have a norther after this, which may last three days, our promised
land is still at some distance.
5th.--The weather is charming, but the south-west wind holds most
implacably, and the barometer has fallen five or six degrees, which, added
to other signs of the times known to navigators, causes all hands to
prepare for the dreaded enemy.
6th.--Job never was on board a ship. A norther, not a very severe one, but
what they call a _Norte chocolatero_, that is, its shock tore a sail in
two, as I tear this sheet of paper. The most ingenious person I see is "the
master of the sails." He sews most excessively quick and well. Towards
evening the wind calmed, but the ship, tossed upon a horribly swelled sea,
became a mortal purgatory. Still the wind is lulled, though Humboldt and
others say a Norte must last forty-eight hours, and we have only had it for
twenty-four. We shall see.
7th.--A most horrible night! My hammock, which I had foolishly preferred to
a bed, not having room to swing in, threw me furiously against the wall,
till fearing a broken head, I jumped out and lay on the floor. To-day there
is a comparative calm, a faint continuation of the Norte, which is an air
with variations. Everything now seems melancholy and monotonous. We have
been tossed about during four days in sight of Vera Cruz, and are now
further from it than before. The officers begin to look miserable; even the
cook with difficulty preserves his equilibrium.
Sunday, 8th.--A Norte! The sky is watery, and covered with shapeless masses
of reddish clouds. This is a great day amongst all Spanish Catholics, _Le
Virgen de la Concepción_, the patroness of Spain and the Indies; but no
mass to-day; the padre sick and the Norte blowing. What a succession of
long faces--walking barometers!
9th.--Yesterday evening the wind held out false hopes, and every one
brightened up with caution, for the wind, though faintly, blew from the
right quarter. The rain ceased, the weather cleared, and "hope, the
charmer," smiled upon us. The greater was our disappointment when the
breeze died away, when the wind veered to the north, and when once more the
most horrible rolling seized the unfortunate Jason, as if it were possessed
by a demon. Finding it impossible to lie in my hammock, I stretched myself
on the floor; where, during a night that seemed interminable, we were
tossed up and down, knocked against the furniture, and otherwise
maltreated.
This morning there is little wind, but that little from the north, so that
the termination of our voyage appears as far off now as it did eight days
ago. The faces of all on board are calmly lugubrious. Little said. A few
Spanish shrugs interchanged with ominous significance.
10th.--As there is only one particular wind during which it is not
dangerous to approach the coast, namely, "_la brisa_," the breeze which
usually follows the norther, we may spend our Christmas here. The weather
is beautiful, though very sultry, especially during the calms which
intervene between the _nortes_. With books one might take patience, but I
read and re-read backwards and forwards everything I possess, or can
find--reviews, magazines, a volume of Humboldt, even an odd volume of the
"Barber of Paris"--"Turkish Letters," _purporting_ to be the translation of
a continuation of the Montesquieu's "Lettres Persanes," and in which the
hero, disguised as a gardener, brings the Visier's daughter a bouquet,
which she condescendingly receives, lying in bed _a l'Espagnole!_ I am now
reduced to a very serious Spanish work on the truth of Christianity.
This evening, to the joy of all on board, arose the long-desired breeze.
The ship went slowly and steadily on her course, at first four, then eight
knots an hour. The captain, however, looked doubtingly, and, indeed,
towards morning, the wind changed to the south, and our hopes died away.
11th.--Contrary wind. A south, expected to be followed by a "norte seguro."
But now, at eleven, A.M., it is quite calm, and very sultry, whilst to
increase, if possible, our weariness, a long range of lofty mountains
stretches along the horizon, from Punta Delgada to the Cofre de Perote, and
on till they seem to sink in the ocean. Behind the Cofre rises Orizava, now
like a white cloud, but this morning tinged with a rosy light by the rays
of the rising sun. The sea is tranquil and the horizon clear, nevertheless
the enemy is looked for. There are a few white and feathery clouds
flickering about in the sky, and there is an uneasy swell in the waves....
At three o'clock, out burst the norther, which, like the flaming sword,
guarding the issues of paradise,
"Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms,"
seems to warn off all vessels from approaching these iron-bound shores.
Eleven days within a few hours' distance of the coast!
16th.--Five days more passed with a continuation of contrary winds and
constant rolling. We are further from hope than we were fourteen days ago.
Captain, officers, sailors, all seem nearly disheartened. This morning they
caught the most beautiful fish I ever beheld, of the dolphin
species--the Cleopatra of the ocean, about four feet long, apparently
composed of gold, and studded with turquoises. It changed colour in dying.
There is a proverb, which the sailors are repeating to each other, not very
encouraging:
"Este es el viage del Orinoco.
Que él que no se murio, se volvió loco."
"This is the voyage of the Orinoco,
in which he who did not die, became crazy."
17th.--Spoke a goleta, who came close up by our vessel, and seemed to have
a miserable set on board, amongst others, a worthy pair from Havana, who
had just come out of prison, having been accused of murdering a negro. The
wind continues contrary. I shall fold up this sea-scrawl, and write no more
till we reach Vera Cruz.
LETTER THE FOURTH
Distant View of Vera Cruz--Pilots--Boat from the City--Mutual
Salutes--Approach to Vera Cruz--Crowd on the Wharf--House of Dionisio
V---o--Guard of Honour--German Piano--Supper--Madonna--Aspect of the
City--_Sopilotes_--Deliberations--General Guadalupe Victoria--Two-headed
Eagle--Dilapidated Saint--Harp--Theatre--Donna Inocencia
Martinez--Invitation from General Santa Anna.
VERA CRUZ, 18th.
This morning, the sanguine hoped, and the desponding feared, for the wind,
though inclined to _la brisa_, seemed unlikely to prove sufficiently strong
to enable us to reach Vera Cruz--this being the twenty-fifth day since we
left Havana; a voyage that, with a steamer, might be performed in three
days, and with a sailing-vessel and a fair wind, is made in six or seven.
About noon, the aspect of things became more favourable. The breeze grew
stronger, and with it our hopes.
At last appeared in view, faintly, certain spires beside the low sandy
land, which for some time we had anxiously watched, and at length we could
distinguish houses and churches, and the fort of San Juan de Ulua, of
warlike memory. By slow but sure degrees, we neared the shore, until Vera
Cruz, in all its ugliness, became visible to our much-wearied eyes. We had
brought a pilot from Havana to guide us to these dangerous coasts, but
though a native of these parts, it seemed that a lapse of years had blunted
his memory, for we had nearly run upon the rocks. A gun was therefore
fired, and another pilot came out, who at sight of the Spanish flag waxed
enthusiastic, and pointing out the castle to our ignorant friend,
exclaimed, alluding to the desperate struggle made by the Spaniards to
defend this their last stronghold at the end of the war, "_We_, although
but a handful of men, defended ourselves for years like soldiers, and now
these Frenchmen took it in three days!" and, walking about in a transport
of patriotic despair, he seemed to forget his actual duty in the tide of
remembrances which the sight of Spanish colours and a Spanish crew had
called forth.
Anything more melancholy, _delabre_ and forlorn, than the whole appearance
of things as we drew near, cannot well be imagined. On one side, the fort,
with its black and red walls: on the other, the miserable, black-looking
city, with hordes of large black birds, called _sopilotes_, hovering over
some dead carcass, or flying heavily along in search of carrion. Still, as
the goal of our voyage, even its dreary aspect was welcome, and the very
hills of red sand by which it is surrounded, and which look like the
deserts of Arabia, appeared inviting.
A boat full of cocked hats was now seen approaching from the city,
containing the Consul in full uniform, and other authorities. C---n having
sent for and obtained permission from the Governor, to permit the Jason,
contrary to established usages, to anchor beneath the castle, a salute of
twenty guns was fired from our ship. Being upon deck, I was nearly
suffocated with smoke and powder. A salute of the same number of cannon was
then fired from the castle, in honour of the first Spanish man-of-war that
has appeared in this port since the Revolution.
And now we prepared, before the sun went down, to leave our watery prison;
and the captain's boat being manned, and having taken leave of the
officers, we, that is, C---n, the commander, and I, and my French maid and
her French poodle, got into it. Then came a salute of twenty guns from the
Jason in our honour, and we rode off amidst clouds of smoke. Then the fort
gave us welcome with the same number of guns, and, amidst all this
cannonading, we were landed at the wharf.
A singular spectacle the wharf presented. A crowd, as far as the eye could
reach, of all ages and sexes of Vera Cruzians (and a very curious set they
seemed to be), were assembled to witness his Excellency's arrival. Some had
no pantaloons; and others, to make up for their neighbours' deficiencies,
had two pair--the upper slit up the side of the leg, Mexican fashion. All
had large hats, with silver or bead rolls, and every tinge of dark
complexion, from the pure Indian, upwards. Some dresses were entirely
composed of rags, clinging together by the attraction of cohesion; others
had only a few holes to let in the air. All were crowding, jostling, and
nearly throwing each other into the water, and gazing with faces of intense
curiosity.
But a plume of coloured feathers was seen towering above the
copper-coloured crowd, and immediate passage was made for an aide-de-camp
from the Governor, General Guadalupe Victoria. He was an immensely tall
man, in a showy uniform all covered with gold, with colossal epaulets and a
towering plume of rainbow-coloured feathers. He brought to C---n the
welcome and congratulations of the General, and those Spanish offers of
service and devotion which sound agreeably, whatever be their true value.
We now began to move through the crowd, which formed a line on either side
to let us pass, and entered the streets of Vera Cruz, which were crowded,
balconies and all, and even roofs with curious faces. The guard formed as
we passed, and struck up a march. The principal street is wide and clean,
and we reached the house of Señor V---o, a rich merchant, formerly consul,
where we are to reside, followed to the door by the whole population. We
were received with great hospitality, and found excellent rooms prepared
for us. The house is immensely large and airy, built in a square as they
all are, but with that unfurnished melancholy look, which as yet this style
of house has to me, though admirably adapted to the climate.
A guard of honour sent by General Victoria, trotted into the courtyard,
whose attendance C---n declined with thanks, observing that his mission had
for object to terminate the coolness hitherto existing between two families
of brothers; that between members of the same family there was nothing to
fear, and all compliments were unnecessary.
I found a German piano in the drawing-room, on which I was glad to put my
fingers after a month's abstinence. A number of gentlemen came in the
evening to visit C---n. We were received by this family with so much real
kindness, that we soon found ourselves perfectly at home. We had a
plentiful supper--fish, meat, wine, and chocolate, fruit and sweetmeats;
the cookery, Spanish _Vera-Cruzified_. A taste of the style was enough for
me, garlic and oil enveloping meat, fish, and fowl, with pimentos and
plantains, and all kinds of curious fruit, which I cannot yet endure. Bed
was not unwelcome, and most comfortable beds we had, with mosquito
curtains, and sheets and pillows all trimmed with rich lace, so universal
in Spanish houses, that it is not, as with us, a luxury. But the mosquitoes
had entered in some unguarded moment, and they and the heat were inimical
to sleep.
19th.--I opened my eyes this morning on the painting of a very lovely
Madonna, which hung unvalued and ill-framed, in one corner of the
apartment. At eight, rose and dressed, and went to breakfast. Here, when
there are two guests whom they wish to distinguish, the gentleman is placed
at the head of the table, and _his_ lady beside him.
To me nothing can exceed the sadness of the aspect of this city and of its
environs--mountains of moving sand, formed by the violence of the north
winds, and which, by the reflection of the sun's rays, must greatly
increase the suffocating heat of the atmosphere. The scene may resemble the
ruins of Jerusalem, though without its sublimity. The houses seemed
blackened by fire; there is not a carriage on the streets--nothing but the
men with the wide trousers slit up the side of the leg, immense hats, and
blankets, or _sarapes_, merely a closed blanket, more or less fine, with a
hole for the head to go through; and the women with _reboses_, long
coloured cotton scarfs, or pieces of ragged stuff, thrown over the head and
crossing over the left shoulder. Add to this, the sopilotes cleaning the
streets,--disgusting, but useful scavengers. These valuable birds have
black feathers, with gray heads, beaks, and feet. They fly in troops, and
at night perch upon the trees. They are not republican, nor do they appear
inclined to declare their independence, having kings, to whom it is said
they pay so much respect, that if one of the royal species arrives at the
same time with a plebeian sopilote, in sight of a dead body, the latter
humbly waits till the sovereign has devoured his share, before he ventures
to approach.
A few ladies in black gowns and mantillas called this morning, and various
men. We find the weather sultry. In summer, with greater heat and the
addition of the _vomito_, it must be a chosen city! The principal street,
where we live, is very long and wide, and seems to have many good houses in
it. Nearly opposite is one which seems particularly well kept and handsome,
and where we saw beautiful flowers as we passed. I find it belongs to an
English merchant.
There is much deliberation as to the mode in which we are to travel to
Mexico. Some propose a coach, others a _litera_; others advise us to take
the diligence. While in this indecision, we had a visit this morning from a
remarkable-looking character, Don Miguel S----, agent for the diligence
office in Mexico, a tall, dark, energetic-looking person. He recommends the
diligence, and offers, by accompanying us, to ensure our safety from
accidents. He appears right. The diligence goes in four days, if it does
not break down. The coach takes any time we choose over that; the _literas_
nine or ten days, going slowly on mules with a sedan-chair motion. The
diligence has food and beds provided for it at the inns--the others
nothing. I am in favour of the diligence.
The couple from Havana, whom we passed in the _goleta_, have very coolly
requested permission to accompany us to Mexico, "under the protection of
the _Embajador de Espana_." We should set off in select company.
C---n called this morning on General Victoria. Found his excellency in a
large hall without furniture or ornament of any sort, without even chairs,
and altogether in a style of more than republican simplicity. He has just
returned the visit, accompanied by his colossal aide-de-camp.
General Guadalupe Victoria is perhaps the last man in a crowd whom one
would fix upon as being the owner of the above high-sounding cognomen,
which in fact is not his original, but his assumed name, _Guadalupe_ being
adopted by him in honour of the renowned image of the virgin of that name,
and _Victoria_ with less humility to commemorate his success in battle. He
is an honest, plain, down-looking citizen, lame and tall, somewhat at a
loss for conversation, apparently amiable and good-natured, but certainly
neither courtier nor orator; a man of undeniable bravery, capable of
supporting almost incredible hardships, humane, and who has always proved
himself a sincere lover of what he considered liberty, without ever having
been actuated by ambitious or interested motives.
It is said that his defects were indolence, want of resolution, and too
much reliance on his own knowledge. He is the only Mexican president who
finished as chief magistrate, the term prescribed by the laws. It is
alleged, in proof of his simplicity, though I think it is too absurd to be
true, that having received a despatch with the two-headed eagle on the
seal, he remarked to the astonished envoy who delivered it--"Our arms are
very much alike, only I see that his majesty's eagles have two heads. I
have heard that some of that species exist here, in _tierre caliente_, and
shall have one sent for."
The general is not married, but appears rather desirous of entering the
united state. He strongly recommends us to avoid broken bones by going it
literas, at least as far as Jalapa. Having stumbled about for some time in
search of his cocked-hat, it was handed to him by his aide-de-camp, and he
took leave.
We walked out in the evening to take a look of the environs, with Señor
V---o, the commander of the Jason, and several young ladies of the house.
We walked in the direction of an old church, where it is or was the custom
for young ladies desirous of being married to throw a stone at the saint,
their fortune depending upon the stone's hitting him, so that he is in a
lapidated and dilapidated condition. Such environs! the surrounding houses
black with smoke of powder or with fire--a view of bare red sandhills all
round--not a tree, or shrub, or flower, or bird, except the horrid black
sopilote, or police-officer. All looks as if the prophet Jeremiah had
passed through the city denouncing woe to the dwellers thereof. Such a
melancholy, wholly deserted-looking burial-ground as we saw!
War and revolutions have no doubt done their work, yet I find difficulty in
believing those who speak of Vera Cruz as having been a gay and delightful
residence in former days, though even now, those who have resided here for
any length of time, even foreigners, almost invariably become attached to
it; and as for those born here, they are the truest of patriots, holding up
Vera Cruz as superior to all other parts of the world.
The city was founded by the Viceroy, Count de Monterey, at the end of the
seventeenth century, and ought not to be confounded, as it sometimes is,
with either of the two colonies founded by the first Spaniards. Built in
front of the island of San Juan de Ulua, it has one interesting
recollection attached to it, since on the same arid shores, Cortes
disembarked more than three centuries ago. Unlike the green and fertile
coast which gladdened the eyes of Columbus, the Spanish conqueror beheld a
bleak and burning desert, whose cheerless aspect might well have deterred a
feebler mind from going further in search of the paradise that existed
behind.
We returned to the house, and heard some ladies play upon a harp, so
called, a small, light instrument in that form, but without pedals, so
light, that they can lift it with one hand; and yet the music they bring
from it is surprising; one air after another, a little monotonously, but
with great ease and a certain execution, and with the additional merit of
being self-taught.
I imagine that there must be a great deal of musical taste thrown away
here. There are pianos in almost every house, and one lady, who came to see
me to-day, and whose mother was English, had been extremely well taught,
and played with great taste. They attempted dancing, but having no masters,
can only learn by what they _hear_. On the balcony this evening, it was
delightful, and the moon is a universal beautifier.
21st.--We walked about the city yesterday, and returned visits. The streets
are clean, and some few churches tolerably handsome.
The _Comicos_ came in the morning to offer us the centre box in the
theatre, it being the benefit night of Donna Inocencia Martinez from
Madrid, a favourite of the public, and, in fact, a pretty woman and good
comic actress. The theatre is small, and, they say, generally deserted, but
last night it was crowded. The drop-scene represents the fine arts, who are
so fat, that their condition here must be flourishing. We were, however,
agreeably disappointed in the performance, which was the "Segunda Dama
Duende," nearly a translation from the "Domino Noir," and very amusing;
full of excellent _coups-de-theatre_. Donna Inocencia in her various
characters, as domino, servant-girl, abbess, etc., was very handsome, and
acted with great spirit. Moreover, she and her sister, with two Spaniards,
danced the Jota Aragonesa in perfection, so that we spent a pleasant
evening, upon the whole, within the precincts of the city of the True
Cross.
To-morrow is the day fixed for our departure, and we shall not be sorry to
leave this place, although this house is excellent, a whole suite of rooms
given to us, and neither ceremony nor _gene_ of any sort. The weather is
certainly beautiful. The heat may be a little oppressive in the middle of
the day, but the evenings are cool and delightful.
Departure from Vera Cruz
We had a visit yesterday from the English and French consuls. M.
de ----- prophesies broken arms and dislodged teeth, if we persist in our
plan of taking the diligence,--but all things balanced, we think it
preferable to every other conveyance. General Victoria returned to see
us this morning, and was very civil and amiable, offering very cordially
every service and assistance in his power. We are to rise to-morrow at
two, being invited to breakfast with General Santa Anna, at his
country-seat Manga de Clavo, a few leagues from this.
We have been sitting on the balcony till very late, enjoying the moonlight
and refreshing breeze from the sea, and as we rise before daybreak, our
rest will be but short.
LETTER THE FIFTH
Departure from Vera Cruz--Sandhills--Oriental Scene--Manga de
Clavo--General Santa Anna--Breakfast--Escort and Diligence--Santa
Fe--Puente National--Bridge sketched by Mrs. Ward--Country in
December--Don Miguel--First Impressions--Fruit--Plan del Rio--German
Musicians--Sleeping Captain--Approach to Jalapa--Appearance of the
City--Cofre de Perote-Flowers--House and Rock--Last View of Jalapa--Change
of Scenery--San Miguel de los Soldados--Perote--Striking Scene before
Daybreak--Non-arrival of Escort--Yankee Coachman--Dispute--Departure
--Company of Lancers--Alcalde--Breakfast at La Ventilla--Pulque--Double
Escort--Crosses--Brigand-looking Tavern-keeper--Ojo de Agua--Arrival at
Puebla--Dress of the Peasants--Christmas-eve--Inn--"_Nacimento_."
JALAPA, 23rd December.
Yesterday morning at two o'clock we rose by candlelight, with the pleasant
prospect of leaving Vera Cruz and of seeing Santa Anna. Two boxes, called
carriages, drawn by mules, were at the door, to convey us to Magna de
Clavo. Señor V---o, C---n, the commander of the Jason, and I being encased
in them, we set off half-asleep. By the faint light, we could just
distinguish as we passed the gates, and the carriages ploughed their way
along nothing but sand--sand--as far as the eye could reach; a few leagues
of Arabian desert.
At length we began to see symptoms of vegetation; occasional palm-trees and
flowers, and by the time we had reached a pretty Indian village, where we
stopped to change mules, the light had broke in, and we seemed to have been
transported, as if by enchantment, from a desert to a garden. It was
altogether a picturesque and striking scene; the huts composed of bamboo,
and thatched with palm-leaves, the Indian women with their long black hair
standing at the doors with their half-naked children, the mules rolling
themselves on the ground, according to their favourite fashion, snow-white
goats browsing amongst the palm-trees, and the air so soft and balmy, the
first fresh breath of morning; the dew-drops still glittering on the broad
leaves of the banana and palm, and all around so silent, cool, and still.
The huts, though poor, were clean; no windows, but a certain subdued light
makes its way through the leafy canes. We procured some tumblers of new
milk, and having changed mules, pursued our journey, now no longer through
hills of sand, but across the country, through a wilderness of trees and
flowers, the glowing productions of tierra caliente. We arrived about five
at Manga de Clavo, after passing through leagues of natural garden, the
property of Santa Anna.
The house is pretty, slight-looking, and kept in nice order. We were
received by an aide-de-camp in uniform, and by several officers, and
conducted to a large, cool, agreeable apartment, with little furniture,
into which shortly entered the Señora de Santa Anna, tall, thin, and, at
that early hour of the morning, dressed to receive us in clear white
muslin, with white satin shoes, and with very splendid diamond earrings,
brooch, and rings. She was very polite, and introduced her daughter
Guadalupe, a miniature of her mamma, in features and costume.
In a little while entered General Santa Anna himself; a gentlemanly,
good-looking, quietly-dressed, rather melancholy-looking person, with one
leg, apparently somewhat of an invalid, and to us the most interesting
person in the group. He has a sallow complexion, fine dark eyes, soft and
penetrating, and an interesting expression of face. Knowing nothing of his
past history, one would have said a philosopher, living in dignified
retirement--one who had tried the world, and found that all was
vanity--one who had suffered ingratitude, and who, if he were ever
persuaded to emerge from his retreat, would only do so, Cincinnatus-like,
to benefit his country. It is strange, how frequently this expression of
philosophic-resignation, of placid sadness, is to be remarked on the
countenances of the deepest, most ambitious, and most designing men. C---n
gave him a letter from the Queen, written under the supposition of his
being still President, with which he seemed much pleased, but merely made
the innocent observation, "How very well the Queen writes!"
It was only now and then, that the expression of his eye was startling,
especially when he spoke of his leg, which is cut off below the knee. He
speaks of it frequently, like Sir John Ramorny of his bloody hand, and when
he gives an account of his wound, and alludes to the French on that day,
his countenance assumes that air of bitterness which Ramorny's may have
exhibited when speaking of "Harry the Smith."
Otherwise, he made himself very agreeable, spoke a great deal of the United
States, and of the persons he had known there, and in his manners was quiet
and gentlemanlike, and altogether a more polished hero than I had expected
to see. To judge from the past, he will not long remain in his present
state of inaction, besides having within him, according to Zavala, "a
principle of action for ever impelling him forward."
_En attendant_, breakfast was announced. The Señora de Santa Anna led me
in. C---n was placed at the head of the table, I on his right, Santa Anna
opposite, the Señora on my right. The breakfast was very handsome,
consisting of innumerable Spanish dishes, meat and vegetables, fish and
fowl, fruits and sweatmeats, all served in white and gold French porcelain,
with coffee, wines, etc. After breakfast, the Señora having despatched an
officer for her cigar-case, which was gold, with a diamond latch, offered
me a cigar, which I having declined, she lighted her own, a little paper
"cigarito," and the gentlemen followed her good example.
We then proceeded to look at the out-houses and offices; at the General's
favourite war-horse, an old white charger, probably a sincerer philosopher
than his master; at several game-cocks, kept with especial care,
cock-fighting being a favourite recreation of Santa Anna's; and at his
_litera_, which is handsome and comfortable. There are no gardens, but, as
he observed, the whole country, which for twelve leagues square belongs to
him, is a garden. The appearance of the family says little for the
healthiness of the _locale_; and indeed its beauty and fertility will not
compensate for its insalubrity.
As we had but a few hours to spare, the General ordered round two
carriages, both very handsome, and made in the United States, one of which
conveyed him and C---n, the Señora and me. In the other were the little
girl and the officers; in which order we proceeded across the country to
the high-road, where the diligence and servants, with our guide, Don Miguel
S----, were to overtake us. The diligence not having arrived, we got down
and sat on a stone bench, in front of an Indian cottage, where we talked,
while the young lady amused herself by eating apples, and C---n and the
General remained moralizing in the carriage.
Shortly after, and just as the sun was beginning to give us a specimen of
his power, our lumbering escort of Mexican soldiers galloped up (orders
having been given by the government that a fresh escort shall be stationed
every six leagues) and announced the approach of the diligence. We were
agreeably disappointed by the arrival of a handsome new coach, made in the
United States, drawn by ten good-looking mules, and driven by a smart
Yankee coachman. Our party consisted of ourselves, Don Miguel, the captain
of the Jason and his first lieutenant, who accompany us to Mexico. The day
was delightful, and every one apparently in good-humour. We took leave of
General Santa Anna, his lady and daughter, also of our hospitable
entertainer, Señor V---o; got into the diligence--doors shut--all
right--lash up the mules, and now for Mexico!
Gradually, as in Dante's Commedia, after leaving Purgatory, typified by
Vera Cruz, we seemed to draw nearer to Paradise. The road is difficult, as
the approach to Paradise ought to be, and the extraordinary jolts were
sufficient to prevent us from being too much enraptured by the scenery,
which increased in beauty as we advanced. At Santa Fe and Sopilote we
changed horses, and at Tolome, one of the sites of the civil war, came to
the end of Santa Anna's twelve leagues of property.
We arrived at Puente Nacional, formerly Puente del Rey, celebrated as the
scene of many an engagement during the Revolution, and by occupying which,
Victoria frequently prevented the passage of the Spanish troops, and that
of the convoys of silver to the port. Here we stopped a short time to
admire the beautiful bridge thrown over the river Antigua, with its stone
arches, which brought Mrs. Ward's sketch to my recollection, though it is
very long since I saw the book. We were accompanied by the commander of the
fort. It is now a peaceful-looking scene. We walked to the bridge, pulled
branches of large white flowers, admired the rapid river dashing over the
rocks, and the fine, bold scenery that surrounds it. The village is a mere
collection of huts, with some fine trees.
It was difficult to believe, as we journeyed on, that we were now in the
midst of December. The air was soft and balmy. The heat, without being
oppressive, that of a July day in England. The road through a succession of
woody country; trees covered with every variety of blossom, and loaded with
the most delicious tropical fruits; flowers of every colour filling the air
with fragrance, and the most fantastical profusion of parasitical plants
intertwining the branches of the trees, and flinging their bright blossoms
over every bough. Palms, cocoas, oranges, lemons, succeeded one another,
and at one turn of the road, down in a lovely green valley, we caught a
glimpse of an Indian woman, with her long hair, resting under the shade of
a lofty tree--beside a running stream--an Oriental picture. Had it not been
for the dust and the jolting, nothing could have been more delightful. As
for Don Miguel, with his head out of the window, now desiring the coachman
to go more quietly, now warning us to prepare for a jolt, now pointing out
everything worth looking at, and making light of difficulties, he was the
very best conductor of a journey I ever met with. His hat of itself was a
curiosity to us; a white beaver with immense brim, lined with thick silver
tissue, with two large silver rolls and tassels round it.
One circumstance must be observed by all who travel in Mexican territory.
There is not one human being or passing object to be seen that is not in
itself a picture, or which would not form a good subject for the pencil.
The Indian women with their plaited hair, and little children slung to
their backs, their large straw hats, and petticoats of two colours--the
long strings of arrieros with their loaded mules, and swarthy,
wild-looking faces--the chance horseman who passes with his sarape of many
colours, his high ornamented saddle, Mexican hat, silver stirrups, and
leathern boots--this is picturesque. Salvator Rosa and Hogarth might have
travelled here to advantage, hand-in-hand; Salvator for the sublime, and
Hogarth taking him up where the sublime became the ridiculous.
At La Calera we had a distant view of the sea. Occasionally we stopped to
buy oranges fresh from the trees, pineapples, and granaditas, which are
like Brobdinagian gooseberries, the pulp enclosed in a very thick yellow or
green rind, and very refreshing.
It was about seven in the evening, when very dusty, rather tired, but very
much enchanted with all we had seen, we arrived at Plan del Rio. Here the
diligence passengers generally stop for the night; that is, sleep a few
hours on a hard bed, and rise at midnight to go on to Jalapa. But to this
arrangement, I for one made vociferous objections, and strongly insisted
upon the propriety and feasibility of sleeping at Jalapa that night. Don
Miguel, the most obsequious of dons, declared that it should be exactly as
the Señora ordered.
Accordingly it was agreed that we should wait for the moon, and then pursue
our journey; and meanwhile we walked out to a short distance, to see the
bridge, the river, and the wood. The bridge consists of a single large arch
thrown over the river, and communicating with a great high-road, formerly
paved, but now going to ruin.
We returned to the inn, a long row of small rooms, built of brick and
prettily situated, not far from the water. Here we had the luxury of water
and towels, which enabled us to get rid of a certain portion of dust before
we went to supper.
The diligence from Jalapa has just deposited at the inn, a German with his
wife and child, he bearing so decidedly the stamp of a German musician,
that we at once guessed his calling. They are from Mexico, from whence the
fine arts seem to be taking their flight, and gave a most woeful account of
the road between this and Jalapa.
We had a very tolerable supper; soup, fish, fowls, steak, and frijoles, all
well seasoned with garlic and oil. The jolting had given me too bad a
headache to care for more than coffee. We were strongly advised to remain
the night there, but lazy people know too well what it is to rise in the
middle of the night, especially when they are much fatigued; and when the
moon rose, we packed ourselves once more into the diligence, sufficiently
refreshed to encounter new fatigues. The moon was very bright, and most of
the party prepared themselves for sleep with cigars in their mouths; not a
very easy matter, for the roads were infamous, a succession of holes and
rocks. As we were gradually ascending, the weather became cooler, and from
cool began to grow cold, forcing us to look out for cloaks and shawls. We
could now discern some change in the vegetation, or rather a mingling of
the trees of a colder climate with those of the tropics, especially the
Mexican oak, which begins to flourish here. Fortunately, at one part of the
road, the moon enabled us to see the captain of the escort lying on the
ground fast asleep, his horse standing quietly beside him, he having fallen
off while asleep, and continued his nap. The soldiers shook him up with
some difficulty.
At _Carral falso_ we changed mules, and from the badness of the road,
continued to go slowly.
The cold increased, and at last by the moonlight, we had a distinct view of
the Peak of Orizava, with his white nightcap on (excuse the simile,
suggested by extreme sleepiness), the very sight enough to make one shiver.
As we approached Jalapa, the scene was picturesque. The escort had put on
their _sarapes_, and with their high helmets and feathers, went galloping
along, and dashing amongst the trees and shrubs. Orizava and the Cofre de
Perote shone white in the distance, while a delicious smell of flowers,
particularly of roses, gave token of the land through which we were
passing.
It was nearly two in the morning when we reached Jalapa, tired to death,
and shivering with cold. Greatly we rejoiced as we rattled through its
mountainous streets, and still more when we found ourselves in a nice clean
inn, with brick floors and decent small beds, and everything prepared for
us. The sight of a fire would have been too much luxury; however, they gave
us some hot tea, and very shortly after, I at least can answer for myself,
that I was in bed, and enjoying the most delightful sleep that I have had
since I left New York.
This morning the diligence being at our disposal we did not rise by break
of day, but on the contrary, continued to sleep till eight o'clock. I was
waited on by such a nice, civil, clean little old woman, that I should like
to carry her off with me. Meanwhile, various authorities of the town were
stationed at the door to give C---n welcome when he should appear.
Our breakfast was delicious. Such fresh eggs, and fresh butter, and good
coffee and well-fried chickens; moreover, such good bread and peculiarly
excellent water, that we fell very much in love with Jalapa.
After breakfast we walked out, accompanied by various gentlemen of the
place. The town consists of little more than a few steep streets, very old,
with some large and excellent houses, the best as usual belonging to
English merchants, and many to those of Vera Cruz, who come to live in or
near Jalapa, during the reign of the "_Vomito_." There are some old
churches, a very old convent of Franciscan monks, and a well-supplied
marketplace. Everywhere there are flowers--roses creeping over the old
walls, Indian girls making green garlands for the virgin and saints,
flowers in the shops, flowers at the windows, but, above all, everywhere
one of the most splendid mountain views in the world.
The Cofre de Perote, with its dark pine forests and gigantic _chest_ (a
rock of porphyry which takes that form), and the still loftier snow-white
peak of Orizava, tower above all the others, seeming like the colossal
guardians of the land. The intervening mountains, the dark cliffs and
fertile plains, the thick woods of lofty trees clothing the hills and the
valleys; a glimpse of the distant ocean; the surrounding lanes shaded by
fruit trees: aloes, bananas, chirimoyas, mingled with the green
liquidambar, the flowering myrtle, and hundreds of plants and shrubs and
flowers of every colour and of delicious fragrance, all combine to form one
of the most varied and beautiful scenes that the eye can behold.
Then Jalapa itself, so old and gray, and rose-becovered, with a sound of
music issuing from every open door and window, and its soft and agreeable
temperature, presents, even in a few hours, a series of agreeable
impressions not easily effaced.
But we are now returned to our inn, for it is near noon, and the veil of
clouds, that earlier in the morning enveloped Orizava, has passed away,
leaving its white summit environed by a flood of light. I shall probably
have no opportunity of writing until we reach Puebla.
PUEBLA, 24th.
Yesterday morning we took leave of the _Jalapenos_, and once more found
ourselves _en route_. Such a view of the mountains as we ascended the steep
road! and such flowers and blossoming trees on all sides! Large scarlet
blossoms, and hanging purple and white flowers, and trees covered with
fragrant bell-shaped flowers like lilies, which the people here call the
_floripundio_, together with a profusion of double pink roses that made the
air fragrant as we passed; and here and there a church, a ruined convent,
or a white hacienda. We had the advantage of clear weather, not always to
be found at Jalapa, especially when the north wind, blowing at Vera Cruz,
covers this city and its environs with a dense fog.
We stopped at a small village to change horses (for on leaving Jalapa, our
mules were exchanged for eight strong white horses), and here Don Miguel
made us enter a very pretty house belonging to some female friends of his,
one of whom was very handsome, with a tasteful white turban. The curiosity
of this place is a rock behind the house, covered with roses,
clove-carnations, and every variety of bright flower-tree, together with
oranges, lemons, limes, and cedrats, all growing out of the rock. The
ladies were very civil, though I dare say surprised at our admiration of
their December flowers, and gave us orangeade and cake, with large cedrats
and oranges from the trees; but above all, the most delicious bouquet of
roses and carnations; so that, together with the unknown scarlet and purple
blossoms which the captain of the escort had gathered for me, the diligence
inside looked like an arbour.
We continued our journey, the road ascending towards the tableland, and at
one striking point of view we got out and looked back upon Jalapa, and
round upon a panorama of mountains. Gradually the vegetation changed: fine,
fresh-looking European herbage and trees succeeded the less hardy though
more brilliant trees and flowers of the tropics; the banana and chirimoya
gave place to the strong oak, and higher still, these were interspersed
with the dark green of the pine.
At San Miguel de los Soldados we stopped to take some refreshment. The
country became gradually more bleak, and before arriving at the village of
Las Vigas, nearly all trees had disappeared but the hardy fir, which
flourishes amongst the rocks. The ground for about two leagues was covered
with lava, and great masses of black calcined rock, so that we seemed to be
passing over the crater of a volcano. This part of the country is
deservedly called the _Mal Pais_, and the occasional crosses with their
faded garlands, that gleam in these bleak, volcanic regions, give token
that it may have yet other titles to the name of "Evil Land." The roses and
carnations that I had brought from Jalapa were still unwithered, so that in
a few hours we had passed through the whole scale of vegetation.
The road became steep and dreary, and after passing _Cruz Blanca_,
excepting occasional cornfields and sombre pine-forests, the scene had no
objects of interest sufficient to enable us to keep our eyes open. The sun
was set--it grew dusk, and by the time we reached Perote, where we were to
pass the night, most of us had fallen into an uncomfortable sleep, very
cold and quite stupefied, and too sleepy to be hungry, in spite of finding
a large supper prepared for us.
The inn was dirty, very unlike that at Jalapa, the beds miserable, and we
were quite ready to get up by the light of an unhappy specimen of tallow
which the landlord brought to our doors at two in the morning.
There are some scenes which can never be effaced from our memory, and such
a one was that which took place this morning at Perote at two o'clock, the
moon and the stars shining bright and cold.
Being dressed, I went into the kitchen, where C---n, the officers of the
Jason, Don Miguel, and the Mexican captain of the last night's escort, were
assembled by the light of one melancholy sloping candle, together with a
suspicious-looking landlord, and a few sleepy Indian women with bare feet,
tangled hair, copper faces and reboses. They made us some chocolate with
goat's milk, horrid in general, and rancid in particular.
It appeared that all parties were at a standstill, for, by some mistake in
the orders, the new escort had not arrived, and the escort of the preceding
night could go no further. Don Miguel, with his swarthy face, and great
sarape, was stalking about, rather out of humour, while the captain was
regretting, in very polite tones, with his calm, Arab-looking, impassive
face, that his escort could proceed no further. He seemed to think it
extremely probable that we should be robbed, believed, indeed had just
heard it asserted, that a party of _ladrones_ were looking out for el Señor
Ministro, regretted that he could not assist us, though quite at our
service, and recommended us to wait until the next escort should arrive.
To this advice our conductor would by no means listen. He was piqued that
any detention should occur, and yet aware that it was unsafe to go on. He
had promised to convey us safely, and in four days, to Mexico, and it was
necessary to keep his word. Some one proposed that two of the men should
accompany the diligence upon mules, as probably a couple of these animals
might be procured. The captain observed, that though entirely at our
disposal, two men could be of no manner of use, as, in case of attack,
resistance, except with a large escort, was worse than useless.
Nevertheless it was remarked by some ingenious person, that the robbers
seeing two, might imagine that there were more behind. In short there were
various opinions. One proposed that they should go on the coach, another
that they should go _in_ it. Here I ventured to interpose, begging that
they might ride on mules or go outside, but by no means within. As usual,
it was as the Señora pleased.
At length we all collected before the door of the inn, and a queer group we
must have made by the light of the moon, and a nice caricature, I thought
to myself, our friend Mr. G---- would have made of us, had he been there.
The diligence with eight white horses and a Yankee coachman, originally, no
doubt, called Brown, but now answering to the mellifluous appellation of
_Bruno_; A---- with her French cap, and loaded with sundry mysterious
looking baskets; I with cloak and bonnet; C---n with Greek cap, cloak, and
cigar; the captain of the Jason also with cloak and cigar, and very cold;
the lieutenant in his navy uniform, taking it coolly; Don Miguel, with his
great sarape and silver hat--(six people belonging to five different
countries); the Mexican captain, with his pale impassive face and
moustaches, enveloped in a very handsome sarape, and surrounded by the
sleepy escort of the preceding night; dirty-looking soldiers lounging on
the ground, wrapped in their blankets; the Indian women and the host of the
inn, and a bright moon and starry sky lighting up the whole--the figures in
the foreground, and the lofty snow-clad mountains, and the dismal old town
of Perote itself, that looked gray and sulky at being disturbed so early,
with its old castle of San Carlos, and cold, sterile plains.
Meanwhile, two soldiers with cloaks and arms had climbed up outside of the
coach. The captain remarked that they could not sit there. Bruno made some
reply, upon which the captain very coolly drew his sword, and was about to
put a very decided impediment to our journey by stabbing the coachman, when
Don Miguel, his eyes and cigar all shining angrily, rushed in between them.
High words ensued between him and the captain, and the extreme coolness and
precision with which the latter spoke, was very amusing. It was as if he
were rehearsing a speech from a play. "I always speak frankly," said Don
Miguel, in an angry tone. "And I," said the captain, in a polite, measured
voice, "am also accustomed to speak my mind with extreme frankness. I
regret, however, that I did not at the moment perceive the Señora at the
door, otherwise," etc.
At length the two little men, who with their arms and sarapes looked like
bundles of ammunition, and who, half asleep, had been by some zealous
person, probably by our friend Bruno, tumbled upon the diligence like
packages, were now rolled off it, and finally tumbled upon mules, and we
got into the coach. Don Miguel, with his head out of the window, and not
very easy in his mind, called up the two bundles and gave them directions
as to their line of conduct in a stage whisper, and they trotted off,
primed with valour, while we very cold and (I answer for myself) rather
frightened, proceeded on our way. The earliness of the hour was probably
our salvation, as we started two hours before the usual time, and thus
gained a march upon the gentlemen of the road.
We were not sorry, however, when at our first halting-place, and whilst
we, were changing horses, we descried a company of lancers at full gallop,
with a very good-looking officer at their head, coming along the road;
though when first I heard the sound of horses' hoofs, clattering along,
and, by the faint light, discerned the horsemen enveloped as they were in a
cloud of dust, I felt sure that they were a party of robbers. The captain
made many apologies for the delay, and proceeded to inform us that the
alcaldes of Tepeyagualco, La Ventilla, and of some other villages, whose
names I forget, had for twenty days prepared a breakfast in expectation of
his Excellency's arrival:--whether twenty breakfasts, or the same one cold,
or _réchauffé_, we may never know.
The captain had a very handsome horse, which he caused to _caracolear_ by
the side of the diligence, and put at my disposal with a low bow, every
time I looked at it. He discoursed with C---n of robbers and wars, and of
the different sites which these gentry most affected, and told him how his
first wife had been shot by following him in some engagement, yet how his
second wife invariably followed him also.
Arrived at Tepeyagualco, after having passed over a succession of sterile
plains covered with scanty pasture, an alcalde advanced to meet the
diligence, and hospitably made C---n an offer of the before-mentioned
twenty days' entertainment, which he with many thanks declined. Who ate
that breakfast, is buried in the past. Whether the alcalde was glad or
sorry, did not appear. He vanished with a profusion of bows, and was
followed by a large, good-looking Indian woman, who stood behind him while
he made his discourse. Perhaps they eat together the long-prepared feast;
which was at least one of the many tributes paid to the arrival of the
first messenger of peace from the mother-country.
At La Ventilla, however, we descended with a good appetite, and found
several authorities waiting to give C---n a welcome. Here they gave us
delicious chirimoyas, a natural custard, which we liked even upon a first
trial, also granaditas, bananas, sapotes, etc. Here also I first tasted
_pulque;_ and on a first impression it appears to me, that as nectar was
the drink in Olympus, we may fairly conjecture that Pluto cultivated the
maguey in his dominions. The taste and smell combined took me so completely
by surprise, that I am afraid my look of horror must have given mortal
offence to the worthy alcalde who considers it the most delicious beverage
in the world; and in fact, it is said, that when one gets over the first
shock, it is very agreeable. The difficulty must consist in getting over
it.
After a tolerable breakfast, hunger making chile and garlic supportable, we
continued our route; and were informed that the robbers, having grown very
daring, and the next stage being very dangerous, our escort was to be
doubled. Since we left Perote, the country had gradually become more
dreary, and we had again got into the "_mal pais_," where nothing is to be
seen but a few fir-trees and pines, dark and stunted, black masses of lava,
and an occasional white cross to mark either where a murder has been
committed, or where a celebrated robber has been buried. Of each, Don
Miguel gave us a succinct account. Some lines of Childe Harold suit this
scene as if written for it:
"And here and there, as up the crags you spring,
Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path:
Yet deem not these devotion's offering--
These are memorials frail of murderous wrath;
For, wheresoe'er the shrieking victim hath
Pour'd forth his blood beneath the assassin's knife,
Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath;
And grove and glen with thousand such are rife,
Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life."
The whole scene was wild and grand, yet dreary and monotonous, presenting
the greatest contrast possible to our first day's journey. The only signs
of life to be met with were the long strings of arrieros with their droves
of mules, and an occasional Indian hut, with a few miserable half-naked
women and children.
At one small, wild-looking inn, where, very cold and miserable, we stopped,
some hot wine was brought us, which was very acceptable. The tavern-keeper,
for it was no more than a spirit-shop, if not a robber, had all the
appearance of one; wild, melancholy, and with a most sinister expression of
countenance. Salvator never drew a more bandit-looking figure, as he stood
there with his blanket and slouched hat, and a knife in his belt, tall and
thin and muscular, with his sallow visage and his sad, fierce eyes.
However, he showed us the marks on his door, where a band of twenty robbers
had broken in one night, and robbed some travellers, who were sleeping
there, of a large sum of money.
C---n asked him how the robbers treated the women when they fell into their
power. "_Las saludan_," said he, "and sometimes carry them off to the
mountains, but rarely, and chiefly when they are afraid of their giving
information against them."
At _Ojo de Agua_, where we changed horses, we saw the accommodations which
those who travel in private coach or litera must submit to, unless they
bring their own beds along with them, and a stock of provisions besides a
common room like a barn, where all must herd together; and neither chair,
nor table, nor food to be had. It was a solitary-looking house, standing
lonely on the plain, with a few straggling sheep nibbling the brown grass
in the vicinity. A fine spring of water from which it takes its name, and
Orizaya, which seems to have travelled forward, and stands in bold outline
against the sapphire sky, were all that we saw there worthy notice.
We changed horses at Nopaluca, Acagete and Amosoque, all small villages,
with little more than the POSADA, and a few poor houses, and all very
dirty. The country, however, improves in cultivation and fertility, though
the chief trees are the sombre pines. Still accompanied by our two escorts,
which had a very grandiloquent effect, we entered, by four o'clock, Puebla
de los Angeles, the second city to Mexico (after Guadalajara) in the
republic, where we found very fine apartments prepared for us in the inn,
and where, after a short rest and a fresh toilet, we went out to see what
we could of the city before it grew dusk, before it actually became what it
now is, CHRISTMAS-EVE!
It certainly does require some time for the eye to become accustomed to the
style of building adopted in the Spanish colonies. There is something at
first sight exceedingly desolate-looking in these great wooden doors, like
those of immense barns, the great iron-barred windows, the ill-paved
courtyards, even the flat roofs; and then the streets, where, though this
is a fête-day, we see nothing but groups of peasants or of beggars--the
whole gives the idea of a total absence of comfort. Yet the streets of
Puebla are clean and regular, the houses large, the cathedral magnificent,
and the plaza spacious and handsome.
The cathedral was shut, and is not to be opened till midnight mass, which I
regret the less as we must probably return here some day.
The dress of the Poblana peasants is pretty, especially on fête-days. A
white muslin chemise, trimmed with lace round the skirt, neck, and sleeves,
which are plaited neatly; a petticoat shorter than the chemise, and divided
into two colours, the lower part made generally of a scarlet and black
stuff, a manufacture of the country, and the upper part of yellow satin,
with a satin vest of some bright colour, and covered with gold or silver,
open in front, and turned back. This vest may be worn or omitted, as suits
the taste of the wearer. It is without sleeves, but has straps; the hair
plaited in two behind, and the plaits turned up and fastened together by a
diamond ring; long earrings, and all sorts of chains and medals and
tinkling things worn round the neck. A long, broad, coloured sash,
something like an officer's belt, tied behind after going twice or thrice
round the waist, into which is stuck a silver cigar-case. A small coloured
handkerchief like a broad ribbon, crossing over the neck, is fastened in
front with a brooch, the ends trimmed with silver, and going through the
sash. Over all is thrown a reboso, not over the head, but thrown on like a
scarf; and they wear silk stockings, or more commonly no stockings, and
white satin shoes trimmed with silver.
This is on holidays. On common occasions, the dress is the same, but the
materials are more common, at least the vest with silver is never worn; but
the chemise is still trimmed with lace, and the shoes are satin.
Christmas-eve in Puebla! The room is filled with visitors, who have come to
congratulate C---n on his arrival, and a wonderfully handsome room it is,
to do it justice, with chairs and sofas of scarlet stuff. But I was anxious
to see _something_. As we are to leave Puebla very early, I am prohibited
from going to the midnight mass. I proposed the theatre, where there is to
be a _Nacimiento_, a representation in figures of various events connected
with the Birth of Christ; such as the Annunciation, the Holy Family, the
Arrival of the Wise Men of the East, etc. But after some deliberation, it
was agreed that this would not do; so finding that there is nothing to be
done, and tired of polite conversation, I betake myself to bed.
Christmas-day.
It is now about three o'clock, but I was awakened an hour ago by the sounds
of the hymns which ushered in Christmas morning; and looking from the
window, saw, by the faint light, bands of girls dressed in white, singing
in chorus through the streets.
We have just taken chocolate, and, amidst a profusion of bows and
civilities from the landlord, are preparing to set off for Mexico.
LETTER THE SIXTH
Departure from Puebla--Chirimoyas--Rio Frio--Indian Game--Black
Forest--Valley of Mexico--Recollections of Tenochtitlan--Mexican
Officer--Reception--Scenery--Variety of Dresses--Cheers--Storm of
Rain--Entry to Mexico--Buenavista--House by Daylight--Sights from the
Windows--Visits--Mexican Etiquette--Countess C----a--Flowers in
December--Serenade--Patriotic Hymn.
Mexico, 26th December.
We left Puebla between four and five in the morning, as we purposely made
some delay, not wishing to reach Mexico too early; and in so doing, acted
contrary to the advice of Don Miguel, who was generally right in these
matters. The day was very fine when we set off, though rain was predicted.
Some of the gentlemen had gone to the theatre the night before, to see the
_Nacimiento_, and the audience had been composed entirely of _Gentuza_, the
common people, who were drinking brandy and smoking; so it was fortunate
that we had not shown our faces there.
The country was now flat but fertile, and had on the whole more of a
European look than any we had yet passed through.
At Rio Prieto, a small village, where we changed horses, I found that I had
been sitting very comfortably with my feet in a basket of chirimoyas, and
that my bordequins, white gown, and cloak, had been all drenched with the
milky juice, and then made black by the floor of the diligence.
With no small difficulty a trunk was brought down, and another dress
procured, to the great amusement of the Indian women, who begged to know if
my gown was the _last fashion_, and said it was "_muy guapa,_" very pretty.
Here we found good hot coffee, and it being Christmas-day, every one was
cleaned and dressed for mass.
At Rio Frio, which is about thirteen leagues from Mexico, and where there
is a pretty good posada in a valley surrounded by woods, we stopped to
dine. The inn was kept by a Bordelaise and her husband, who wish themselves
in Bordeaux twenty times a day. In front of the house some Indians were
playing at a curious and very ancient game--a sort of swing, resembling
"_El Juego de los Voladores,_" "The game of the flyers," much in vogue
amongst the ancient Mexicans. Our French hostess gave us a good dinner,
especially excellent potatoes, and jelly of various sorts, regaling us with
plenty of stories of robbers and robberies and horrid murders all the
while. On leaving Rio Frio, the road became more hilly and covered with
woods, and we shortly entered the tract known by the name of the Black
Forest, a great haunt for banditti, and a beautiful specimen of forest
scenery, a succession of lofty oaks, pines, and cedars, with wild flowers
lighting up their gloomy green. But I confess that the impatience which I
felt to see Mexico, the idea that in a few hours we should actually be
there, prevented me from enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and made the
road appear interminable.
But at length we arrived at the heights looking down upon the great valley,
celebrated in all parts of the world, with its framework of everlasting
mountains, its snow-crowned volcanoes, great lakes, and fertile plains,
all surrounding the favoured city of Montezuma, the proudest boast of his
conqueror, once of Spain's many diadems the brightest. But the day had
overcast, nor is this the most favourable road for entering Mexico. The
innumerable spires of the distant city were faintly seen. The volcanoes
were enveloped in clouds, all but their snowy summits, which seemed like
marble domes towering into the sky. But as we strained our eyes to look
into the valley, it all appeared to me rather like a vision of the Past
than the actual breathing Present. The curtain of Time seemed to roll back,
and to discover to us the great panorama that burst upon the eye of Cortes
when he first looked down upon the table-land; the king-loving, God-fearing
conqueror, his loyalty and religion so blended after the fashion of ancient
Spain, that it were hard to say which sentiment exercised over him the
greater sway. The city of Tenochtitlan, standing in the midst of the five
great lakes, upon verdant and flower-covered islands, a western Venice,
with thousands of boats gliding swiftly along its streets, long lines of
low houses, diversified by the multitudes of pyramidal temples, the
Teocalli, or houses of God--canoes covering the mirrored lakes--the lofty
trees, the flowers, and the profusion of water now wanting to the
landscape--the whole fertile valley enclosed by its eternal hills and
snow-crowned volcanoes--what scenes of wonder and of beauty to burst upon
the eyes of these wayfaring men!
Then the beautiful gardens surrounding the city, the profusion of flowers,
and fruit, and birds--the mild bronze-coloured Emperor himself advancing in
the midst of his Indian nobility, with rich dress and unshod feet, to
receive his unbidden and unwelcome guest--the slaves and the gold and the
rich plumes, all to be laid at the feet of "His most sacred Majesty"--what
pictures are called up by the recollection of the simple narrative of
Cortes, and how forcibly they return to the mind now, when, after a lapse
of three centuries, we behold for the first time the city of palaces raised
upon the ruins of the Indian capital. It seemed scarcely possible that we
were indeed so near the conclusion of our journey, and in the midst of so
different a scene, only two months minus two days since leaving New York
and stepping aboard the Norma. How much land and sea we had passed over
since then! How much we had seen! How many different climates, even in the
space of the last four days!
But my thoughts which had wandered three centuries into the past, were soon
recalled to the present by the arrival of an officer in full uniform at the
head of his troop, who came out by order of the government to welcome the
bearer of the olive-branch from ancient Spain, and had been on horseback
since the day before, expecting our arrival. As it had begun to rain, the
officer, Colonel Miguel Andrade, accepted our offer of taking shelter in
the diligence. We had now a great troop galloping along with us, and had
not gone far before we perceived that in spite of the rain, and that it
already began to grow dusk, there were innumerable carriages and horsemen
forming an immense crowd, all coming out to welcome us. Shortly after the
diligence was stopped, and we were requested to get into a very splendid
carriage, all crimson and gold, with the arms of the republic, the eagle
and nopal, embroidered in gold on the roof inside, and drawn by four
handsome white horses. In the midst of this immense procession of troops,
carriages, and horsemen, we made our entry into the city of Montezuma.
The scenery on this side of Mexico is arid and flat, and where the waters
of the Lagunas, covered with their gay canoes, once surrounded the city,
forming canals through its streets, we now see melancholy marshy lands,
little enlivened by great flights of wild duck and waterfowl. But the
bleakness of the natural scenery was concealed by the gay appearance of the
procession--the scarlet and gold uniforms, the bright-coloured sarapes, the
dresses of the gentlemen (most, I believe, Spaniards), with their handsome
horses, high Mexican saddles, gold-embroidered _anqueras_ generally of
black fur, their Mexican hats ornamented with gold, richly-furred jackets,
pantaloons with hanging silver buttons, stamped-leather boots, silver
stirrups, and graceful mangas with black or coloured velvet capes.
At the gates of Mexico the troops halted, and three enthusiastic cheers
were given as the carriage entered. It was now nearly dusk, and the rain
was falling in torrents, yet we met more carriages full of ladies and
gentlemen, which joined the others. We found that a house, in the suburbs
at Buenavista, had been taken for us _provisoirement_ by the kindness of
the Spaniards, especially of a rich merchant who accompanied us in the
carriage, Don M---l M---z del C---o; consequently we passed all through
Mexico before reaching our destination, always in the midst of the crowd,
on account of which and of the ill-paved streets we went very slowly.
Through the rain and the darkness we got an occasional faint lamp-light
glimpse of high buildings, churches, and convents. Arrived at length in the
midst of torrents of rain, C---n got out of the carriage and returned
thanks for his reception, giving some ounces to the sergeant for the
soldiers. We then entered the house, accompanied by the Mexican officer,
and by a large party of Spaniards.
We found the house very good, especially considering that it had been
furnished for us in eight-and-forty hours, and we also found an excellent
supper smoking on the table; after doing justice to which we took leave of
our friends, and, very tired, prepared for sleep.
The servants and luggage arrived late. They had been left with the
diligence, under the guardianship of Don Miguel, and it appeared that the
robbers had mingled with the crowd, and followed in hopes of plunder;
insomuch that he had been obliged to procure two carriages, one for the
servants, while into another he put the luggage, mounting in front himself
to look out. Tired enough the poor man was, and drenched with rain; and we
found that much of this confusion and difficulty, which was chiefly caused
by the storm and darkness, would have been avoided had we left Puebla some
hours sooner.
However, "All's well that ends well." I thought of Christmas in "Merrie
England," and of our family gatherings in the olden time, and as if one had
not travelled enough in the body, began travelling in the mind, away to far
different, and distant, and long gone-by scenes, fell asleep at length with
my thoughts in Scotland, and wakened in Mexico!
By daylight we find our house very pretty, with a large garden adjoining,
full of flowers, and rosebushes in the courtyard, but being all on the
ground-floor, it is somewhat damp, and the weather, though beautiful, is so
cool in the morning, that carpets, and I sometimes think even a _soupcon_
of fire, would not be amiss. The former we shall soon procure, but there
are neither chimneys nor grates, and I have no doubt a fire would be
disagreeable for more than an hour or so in the morning. The house stands
alone, with a large court before it, and opposite to it passes the great
stone aqueduct, a magnificent work of the Spaniards, though not more so,
probably, than those which supplied the ancient Tenochtitlan with water.
Behind it we see nothing but several old houses, with trees, so that we
seem almost in the country. To the right is one large building, with garden
and olive-ground, where the English legation formerly lived, a palace in
size, since occupied by Santa Anna, and which now belongs to Señor Perez
Galvez; a house which we shall be glad to have, if the proprietor will
consent to let it.
But what most attracts our attention are the curious and picturesque groups
of figures which we see from the windows--men bronze-colour, with nothing
but a piece of blanket thrown round them, carrying lightly on their heads
earthen basins, precisely the colour of their own skin, so that they look
altogether like figures of terra cotta: these basins filled with sweetmeats
or white pyramids of grease (_mantequilla_); women with rebosos, short
petticoats of two colours, generally all in rags, yet with a lace border
appearing on their under garment: no stockings, and dirty white satin
shoes, rather shorter than their small brown feet; gentlemen on horseback
with their Mexican saddles and sarapes; lounging _léperos_, moving bundles
of rags, coming to the windows and begging with a most piteous but false
sounding whine, or lying under the arches and lazily inhaling the air and
the sunshine, or sitting at the door for hours basking in the sun or under
the shadow of the wall: Indian women, with their tight petticoat of dark
stuff and tangled hair, plaited with red ribbon, laying down their baskets
to rest, and meanwhile deliberately _examining_ the hair of their copper-
coloured offspring. We have enough to engage our attention for the present.
Several visitors came early--gentlemen, both Spaniards and Mexicans. Señor
A---z, decidedly the ugliest man I ever beheld, with a hump on his back,
and a smile of most portentous hideosity, yet celebrated for his _bonnes
fortunes_; Señor de G---a, Ex-Minister of the Treasury, extremely witty and
agreeable, and with some celebrity as a dramatic writer; Count C---a,
formerly attached to the bedchamber in Spain, married to a pretty
Andalusian, and entirely Mexicanized, his heart where his interests are. He
is very gentlemanlike and distinguished-looking, with good manners, and
extremely eloquent in conversation. I hear him called "_inconsecuente_,"
and capricious, but he has welcomed C---n, who knew him intimately in
Madrid, with all the warmth of ancient friendship.
We are told that a great serenade has been for some time in contemplation,
to be given to C---n, the words, music, and performance by the young
Spaniards here.
27th.--A day or two must elapse before I can satisfy my curiosity by going
out, while the necessary arrangements are making concerning carriage and
horses, or mules, servants, etc.; our vehicles from the United States not
having yet arrived,--nor is it difficult to foresee, even from once passing
through the streets, that only the more solid-built English carriages will
stand the wear and tear of a Mexican life, and that the comparatively
flimsy coaches which roll over the well-paved streets of New York, will not
endure for any length of time.
Meanwhile we have constant visits, but chiefly from gentlemen and from
Spaniards, for there is one piece of etiquette, entirely Mexican, nor can I
imagine from whence derived, by which it is ordained that all new arrivals,
whatever be their rank, foreign Ministers not excepted, must in solemn
print give notice to every family of any consideration in the capital, that
they have arrived, and offer themselves and their house to their
"_disposición_;" failing in which etiquette, the newly-arrived family will
remain unnoticed and unknown. Our cards to this effect are consequently
being printed under the auspices of Count C---a. I have, however, received
the visits of some ladies who have kindly waived this ceremony in my
favour; and amongst others, from the Dowager and the young Countess of
C---a; the eldest a very distinguished woman, of great natural talent, one
of the true ladies of the old school, of whom not many specimens now remain
in Mexico; the other extremely pretty, lively, and amiable, a true
Andalusian both in beauty and wit. The old Countess was dressed in black
velvet, black blonde mantilla, diamond earrings and brooch--her daughter-
in-law also in black, with a mantilla, and she had a pretty little daughter
with her, whose eyes will certainly produce a kindling effect on the next
generation.
They were both extremely kind and cordial; if there are many such persons
in Mexico, we shall have no reason to complain. I hope I am not seeing the
cream before the milk!
Some Mexican visits appear to me to surpass in duration all that one can
imagine of a visit, rarely lasting less than one hour, and sometimes
extending over a greater part of the day. And gentlemen, at least, arrive
at no particular time. If you are going to breakfast, they go also--if to
dinner, the same--if you are asleep, they wait till you awaken--if out,
they call again. An indifferent sort of man, whose name I did not even
hear, arrived yesterday, a little after breakfast, sat still, and walked in
to a late dinner with us! These should not be called visits, but
visitations,--though I trust they do not often occur to that extent. An
open house and an open table for your friends, which includes every passing
acquaintance; these are merely Spanish habits of hospitality transplanted.
Had a visit from Señor ----- and his wife, very civil and obliging people,
always agreeing with each other, and with you, and with all the world,
almost to the extent of Polonius to Hamlet. Our conversation reminded me of
that the whole time they were here.
I have just brought from the garden a lapful of pink roses,
clove-carnations, and sweet-peas. Rosetta could not sing here--
"For June and December will never agree."
The weather is lovely, the air fresh and clear, the sky one vast expanse of
bright blue, without a single cloud. Early this morning it was cool, but
now, by ten o'clock, the air is as soft and balmy as on a summer-day with
us.
28th.--Day of the memorable serenade. After dinner some ladies paid me a
visit, amongst others the wife and daughter of the Spanish consul, Señor
M---y, who were accompanied by the sister of Count A---a. They and a few
gentlemen arrived about six o'clock, and it was said that the serenade
would not begin till twelve. It may be supposed that our conversation,
however agreeable it might be, would scarcely hold out that time. In fact,
by nine o'clock, we were all nearly overcome by sleep, and by ten I believe
we were already in a refreshing slumber, when we were awakened by the sound
of crowds assembling before the door, and of carriages arriving and
stopping. Not knowing who the occupants might be, we could not invite them
in, which seemed very inhospitable, as the night, though fine, was cold and
chilly. About eleven the Count and Countess C---a arrived, and the Señora
de G----, a remarkably handsome woman, a Spaniard, looking nearly as young
as her daughters; also the pretty daughters of the proprietress of this
house, who was a beauty, and is married to her third husband; and a lively
little talkative person, the Señora de L---n, all Spanish; and who, some on
that account, and others from their husbands having been former friends of
C---n's have not waited for the ceremony of receiving cards. Gradually,
however, several Mexican ladies, whom we had sent out to invite, came in.
Others remained in their carriages, excusing themselves on the plea of
their not being _en toilette_. We had men _à discrétion_, and the rooms
were crowded.
About midnight arrived a troop of Mexican soldiers, carrying torches, and a
multitude of musicians, both amateur and professional, chiefly the former,
and men carrying music-stands, violins, violoncellos, French horns, etc.,
together with an immense crowd, mingled with numbers of léperos, so that
the great space in front of the house as far as the aqueduct, and all
beyond and along the street as far as we could see, was covered with people
and carriages. We threw open the windows, which are on a level with the
ground, with large balconies and wide iron gratings, and the scene by the
torch-light was very curious. The Mexican troops holding lights for the
musicians, and they of various countries, Spanish, German, and Mexican; the
léperos, with their ragged blankets and wild eyes, that gleamed in the
light of the torches; the ladies within, and the crowd without, all formed
a very amusing _spectacle_.
At length the musicians struck up in full chorus, accompanied by the whole
orchestra. The voices were very fine, and the instrumental music so good, I
could hardly believe that almost all were amateur performers.
A hymn, which had been composed for the occasion, and of which we had
received an elegantly-bound copy in the morning, was particularly
effective. The music was composed by Señor Retes, and the words by Señor
Covo, both Spaniards. Various overtures from the last operas were played,
and at the end of what seemed to be the first act, in the midst of
deafening applause from the crowd, C---n made me return thanks from the
window in beautiful impromptu Spanish! Then came shouts of "Viva la
Espana!" "Viva Ysabel Segunda!" "Viva el Ministro de Espana!" Great and
continued cheering. Then C---n gave in return, "Viva la Republica
Mexicana!" "Viva Bustamente!" and the shouting was tremendous. At last an
Andalusian in the crowd shouted out, "Viva todo el Mundo!" (Long live
everybody), which piece of wit was followed by general laughter.
After hot punch and cigars had been handed about out of doors, a necessary
refreshment in this cold night, the music recommenced, and the whole ended
with the national hymn of Spain, with appropriate words. A young Spanish
girl, whose voice is celebrated here, was then entreated by those within,
and beseeched by those without, to sing alone the hymn composed in honour
of C---n, which she naturally felt some hesitation in doing before such an
immense audience. However, she consented at last, and in a voice like a
clarion, accompanied by the orchestra, sung each verse alone, joined in the
chorus by the whole crowd. I give you a copy:
Himno Patriotico que varios Espanoles, Residentes en Mexico, dedican al
Esmo. Sr. Don A---- C---- de la B----, Ministro Plenipotenciario de S. M.
C. en la República, con Motivo de su Llegada a dicha Capital.
Música del Sr. J. N. DE RETES; Palabras del Sr. DN. JUAN COVO.
CORO.
Triunfamos, amigos,
Triunfamos enfin,
Y libre respir
La Patria del Cid.
La augusta _Cristina_,
De Espana embeleso,
El mas tierno beso
Imprime á _Ysabel_:
Y "Reina," le dice,
"No ya sobre esclavos;
Sobre Iberos bravos,
Sobre un pueblo fiel."
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Donde está de Carlos
La perfida hueste?
Un rayo celeste
Polvo la tornó.
Rayo que al malvado
Hundio en el abismo--
Rayo que al Carlismo
_Libertad_ lanzó.
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Al bravo Caudillo,
Al bueno, al valiente,
Ciñamos la frente
De mirto y laurel.
Tu diestra animosa,
Heroico guerrero,
Tu _diestra, Espartero_,
Sojuzgó al infiel.
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Veranse acatadas
Nuestras santas leyes;
Temblarán los Reyes
De España al poder.
Y el cetro de oprobrio,
Si empuna un tirano,
De su infame mano
Le harémos caer.
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Salud á _Ysabela_,
Salud á _Cristina_,
Quel el cielo destina
La patria á salvar.
Y el libre corone
La candida frente
De aquella inocente
Que juró amparar.
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Y tu, mensagero
De paz y ventura,
Oye la voz pura
De nuestra lealtad.
Oye los acentos
Que al cielo elevamos,
Oye cual gritamos,
_Patria! Libertad!_
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
Tu el simbolo digno
Serás, C---n,
De grata reunion,
De eterna amistad,
Que ya, en ambos mundos,
La insana discordía
Trocóse en concordía
Y fraternidad.
Triunfamos, amigos, etc.
TRANSLATION.
Patriotic Hymn which various Spaniards, resident in Mexico, dedicate to his
Excellency Señor Don A---- C---- de la B----, Minister Plenipotentiary and
Envoy Extraordinary from H. C. M. to the Republic, to celebrate his arrival
in this Capital.
The music by Señor Don J. N. De Retes; the words by Señor Don Juan Covo.
CHORUS.
Let us triumph, my friends,
Let us triumph at length,
And let the country of the Cid
Breathe freely again.
The august Christina,
The ornament of Spain,
Imprinted the most tender kiss
On the cheek of Isabel.
And "Reign," she said to her,
"Not now over slaves,
But over _brave Iberians_,
Over a faithful people!"
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
Where is the perfidious
Army of Carlos?
A celestial thunderbolt
Has turned it to dust--
A thunderbolt which plunged
The wicked one into the abyss--
A thunderbolt which _Liberty_
Launched against Carlism.
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
Of the brave chief,
Of the good, the valiant,
Let us gird the forehead
With myrtle and laurel.
Thy brave right hand,
Heroic warrior,
Thy right hand, _Espartero_,
Subdued the disloyal one.
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
Our holy laws
Will be acknowledged,
And kings will tremble
At the power of Spain;
And should a tyrant grasp
The sceptre of opprobrium,
From his infamous hand
We shall cause it to fall.
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
Health to _Isabella_,
Health to _Christina_,
Whom Heaven has destined
To save the country;
And may he freely crown
The white forehead
Of the innocent princess
He swore to protect.
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
And thou, messenger
Of peace and joy,
Hear the pure voice
Of our loyalty;
Hear the accents
Which we raise to Heaven;
Hear what we cry,
_Country_! _Liberty_!
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
Thou, C---n, shalt be
The worthy symbol
Of grateful reunion,
Of eternal friendship,
Which already has changed,
In both worlds,
Insane discord
Into concord and fraternity.
Let us triumph, my friends, etc.
The air was rent with vivas! and bravos! as the Señorita de F----
concluded. Her voice was beautiful, and after the first moment of
embarrassment, she sang with much spirit and enthusiasm. This was the
finale of the serenade, and then the serenaders were invited in, and were
in such numbers that the room would scarcely hold them all. More cigars,
more punch, more giving of thanks. About three o'clock the crowd began to
disperse, and at length, after those Spanish leave-takings, which are
really no joke, had ended, Captain E----, C---n, and I, all three
excessively cold and shivering, having passed the night at the open
windows, consoled ourselves with hot chocolate and punch, and went to dream
of sweet-sounding harmonies. Altogether, it was a scene which I would not
have missed for a great deal.
The enthusiasm caused by the arrival of the first Minister from Spain seems
gradually to increase. The actors are to give him a "_función
extraordinaria_," in the theatre--the matadors a bull-fight extraordinary,
with fireworks. ... But in all this you must not suppose there is any
personal compliment. It is merely intended as a mark of good will towards
the first representative of the Spanish monarchy who brings from the
mother-country the formal acknowledgment of Mexican independence.
LETTER THE SEVENTH
Debut in Mexico--Cathedral--Temple of the Aztecs--Congregation--Stone of
Sacrifices--Palace--Importunate Léperos--Visit to the President--Countess
C---a--Street-cries--Tortilleras--_Sartor Resartus_.
I made my _début_ in Mexico by going to mass in the cathedral. We drove
through the Alameda, near which we live, and admired its noble trees,
flowers, and fountains, all sparkling in the sun. We met but few carriages
there, an occasional gentleman on horseback, and a few solitary-looking
people resting on the stone benches, also plenty of beggars, and the
_forçats_ in chains, watering the avenues. We passed through the Calle San
Francisco, the handsomest street in Mexico, both as to shops and houses
(containing, amongst others, the richly-carved but now half-ruined palace
of Yturbide), and which terminates in the great square where stand the
cathedral and the palace. The streets were crowded, it being a holiday; and
the purity of the atmosphere, with the sun pouring down upon the
bright-coloured groups, and these groups so picturesque, whether of
soldiers or monks, peasants or veiled ladies; the very irregularity of the
buildings, the number of fine churches and old convents, and everything on
so grand a scale, even though touched by the finger of time, or crushed by
the iron heel of revolution, that the attention is constantly kept alive,
and the interest excited.
The carriage drew up in front of the cathedral, built upon the site of part
of the ruins of the great temple of the Aztecs; of that pyramidal temple,
constructed by _Ahuitzotli_, the sanctuary so celebrated by the Spaniards,
and which comprehended with all its different edifices and sanctuaries, the
ground on which the cathedral now stands, together with part of the plaza
and streets adjoining.
We are told, that within its enclosure were five hundred dwellings, that
its hall was built of stone and lime, and ornamented with stone serpents.
We hear of its four great gates, fronting the four cardinal points of its
stone-paved court, great stone stairs, and sanctuaries dedicated to the
gods of war; of the square destined for religious dances, and the colleges
for the priests, and seminaries for the priestesses; of the horrible
temple, whose door was an enormous serpent's mouth; of the temple of
mirrors and that of shells; of the house set apart for the emperor's
prayers; of the consecrated fountains, the birds kept for sacrifice, the
gardens for the holy flowers, and of the terrible towers composed of the
skulls of the victims--strange mixture of the beautiful and the horrible!
We are told that five thousand priests chanted night and day in the Great
Temple, to the honour and in the service of the monstrous idols, who were
anointed thrice a day with the most precious perfumes; and that of these
priests the most austere were clothed in black, their long hair dyed with
ink, and their bodies anointed with the ashes of burnt scorpions and
spiders; their chiefs were the sons of kings.
It is remarkable, by the way, that their god of war, _Mejitli_, was said to
have been born of a woman, _a Holy Virgin_, who was in the service of the
temple; and that when the priests, having knowledge of her disgrace, would
have stoned her, a voice was heard, saying, "Fear not, mother, for I shall
save thy honour and my glory," upon which the god was born, with a shield
in his left hand, an arrow in his right, a plume of green feathers on his
head, his face painted blue, and his left leg adorned with feathers! Thus
was his gigantic statue represented.
There were gods of the Water, of the Earth, of Night, Fire, and Hell;
goddesses of Flowers and of Corn: there were oblations offered of bread and
flowers and jewels, but we are assured that from twenty to fifty thousand
human victims were sacrificed annually in Mexico alone! That these accounts
are exaggerated, even though a bishop is among the narrators, we can
scarcely doubt; but if the tenth part be truth, let the memory of Cortes be
sacred, who, with the cross, stopped the shedding of innocent blood,
founded the cathedral on the ruins of the temple which had so often
resounded with human groans, and in the place of these blood-smeared idols
enshrined the mild form of the Virgin.
Meanwhile we entered the Christian edifice, which covers an immense space
of ground, is of the Gothic form, with two lofty ornamented towers, and is
still immensely rich in gold, silver, and jewels. A balustrade running
through it, which was brought from China, is said to be very valuable, but
seems to me more curious than beautiful. It is a composition of brass and
silver. Not a soul was in the sacred precincts this morning but miserable
_léperos_, in rags and blankets, mingled with women in ragged
_rebosos_;--at least a sprinkling of ladies with mantillas was so very
slight, that I do not think there were half a dozen in all. The floor is so
dirty that one kneels with a feeling of horror, and an inward determination
to effect as speedy a change of garments afterwards as possible. Besides,
many of my Indian neighbours were engaged in an occupation which I must
leave to your imagination; in fact, relieving their heads from the pressure
of the colonial system, or rather, eradicating and slaughtering the
colonists, who swarm there like the emigrant Irish in the United States. I
was not sorry to find myself once more in the pure air after mass; and have
since been told that, except on peculiar ocasions, and at certain hours,
few ladies perform their devotions in the cathedral. I shall learn all
these particulars in time.
We saw, as we passed out, the Aztec Calendar,--a round stone covered with
hieroglyphics, which is still preserved and fastened on the outside of the
cathedral. We afterwards saw the Stone of Sacrifices, now in the courtyard
of the university, with a hollow in the middle, in which the victim was
laid, while six priests, dressed in red, their heads adorned with plumes of
green feathers (they must have looked like macaws), with gold and green
earrings, and blue stones in their upper lips, held him down while the
chief priest cut open his breast, threw his heart at the feet of the idol,
and afterwards put it into his mouth with a golden spoon. They then cut off
his head, to make use of it in building the tower of skulls, eat some parts
of him, and either burnt the rest, or threw it to the wild beasts who were
maintained in the palace.
These interesting particulars occurred to us as we looked at the stone, and
we were not sorry to think that it is now more ornamental than useful.
After leaving the cathedral, C---n fastened on his orders in the carriage,
as this day was appointed for his presentation to the President, and we
drove to the place, where I left him, and returned home. He was received
with great etiquette, a band of music playing in the court, the President
in full uniform, surrounded by all his Ministers and aides-de-camp,
standing before a throne, under a velvet dais, his feet upon a tabouret,
the whole being probably the same as was used by the viceroys. _Viva la
Republica!_ C---n made a discourse to him, and he made one in return, both
of which may be found by those who are curious in these matters, in the
_Díario_ of the 31st December....
Whilst I am writing a horrible lépero, with great leering eyes, is looking
at me through the windows, and performing the most extraordinary series of
groans, displaying at the same time a hand with two long fingers, probably
the other three tied in. "Señorita! Señorita! For the love of the most Holy
Virgin! For the sake of the most pure blood of Christ! By the miraculous
Conception!--" The wretch! I dare not look up, but I feel that his eyes are
fixed upon a gold watch and seals lying on the table. That is the worst of
a house on the ground floor.... There come more of them! A paralytic woman
mounted on the back of a man with a long beard. A sturdy-looking
individual, who looks as if, were it not for the iron bars, he would resort
to more effective measures, is holding up a _deformed foot,_ which I verily
believe is merely fastened back in some extraordinary way. What groans!
what rags! what a chorus of whining! This concourse is probably owing to
our having sent them some money yesterday. I try to take no notice, and
write on as if I were deaf. I must walk out of the room, without looking
behind me, and send the porter to disperse them. There are no bell-ropes in
these parts....
I come back again to write, hardly recovered from the start that I have
just got. I had hardly written the last words, when I heard a footstep near
me, and, looking up, lo! there was my friend with _the foot,_ standing
within a yard of me, his hand stretched out for alms! I was so frightened,
that for a moment I thought of giving him my watch, to get rid of him.
However, I glided past him with a few unintelligible words, and rushed to
call the servants; sending him some money by the first person who came. The
porter, who had not seen him pass, is now dispersing the crowd. What
vociferous exclamations! A---- has come in and drawn the curtains, and I
think they are going off.
Yesterday evening I was taken to visit the President. The palace is an
immense building, containing, besides the apartments of the President and
his Ministers, all the chief courts of justice. It occupies one side of the
square, but is no way remarkable in its architecture. At the end of every
flight of steps that we mounted we came upon lounging soldiers, in their
yellow cloaks, and women in rebosos, standing about. We passed through a
hall filled with soldiers, into the antechamber, where we were received by
several aides-de-camp, who conducted us into a very well-furnished room,
where we sat a few minutes, till an officer came to lead us into the
reception-room, which is a handsome apartment, about a hundred feet long,
and fitted up with crimson and gold, also well lighted. General Bustamante,
now in plain clothes, gave us a very cordial reception.
He looks like a good man, with an honest, benevolent face, frank and simple
in his manners, and not at all like a hero. His conversation was not
brilliant, indeed I do not know apropos to what, I suppose to the climate,
but it chiefly turned on _medicine_. There cannot be a greater contrast,
both in appearance and reality, than between him and Santa Anna. There is
no lurking devil in his eye. All is frank, open, and unreserved. It is
impossible to look in his face without believing him to be an honest and
well-intentioned man. An unprincipled but clever writer has said of him,
that he has no great capacity or superior genius; but that, whether from
reflection or from slowness of comprehension, he is always extremely calm
in his determinations: that, before entering into any project, he inquires
and considers deeply as to whether it be just or not; but that once
convinced that it is or appears to be so, he sustains his ground with
firmness and constancy. He adds, that it suits him better to obey than to
command; for which reason he was always so devoted a servant of the
Spaniards and of Yturbide.
He is said to be a devoted friend, is honest to a proverb, and personally
brave, though occasionally deficient in moral energy. He is therefore an
estimable man, and one who will do his duty to the best of his ability,
though whether he has severity and energy sufficient for those evil days in
which it is his lot to govern, may be problematical.
Having made a sufficiently long visit to his Excellency, we went to return
that of the Countess C----, who has a magnificent house, with suites of
large rooms, of which the drawing-room is particularly handsome, of immense
size, the walls beautifully painted, the subjects religious, and where I
found one of Broadwood's finest grand pianos. But although there are
cabinets inlaid with gold, fine paintings, and hundreds of rich and curious
things, our European eyes are struck with numerous inconsistencies in
dress, servants, etc., in all of which there is a want of keeping very
remarkable. Yet this house, and the one adjoining, which also belongs to
the family, are palaces in vastness, and the Countess receives me more as
if I were her daughter, than a person with whom she has been acquainted but
a few days.
There are an extraordinary number of street-cries in Mexico, which begin at
dawn and continue till night, performed by hundreds of discordant voices,
impossible to understand at first; but Señor ----- has been giving me an
explanation of them, until I begin to have some distinct idea of their
meaning. At dawn you are awakened by the shrill and desponding cry of the
Carbonero, the coalmen, "Carbón, Señor?" which, as he pronounces it, sounds
like "Carbosiu?" Then the grease-man takes up the song, "Mantequilla! lard!
lard! at one real and a half." "Salt beef! good salt beef!" ("Cecina
buena!") interrupts the butcher in a hoarse voice. "Hay cebo-o-o-o-o-o?"
This is the prolonged and melancholy note of the woman who buys kitchen-
stuff, and stops before the door. Then passes by the _cambista,_ a sort of
Indian she-trader or exchanger, who sings out, "Tejocotes por venas de
chile?" a small fruit which she proposes exchanging for hot peppers. No
harm in that.
A kind of ambulating pedler drowns the shrill treble of the Indian cry. He
calls aloud upon the public to buy needles, pins, thimbles, shirt-buttons,
tape, cotton-balls, small mirrors, etc. He enters the house, and is quickly
surrounded by the women, young and old, offering him the tenth part of what
he asks, and which, after much haggling, he accepts. Behind him stands the
Indian with his tempting baskets of fruit, of which he calls out all the
names, till the cook or housekeeper can resist no longer, and putting her
head over the balustrade, calls him up with his bananas, and oranges, and
granaditas, etc.
A sharp note of interrogation is heard, indicating something that is hot,
and must be snapped up quickly before it cools. "Gorditas de horna
caliente?" "Little fat cakes from the oven, hot?" This is in a female key,
sharp and shrill. Follows the mat-seller. "Who wants mats from Puebla? mats
of five yards?" These are the most matinal cries.
At midday the beggars begin to be particularly importunate, and their
cries, and prayers, and long recitations, form a running accompaniment to
the other noises. Then above all rises the cry of "Honey-cakes!" "Cheese
and honey?" "Requesón and good honey?" (_Requesón_ being a sort of hard
curd, sold in cheeses.) Then come the dulce-men, the sellers of sweetmeats,
of meringues, which are very good, and of all sorts of candy. "Caramelos de
esperma! bocadillo de coco!" Then the lottery-men, the messengers of
Fortune, with their shouts of "The last ticket yet unsold, for half a
real!" a tempting announcement to the lazy beggar, who finds it easier to
gamble than to work, and who may have that sum hid about his rags.
Towards evening rises the cry of "Tortillas de cuajada?" "Curd-cakes?" or,
"Do you take nuts?" succeeded by the night-cry of "Chestnuts hot and
roasted!" and by the affectionate vendors of ducks; "Ducks, oh my soul, hot
ducks!" "Maize-cakes," etc., etc. As the night wears away, the voices die
off, to resume next morning in fresh vigour.
Tortillas, which are the common food of the people, and which are merely
maize cakes mixed with a little lime, and of the form and size of what we
call _scones_, I find rather good when very hot and fresh-baked, but
insipid by themselves. They have been in use all through this country since
the earliest ages of its history, without any change in the manner of
baking them, excepting that, for the noble Mexicans in former days, they
used to be kneaded with various medicinal plants, supposed to render them
more wholesome. They are considered particularly palatable with _chile_, to
endure which, in the quantities in which it is eaten here, it seems to me
necessary to have a throat lined with tin.
In unpacking some books to-day, I happened to take up "_Sartor Resartus_,"
which, by a curious coincidence, opened of itself, to my great delight, at
the following passage:
"The simplest costume," observes our Professor, "which I anywhere find
alluded to in history, is that used as regimental by Bolivar's cavalry, in
the late Columbian wars. A square blanket, twelve feet in diagonal, is
provided, (some were wont to cut off the corners, and make it circular;) in
the centre a slit is effected, eighteen inches long; through this the
mother-naked trooper introduces his head and neck; and so rides, shielded
from all weather, and in battle from many strokes (for he rolls it about
his left arm); and not only dressed, but harnessed and draperied." Here
then we find the true "Old Roman contempt of the superfluous," which seems
rather to meet the approbation of the illustrious Professor Teufelsdroch.
LETTER THE EIGHTH
Ball in Preparation--Agreeable Family--Fine
Voices--Theatre--Smoking--Castle of Chapultepec--Viceroy
Galvez--Montezuma's Cypress--Vice-Queen--Valley of Mexico--New Year's
Day--Opening of Congress--Visits from the Diplomatic Corps--Poblana
Dress--"Function extraordinaria"--Theatre--Visit to the Cathedral of
Guadalupe--Divine Painting--Bishop-Beggars--Mosquitoes' Eggs.
A great ball is to be given on the 8th of January, in the theatre, for the
benefit of the poor, which is to be under the patronage of the most
distinguished ladies of Mexico. After much deliberation amongst the
patronesses, it is decided that it shall be a _bal costumé_, and I have
some thoughts of going in the Poblana dress, which I before described to
you. As I am told that the Señora G---a wore it at a ball in London, when
her husband was Minister there, I have sent my maid to learn the
particulars from her.
We called to-day on a family nearly related to the C---as, and who have
been already excessively kind to us; Señor A---d, who is married to a
daughter of Don Francisco Tagle, a very distinguished Mexican. We found a
very large, very handsome house, the walls and roof painted in the old
Spanish style, which, when well executed, has an admirable effect. The lady
of the house, who is only nineteen, I took a fancy to at first sight. She
is not regularly beautiful, but has lovely dark eyes and eyebrows, with
fair complexion and fair hair, and an expression of the most perfect
goodness, with very amiable manners. I was surprised by hearing her sing
several very difficult Italian songs with great expression and wonderful
facility. She has a fine contralto, which has been cultivated; but some
Spanish ballads, and little songs of the country, she sang so delightfully,
and with so much good-nature and readiness, that had it not been a first
visit, I should have begged her to continue during half the morning. Fine
voices are said to be extremely common, as is natural in a country peopled
from Spain; and the opera, while it lasted, contributed greatly to the
cultivation of musical taste.
In the evening we went to the theatre. Such a theatre! Dark, dirty,
redolent of bad odours; the passages leading to the boxes so ill-lighted,
that one is afraid in the dark to pick one's steps through them. The acting
was nearly of a piece. The first actress, who is a favourite, and who
dresses well, and bears a high reputation for good conduct, is perfectly
wooden, and never frightened out of her proprieties in the most tragical
scenes. I am sure there is not a fold deranged in her dress when she goes
home. Besides, she has a most remarkable trick of pursing up her mouth in a
smile, and frowning at the same time with tears in her eyes, as if
personifying an April day, I should like to hear her sing
"Said a smile to a tear."
There was no applause, and half the boxes were empty, whilst those who were
there seemed merely to occupy them from the effect of habit, and because
this is the only evening amusement. The prompter spoke so loud, that as
"Coming events cast their shadows before."
every word was made known to the audience in confidence, before it came out
upon the stage officially. The whole pit smoked, the galleries smoked, the
boxes smoked, the prompter smoked, a long stream of smoke curling from his
box, giving something oracular and Delphic to his prophecies.
"The force of _smoking_ could no further go."
The theatre is certainly unworthy of this fine city.
3ist.--We have spent the day in visiting the castle of Chapultepec, a short
league from Mexico, the most haunted by recollections of all the
traditionary sites of which Mexico can boast. Could these hoary cypresses
speak, what tales might they not disclose, standing there with their long
gray beards, and outstretched venerable arms, century after century:
al ready old when Montezuma was a boy, and still vigorous in the days of
Bustamante! There has the last of the Aztec emperors wandered with his
dark-eyed harem. Under the shade of these gigantic trees he has rested,
perhaps smoked his "tobacco mingled with amber," and fallen to sleep, his
dreams unhaunted by visions of the stern traveller from the far-east, whose
sails even then might be within sight of the shore. In these tanks he has
bathed. Here were his gardens, and his aviaries, and his fish-ponds.
Through these now tangled and deserted woods, he may have been carried by
his young nobles in his open litter, under a splendid dais, stepping out
upon the rich stuffs which his slaves spread before him on the green and
velvet turf.
And from the very rock where the castle stands, he may have looked out upon
his fertile valley and great capital, with its canoe-covered lakes and
outspreading villages and temples, and gardens of flowers, no care for the
future darkening the bright vision!
Tradition says, that now these caves and tanks and woods are haunted by the
shade of the conqueror's Indian love, the far-famed Doña Marina, but I
think she would be afraid of meeting with the wrathful spirit of the Indian
emperor. The castle itself, modern though it be, seems like a tradition!
The Viceroy Galvez, who built it, is of a bygone race! The apartments are
lonely and abandoned, the walls falling to ruin, the glass of the windows
and the carved work of the doors have been sold; and standing at this great
height, exposed to every wind that blows, it is rapidly falling to decay.
We were accompanied by Count C---a, and received by a Mexican governor, who
rarely resides there, and who very civilly conducted us everywhere. But
Chapultepec is not a _show-place_. One must go there early in the morning,
when the dew is on the grass, or in the evening, when the last rays of the
sun are gilding with rosy light the snowy summits of the volcanoes; and
dismount from your horse, or step out of your carriage and wander forth
without guide or object, or fixed time for return.
We set off early, passing over a fine paved road, divided by a great and
solid aqueduct of nine hundred arches, one of the two great aqueducts by
which fresh water is conveyed to the city, and of which the two sources are
in the hill of Chapultepec, and in that of Santa Fe, at a much greater
distance. When we arrived, the sleepy soldiers, who were lounging before
the gates, threw them open to let the carriage enter, and we drew up in
front of the great cypress, known by the name of "Montezuma's Cypress," a
most stupendous tree--dark, solemn, and stately, its branches unmoved as
the light wind played amongst them, of most majestic height, and forty-one
feet in circumference. A second cypress standing near, and of almost equal
size, is even more graceful, and they, and all the noble trees which adorn
these speaking solitudes, are covered with a creeping plant, resembling
gray moss, hanging over every branch like long gray hair, giving them a
most venerable and druidical look.
We wandered through the noble avenues, and rested under the trees, and
walked through the tangled shrubberies, bright with flowers and coloured
berries, and groped our way into the cave, and stood by the large clear
tank, and spent some time in the old garden; and then got again into the
carriage, that we might be dragged up the precipitous ascent on which
stands the castle, the construction of which aroused the jealousy of the
government against the young count, whose taste for the picturesque had
induced him to choose this elevated site for his summer palace.
The interior was never finished; yet, even as it stands, it cost the
Spanish government three hundred thousand dollars. When we look at its
strong military capabilities and commanding position, fortified with
salient walls and parapets towards Mexico, and containing on its northern
side great moats and subterraneous vaults, capable of holding a vast supply
of provisions, the jealousy of the government, and their suspicions that it
was a fortress masked as a summer retreat, are accountable enough.
The Vice-Queen Galvez, was celebrated for her beauty and goodness, and was
universally adored in Mexico. A sister of hers, who still survives, and who
paid me a visit the other day, says that her beauty chiefly consisted in
the exceeding fairness of her complexion, very few _blondes_ having then
been seen in this part of the world.
From the terrace that runs round the castle, the view forms the most
magnificent panorama that can be imagined. The whole valley of Mexico lies
stretched out as in a map; the city itself, with its innumerable churches
and convents; the two great aqueducts which cross the plain; the avenues of
elms and poplars which lead to the city; the villages, lakes, and plains,
which surround it. To the north, the magnificent cathedral of Our Lady of
Guadalupe--to the south, the villages of San Augustin, San Angel, and
Tacubaya, which seem imbosomed in trees, and look like an immense garden.
And if in the plains below there are many uncultivated fields, and many
buildings falling to ruin, yet with its glorious enclosure of mountains,
above which tower the two mighty volcanoes, Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl,
the Gog and Magog of the valley, off whose giant sides great volumes of
misty clouds were rolling, and with its turquoise sky for ever smiling on
the scene, the whole landscape, as viewed from this height, is one of
nearly unparalleled beauty.
1st January, 1840.--New Year's Day! The birth of the young year is ushered
in by no remarkable signs of festivity. More ringing of bells, more
chanting of mass, gayer dresses amongst the peasants in the streets, and
more carriages passing along, and the ladies within rather more dressed
than apparently they usually are, when they do not intend to pay visits. In
passing through the Plaza this morning, our carriage suddenly drew up, and
the servants took off their hats. At the same moment, the whole population,
men, women, and children, vendors and buyers, peasant and Señora, priest
and layman, dropped on their knees, a picturesque sight. Presently a coach
came slowly along through the crowd, with the mysterious _Eye_ painted on
the panels, drawn by piebald horses, and with priests within, bearing the
divine symbols. On the balconies, in the shops, in the houses, and on the
streets, every one knelt while it passed, the little bell giving warning of
its approach.
We were then at the door of the palace, where we went this morning to see
the opening of Congress, the two houses being included in this building.
The House of Representatives, though not large, is handsome, and in good
taste. Opposite to the presidential chair is a full-length representation
of Our Lady of Guadalupe. All round the hall, which is semicircular, are
inscribed the names of the heroes of independence, and that of the Emperor
Augustin Yturbide is placed on the right of the presidential chair, with
his sword hanging on the wall; while on the left of the chief magistrate's
seat there is a vacant space; perhaps destined for the name of another
emperor. The multitude of priests with their large shovel-hats, and the
entrance of the president in full uniform, announced by music and a
flourish of trumpets, and attended by his staff, rendered it as
anti-republican-looking an assembly as one could wish to see. The utmost
decorum and tranquillity prevailed. The president made a speech in a low
and rather monotonous tone, which in the diplomate's seat, where we were,
was scarcely audible. No ladies were in the house, myself excepted; which I
am glad I was not aware of before going, or I should perhaps have stayed
away.
Yesterday I received visits from the gentlemen of the diplomatic corps, who
are not in great numbers here. England, Belgium, Prussia, and the United
States, are the only countries at present represented, Spain excepted. The
French Minister has not arrived yet, but is expected in a few days. I was
not sorry to hear English spoken once more, and to meet with so gentlemanly
a person as the Minister who for the last fourteen years has represented
our island in the Republic. His visit and a large packet of letters just
received from Paris and from the United States, have made me feel as if the
distance from home were diminished by one-half.
This morning a very handsome dress was forwarded to me with the compliments
of a lady whom I do not know, the wife of General---; with a request that,
if I should go to the fancy ball as a Poblana peasant, I may wear this
costume. It is a Poblana dress, and very superb, consisting of a petticoat
of maroon-coloured merino, with gold fringe, gold bands and spangles; an
under-petticoat, embroidered and trimmed with rich lace, to come below it.
The first petticoat is trimmed with gold up the sides, which are slit open,
and tied up with coloured ribbon. With this must be worn a chemise, richly
embroidered round the neck and sleeves, and trimmed with lace; a satin
vest, open in front, and embroidered in gold; a silk sash tied behind, the
ends fringed with gold, and a small silk handkerchief which crosses the
neck, with gold fringe. I had already another dress prepared, but I think
this is the handsomer of the two.
The actors have just called to inform C---n, that their "_función
extraordinaria_" in his honour, is to be given on the third, that a box is
prepared for us, and that the play is to be "Don John of Austria."[1]
[Footnote 1: Translated from the French of Casimir Delavigne.]
4th.--Having sat through five acts last evening in the theatre, we came
home very tired. The play was _awfully_ long, lasting from eight o'clock
till one in the morning. At the end of the first act, the prefect and other
dignitaries came round with much precipitation and carried off C---n to a
large box in the centre, intended for him; for, not knowing which it was,
we had gone to that of the Countess C---a. The theatre looked much more
decent than before; being lighted up, and the boxes hung with silk
draperies in honour of the occasion. The ladies also were in full dress,
and the boxes crowded, so that one could scarcely recognise the house. This
morning we drove out to see the cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe: C---n
in one carriage with Count C---a, and the Señora C---a and I in another,
driven by Señor A---d, who is a celebrated whip; the carriage open, with
handsome white horses, _frisones_, as they here call the northern horses,
whether from England or the United States, and which are much larger than
the spirited little horses of the country. As usual, we were accompanied by
four armed outriders.
We passed through miserable suburbs, ruined, dirty, and with a commingling
of odours which I could boldly challenge those of Cologne to rival. After
leaving the town, the road is not particularly pretty, but is for the most
part a broad, straight avenue, bounded on either side by trees.
At Guadalupe, on the hill of Tepayac, there stood, in days of yore, the
Temple of Tonantzin, the goddess of earth and of corn, a mild deity, who
rejected human victims, and was only to be propitiated by the sacrifices of
turtle-doves, swallows, pigeons, etc. She was the protectress of the
Totonoqui Indians. The spacious church, which now stands at the foot of the
mountain, is one of the richest in Mexico. Having put on veils, no bonnets
being permitted within the precincts of a church, we entered this far-famed
sanctuary, and were dazzled by the profusion of silver with which it is
ornamented.
The divine painting of the Virgin of Guadalupe, represents her in a blue
cloak covered with stars, a garment of crimson and gold, her hands clasped,
and her foot on a crescent, supported by a cherub. The painting is coarse,
and only remarkable on account of the tradition attached to it.
We afterwards visited a small chapel, covered by a dome, built over a
boiling spring, whose waters possess miraculous qualities, and bought
crosses and medals which have touched the holy image, and pieces of white
ribbon, marked with the measure of the Virgin's hands and feet. We climbed
(albeit very warm) by a steep path to the top of the hill, where there is
another chapel, from which there is a superb view of Mexico; and beside it,
a sort of monument in the form of the sails of a ship, erected by a
grateful Spaniard, to commemorate his escape from shipwreck, which he
believed to be owing to the intercession of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We then
went to the village to call on the bishop, the Ylustrisimo Señor Campos,
whom we found in his canonicals, and who seems a good little old man, but
no conjurer; although I believe he had the honour of bringing up his
cousin, Señor Posada, destined to be Archbishop of Mexico. We found him
quietly seated in a large, simply-furnished room, and apparently buried
over some huge volume, so that he was not at first aware of our entrance.
A picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe hung on the wall, which C---n having
noticed, he observed that he could not answer for its being a very faithful
resemblance, as Our Lady did not appear often, not so often as people
supposed. Then folding his hands, and looking down, he proceeded to recount
the history of the miraculous apparition, pretty much as follows:
In 1531, ten years and four months after the conquest of Mexico, the
fortunate Indian whose name was Juan Diego, and who was a native of
Cuatitlan, went to the suburb of Tlaltelolco to learn the Christian
doctrine which the Franciscan monks taught there. As he was passing by the
mountain of Tepeyac, the Holy Virgin suddenly appeared before him and
ordered him to go, in her name, to the bishop, the Ylustrisimo D. Fr. Juan
de Zumarraga, and to make known to him that she desired to have a place of
worship erected in her honour, on that spot. The next day the Indian passed
by the same place, when again the Holy Virgin appeared before him, and
demanded the result of his commission. Juan Diego replied, that in spite of
his endeavours, he had not been able to obtain an audience of the bishop.
"Return," said the Virgin, "and say that it is I, the Virgin Mary, the
Mother of God, who sends thee." Juan Diego obeyed the divine orders, yet
still the bishop would not give him credence, merely desiring him to bring
some sign or token of the Virgin's will. He returned with this message on
the twelfth of December, when, for the third time, he beheld the apparition
of the Virgin. She now commanded him to climb to the top of the barren rock
of Tepeyac, to gather the roses which he should find there, and to bring
them to her. The humble messenger obeyed, though well knowing that on that
spot were neither flowers nor any trace of vegetation. Nevertheless, he
found the roses, which he gathered and brought to the Virgin Mary, who,
throwing them into his _tilma_ said, "Return, show these to the bishop, and
tell him that these are the credentials of thy mission." Juan Diego set out
for the episcopal house, which stood on the ground occupied by the
hospital, now called San Juan de Dios, and when he found himself in the
presence of the prelate, he unfolded his _tilma_ to show him the roses,
when there appeared imprinted on it the miraculous image which had existed
for more than three centuries.
When the bishop beheld it, he was seized with astonishment and awe, and
conveyed it in a solemn procession to his own oratory, and shortly after,
this splendid church was erected in honour of the patroness of New Spain.
"From all parts of the country," continued the old bishop, "people flocked
in crowds to see Our Lady of Guadalupe, and esteemed it an honour to obtain
a sight of her. What then must be _my_ happiness, who can see her most
gracious majesty every hour and every minute of the day! I would not quit
Guadalupe for any other part of the world, nor for any temptation that
could be held out to me;" and the pious man remained for a few minutes as
if wrapt in ecstasy. That he was sincere in his assertions, there could be
no doubt. As evening prayers were about to begin, we accompanied him to the
cathedral. An old woman opened the door for us as we passed out. "Have my
chocolate ready when I return," said the bishop, "Si, padrecito!" said the
old woman, dropping upon her knees, in which posture she remained for some
minutes. As we passed along the street, the sight of the reverend man had
the same effect; all fell on their knees as he passed, precisely as if the
host were carried by, or the shock of an earthquake were felt. Arrived at
the door of the cathedral, he gave us his hand, or rather his pastoral
amethyst, to kiss.
The organ sounded fine as it pealed through the old cathedral, and the
setting sun poured his rays in through the Gothic windows with a rich and
glowing light. The church was crowded with people of the village, but
especially with _léperos_, counting their beads, and suddenly in the midst
of an "Ave María Purísima," flinging themselves and their rags in our path
with a "Por el amor de la Santísima Virgen!" and if this does not serve
their purpose, they appeal to your domestic sympathies. From men they
entreat relief "By the life of the Señorita." From women, "By the life of
the little child!" From children it is "By the life of your mother!" And a
mixture of piety and superstitious feeling makes most people, women at
least, draw out their purses.
Count C---a has promised to send me to-morrow a box of mosquitoes' eggs, of
which tortillas are made, which are considered a great delicacy.
Considering Life in Mexico, mosquitoes as small winged _cannibals_, I was
rather shocked at the idea, but they pretend that these which are from the
Laguna, are a superior race of creatures, which do not sting. In fact the
Spanish historians mention that the Indians used to eat bread made of the
eggs which the fly called _agayacatl_ laid on the rushes of the lakes, and
which they (the Spaniards) found very palatable.
LETTER THE NINTH
Visits from Spaniards--Visit from the President--Disquisition--Poblana
Dress--Bernardo the Matador--Bull-fight extraordinary--Plaza de
Toros--Fireworks--Portrait of C---n--Fancy Ball--Dress--Costume of the
Patronesses--Beauty in Mexico--Doctor's Visit--Cards of _faire
part_--Marquesa de San Roman--Toilet in Morning Visits of
Ceremony--Attempt at Robbery--Murder of a Consul--La Guera
Rodriguez--Dr. Plan--M. de Humboldt--Anecdote--Former Customs.
5th January.
Yesterday (Sunday), a great day here for visiting after mass is over. We
had a concourse of Spaniards, all of whom seemed anxious to know whether or
not I intended to wear a Poblana dress at the fancy ball, and seemed
wonderfully interested about it. Two young ladies or women of Puebla,
introduced by Señor ----- came to proffer their services in giving me all
the necessary particulars, and dressed the hair of Joséfa, a little Mexican
girl, to show me how it should be arranged; mentioned several things still
wanting, and told me that every one was much pleased at the idea of my
going in a Poblana dress. I was rather surprised that _every one_ should
trouble themselves about it. About twelve o'clock the president, in full
uniform, attended by his aides-de-camp, paid me a visit, and sat about half
an hour, very amiable as usual. Shortly after came more visits, and just as
we had supposed they were all concluded, and we were going to dinner, we
were told that the secretary of state, the Ministers of war and of the
interior, and others, were in the drawing-room. And what do you think was
the purport of their visit? To adjure me by all that was most alarming, to
discard the idea of making my appearance in a Poblana dress! They assured
us that Poblanas generally were _femmes de rien_, that they wore no
stockings, and that the wife of the Spanish Minister should by no means
assume, even for one evening, such a costume. I brought in my dresses,
showed their length and their propriety, but in vain; and, in fact, as to
their being in the right, there could be no doubt, and nothing but a kind
motive could have induced them to take this trouble; so I yielded with a
good grace, and thanked the cabinet council for their timely warning,
though fearing, that in this land of procrastination, it would be difficult
to procure another dress for the fancy ball; for you must know, that our
luggage is still toiling its weary way, on the backs of mules, from Vera
Cruz to the capital. They had scarcely gone, when Señor ----- brought a
message from several of the principal ladies here, whom we do not even
know, and who had requested, that as a stranger, I should be informed of
the reasons which rendered the Poblana dress objectionable in this country,
especially on any public occasion like this ball. I was really thankful for
my escape.
Just as I was dressing for dinner, a note was brought, marked _reservada_
(private), the contents of which appeared to me more odd than pleasant. I
have since heard, however, that the writer, Don José Arnaiz, is an old man,
and a sort of privileged character, who interferes in everything, whether
it concerns him or not. I translate it for your benefit.
"The dress of a Poblana is that of a woman of no character. The lady of the
Spanish Minister is a _lady_ in every sense of the word. However much she
may have compromised herself, she ought neither to go as a Poblana, nor in
any other character but her own. So says to the Señor de C---n, José
Arnaiz, who esteems him as much as possible."
6th.--Early this morning, this being the day of the "bull-fight
extraordinary," placards were put up, as I understand, on all the corners
of the streets, announcing it, accompanied by a portrait of C---n! Count
C---a came soon after breakfast, accompanied by Bernardo, the first
matador, whom he brought to present to us. I send you the white satin note
of invitation, with its silver lace and tassels, to show you how
beautifully they can get up such things here. The matador is a handsome but
heavy-looking man, though said to be active and skilful. Tomorrow I shall
write you an account of my _first bull-fight_.
7th.--Yesterday, towards the afternoon, there were great fears of rain,
which would have caused a postponement of the combat; however, the day
cleared up, the bulls little knowing how much their fate depended upon the
clouds. A box in the centre, with a carpet and a silver lamp, had been
prepared for us; but we went with our friends, the C---as, into their box
adjoining. The scene, to me especially, who have not seen the magnificence
of the Madrid arena, was animating and brilliant in the highest degree.
Fancy an immense amphitheatre, with four great tiers of boxes, and a range
of uncovered seats in front, the whole crowded almost to suffocation; the
boxes filled with ladies in full dress, and the seats below by
gaily-dressed and most enthusiastic spectators; two military bands of
music, playing beautiful airs from the operas; an extraordinary variety of
brilliant costumes, all lighted up by the eternally deep-blue sky; ladies
and peasants, and officers in full uniform,--and you may conceive that it
must have been altogether a varied and curious spectacle.
About half-past six, a flourish of trumpets announced the president, who
came in uniform with his staff, and took his seat to the music of "Guerra!
Guerra! I bellici trombi." Shortly after the matadors and picadors, the
former on foot, the latter on horseback, made their entry, saluting all
around the arena, and were received with loud cheering.
Bernardo's dress of blue and silver was very superb, and cost him five
hundred dollars. The signal was given--the gates were thrown open, and a
bull sprang into the arena; not a great, fierce-looking animal, as they are
in Spain, but a small, angry, wild-looking beast, with a troubled eye.
"Thrice sounds the clarion; lo! the signal falls,
The den expands, and expectation mute
Gapes round the silent circle's peopled walls.
Bounds with one lashing spring the mighty brute,
And, wildly staring, spurns with sounding foot
The sand, nor blindly rushes on his foe;
Here, there, he points his threatening front, to suit
His first attack, wide waving to and fro
His angry tail; red rolls his eye's dilated glow."
A picture equally correct and poetical. That first _pose_ of the bull is
superb! Pasta, in her Medea, did not surpass it. Meanwhile the matadors and
the _banderilleros_ shook their coloured scarfs at him--the picadors poked
at him with their lances. He rushed at the first, and tossed up the scarfs
which they threw at him, while they sprung over the arena; galloped after
the others, striking the horses, so that along with their riders they
occasionally rolled in the dust; both, however, almost instantly recovering
their equilibrium, in which there is no time to be lost. Then the matadors
would throw fireworks, crackers adorned with streaming ribbons, which stuck
on his horns, as he tossed his head, enveloped him in a blaze of fire.
Occasionally the picador would catch hold of the bull's tail, and passing
it under his own right leg, wheel his horse round, force the bullock to
gallop backwards, and throw him on his face.
Maddened with pain, streaming with blood, stuck full of darts, and covered
with fireworks, the unfortunate beast went galloping round and round,
plunging blindly at man and horse, and frequently trying to leap the
barrier, but driven back by the waving hats and shouting of the crowd. At
last, as he stood at bay, and nearly exhausted, the matador ran up and gave
him the mortal blow, considered a peculiar proof of skill. The bull
stopped, as if he felt that his hour were come, staggered, made a few
plunges at nothing, and fell. A finishing stroke, and the bull expired.
The trumpets sounded, the music played. Four horses galloped in tied to a
yoke, to which the bull was fastened, and swiftly dragged out of the arena.
This last part had a fine effect, reminding one of the Roman sacrifice. In
a similar manner, eight bulls were done to death. The scene is altogether
fine, the address amusing, but the wounding and tormenting of the bull is
sickening, and as here the tips of his horns are blunted, one has more
sympathy with him than with his human adversaries. It cannot be good to
accustom a people to such bloody sights.
Yet let me confess, that though at first I covered my face and could not
look, little by little I grew so much interested in the scene, that I could
not take my eyes off it, and I can easily understand the pleasure taken in
these barbarous diversions by those accustomed to them from childhood.
The bull-fight having terminated amidst loud and prolonged cheering from
the crowd, a tree of fireworks, erected in the midst of the arena, was
lighted, and amidst a blaze of coloured light, appeared, first the Arms of
the Republic, the Eagle and Nopal; and above, a full-length portrait of
C---n! represented by a figure in a blue and silver uniform. Down fell the
Mexican eagle with a crash at his feet, while he remained burning brightly,
and lighted up by fireworks, in the midst of tremendous shouts and cheers.
Thus terminated this "_función extraordinaria_;" and when all was over, we
went to dine at Countess C---a's; had some music in the evening, and
afterwards returned home tolerably tired.
10th.--The fancy ball took place last evening in the theatre, and although,
owing either to the change of climate, or to the dampness of the house, I
have been obliged to keep my room since the day of the bull-fight, and to
decline a pleasant dinner at the English Minister's, I thought it advisable
to make my appearance there. Having discarded the costume of the light-
headed Poblamanas, I adopted that of a virtuous Roman Contadina, simple
enough to be run up in one day; a white skirt, red bodice, with blue
ribbons, and lace veil put on square behind; _à propos_ to which
head-dress, it is very common amongst the Indians to wear a piece of stuff
folded square, and laid flat upon the head, in this Italian fashion; and as
it is not fastened, I cannot imagine how they trot along, without letting
it fall.
We went to the theatre about eleven, and found the _entrée_, though crowded
with carriages, very quiet and orderly. The _coup d'oeil_ on entering was
extremely gay, and certainly very amusing. The ball, given for the benefit
of the poor, was under the patronage of the ladies C---a, G---a, Guer---a,
and others, but such was the original dirtiness and bad condition of the
theatre, that to make it decent, they had expended nearly all the proceeds.
As it was, and considering the various drawbacks, the arrangements were
very good. Handsome lustres had superseded the lanterns with their tallow
candles, the boxes were hung with bright silk draperies, and a canopy of
the same drawn up in the form of a tent, covered the whole ball-room. The
orchestra also was tolerably good. The boxes were filled with ladies,
presenting an endless succession of China crape shawls of every colour and
variety, and a monotony of diamond earrings; while in the theatre itself,
if ever a ball might be termed a fancy-ball, this was that ball. Of Swiss
peasants, Scotch peasants, and all manner of peasants, there were a goodly
assortment; as also of Turks, Highlanders, and men in plain clothes. But
being public, it was not, of course, select, and amongst many well-dressed
people, there were hundreds who, assuming no particular character, had
exerted their imagination to appear merely fanciful, and had succeeded.
One, for example, would have a scarlet satin petticoat, and over it a pink
satin robe, with scarlet ribbons to match. Another, a short blue satin
dress, beneath which appeared a handsome purple satin petticoat; the whole
trimmed with yellow bows. They looked like the signs of the zodiac. All had
diamonds and pearls; old and young, and middle-aged; including little
children, of whom there were many.
The lady patronesses were very elegant. The Señora de Guer---a, wore a
head-dress in the form of a net, entirely composed of large pearls and
diamonds; in itself a fortune. The Señora de C---a, as Madame de la
Valliere, in black velvet and diamonds, looking pretty as usual, but the
cold of the house obliged her to muffle up in furs and boas, and so to hide
her dress. The Señora de G---a, as Mary, Queen of Scots, in black velvet
and pearls, with a splendid diamond necklace, was extremely handsome; she
wore a cap, introduced by the Albini, in the character of the Scottish
Queen, but which, though pretty in itself, is a complete deviation from the
beautiful simplicity of the real Queen-Mary cap. She certainly looked as if
she had arrived at her prime without knowing Fotheringay.
Various ladies were introduced to me who are only waiting to receive our
cards of _faire part_ before they call. Amongst the girls, the best dresses
that I observed were the Señoritas de F---d, the one handsome, with the
figure and face of a Spanish peasant; the other much more graceful and
intelligent-looking, though with less actual beauty. However, so many of
the most fashionable people were in their boxes, that I am told this is not
a good occasion on which to judge of the beauty or style of toilet of the
Mexican women; besides which, these fancy balls being uncommon, they would
probably look better in their usual costume. Upon the whole, I saw few
striking beauties, little grace, and very little good dancing. There was
too much velvet and satin, and the dresses were too much loaded. The
diamonds, though superb, were frequently ill-set. The dresses, compared
with the actual fashion, were absurdly short, and the feet, naturally
small, were squeezed into shoes still smaller, which is destructive to
grace, whether in walking or dancing.
I saw many superb pairs of eyes, and beautiful hands and arms, perfect
models for a sculptor, the hands especially; and very few good complexions.
There was a young gentleman pointed out to me as being in the costume of a
Highlander! How I wished that Sir William Cumming, Macleod of Macleod, or
some veritable Highland chieftain could suddenly have appeared to
annihilate him, and show the people here what the dress really is! There
were various unfortunate children bundled up in long satin or velvet
dresses, covered with blond and jewels, and with artificial flowers in
their hair.
The room was excessively cold, nor was the ancient odour of the theatre
entirely obliterated; nor indeed do I think that all the perfumes of Arabia
would overpower it. Having walked about, and admired all the varieties of
fancy costumes, I, being nearly frozen, went to the Countess C---a's box on
the pit tier, and enveloped myself in a cloak. They pointed out the most
distinguished persons in the boxes, amongst others the family of the E---s,
who seem very handsome, with brilliant colours and fine teeth. We remained
until three in the morning, and declined all offers of refreshment, though,
after all, a cup of hot chocolate would not have been amiss. There was
supper somewhere, but I believe attended only by gentlemen. I had the
satisfaction in passing out to see numerous ladies on their partners' arms,
and all bedizened as they were with finery, stop under the lamps, and light
their cigars,--cool and pretty.
16th.--I have passed nearly a week in a slight fever; shivering and hot. I
was attended by a doctor of the country, who seems the most harmless
creature imaginable. Every day he felt my pulse, and gave me some little
innocent mixture. But what he especially gave me was a lesson in polite
conversation. Every day we had the following dialogue, as he rose to take
leave:
"Madam!" (this by the bedside) "I am at your service."
"Many thanks, sir."
"Madam!" (this at the foot of the bed) "know me for your most humble
servant."
"Good morning, sir."
"Madam!" (here he stopped beside a table) "I kiss your feet."
"Sir, I kiss your hand."
"Madam!" (this near the door) "my poor house, and all in it, myself though
useless, all I have, is yours."
"Many thanks, sir."
He turns round and opens the door, again turning round as he does so.
"Adieu, madam! your servant."
"Adieu, sir."
He goes out, partly reopens the door, and puts in his head--"Good morning,
madam!"
This civility so lengthened out, as if parting were such "sweet sorrow,"
between doctor and patient, seems rather misplaced. It is here considered
more polite to say Señorita than Señora, even to married women, and the
lady of the house is generally called by her servants, "La Nina," the
little girl, even though she be over eighty. This last custom is still more
common in Havana, where the old negresses, who have always lived in the
family, and are accustomed to call their young mistress by this name, never
change, whatever be her age.
I have received a packet of letters which have done me more good than the
old doctor's visits. The captain left us yesterday, and took charge of a
box of chocolate stamped with various figures, and of some curious dulces
for you. Our cards, giving the Mexicans the tardy information of our
arrival, were sent out some days ago. I copy one, that you may have a
specimen of the style, which looks for all the world like that of a shop-
advertisement, purporting that Don ----- makes wigs, dresses hair, and so
forth, while Doña ----- washes lace, and does up fine linen.
"Don A---- C---- de la B----, Enviado Extraordinario y Ministro
Plenipotenciario de H. M. C. cerca de la Republica Mexicana; y su Esposa,
Doña F---- E---- C---- de la B----; Participan a su Llegada a este Capital
y se afrecen á su disposición, en la Plazuela de Buenavista, No. 2."[1]
[Footnote 1: Don A---- C---- de la B----, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary from H. C. M.; and his Lady, Doña F---- E---- C---- de la
B----; Inform you of their arrival in this capital, and put themselves at
your disposal, in the street of Buenavista, No. 2.]
18th.--For the last few days our rooms have been filled with visitors, and
my eyes are scarcely yet accustomed to the display of diamonds, pearls,
silks, satins, blondes, and velvets, in which the ladies have paid their
first visits of etiquette. A few of the dresses I shall record for your
benefit, not as being richer than the others, but that I happen to
recollect them best.--The Marquesa de San Roman, an old lady who has
travelled a great deal in Europe, and is very distinguished for talents and
information. She has the Grand Cross of Maria Louisa of Spain, is of a
noble Venetian family, and aunt to the Duke of Canizzaro. Her dress was a
very rich black Genoa velvet, black blonde mantilla, and a very splendid
parure of diamonds. She seems in exceedingly delicate health. She and her
contemporaries are fast fading away, the last record of the days of
Viceroyalty. In their place a new race have started up, whose manners and
appearance have little of the _vieille cour_ about them; chiefly. It is
said, wives of military men, sprung from the hotbeds of the revolutions,
ignorant and full of pretensions, as _parvenus_ who have risen by chance
and not by merit must be. I continue my list after the fashion of the Court
Journal.
Countess de S---o. Under dress of rich violet satin, gown of black blonde,
mantilla of black blonde, diamond earrings, five or six large diamond
brooches fastening the mantilla, necklace of large pearls and diamond
sevigne. The Señora S----. Dress of white satin, gown of white blonde,
white blonde mantilla, pearls, diamonds, and white satin shoes. Madame
S---r. Black velvet dress, white blonde mantilla, pearls, diamonds, short
sleeves, and white satin shoes. The Señora de A---d. Fawn-coloured satin
dress, black blonde mantilla, diamonds, and black satin shoes.
The Señora B---a, the wife of a General, extremely rich, and who has the
handsomest house in Mexico. Dress of purple velvet, embroidered all over
with flowers of white silk, short sleeves, and embroidered corsage; white
satin shoes and has _bas à jour_; a deep flounce of Mechlin appearing below
the velvet dress, which was short. A mantilla of black blonde, fastened by
three diamond aigrettes. Diamond earrings of extraordinary size. A diamond
necklace of immense value, and beautifully set. A necklace of pear pearls,
valued at twenty thousand dollars. A diamond sévigné. A gold chain going
three times round the neck, and touching the knees. On every finger two
diamond rings, like little watches. As no other dress was equally
magnificent, with her I conclude my description, only observing that no
Mexican lady has yet paid me her first morning visit without diamonds. They
have few opportunities for displaying their jewels, so that were it not on
the occasion of some such morning visit of etiquette, the diamonds would
lie in their cases, wasting their serene rays in darkness.
Last night an attempt was made to break into the house, but our fine little
bull-dog Hercules, a present from Señor A---d, kept his ground so well, and
barked so furiously, that the servants were awakened, even the porter, the
soundest slumberer amongst them; and the robbers escaped without doing
further mischief than inflicting a severe wound on the poor animal's paw,
which has made him for the present quite lame.
_A propos_ to which matters, a most cruel murder, of which I have just been
hearing the particulars, was committed not very long ago in this
neighbourhood, upon Mr. M----, the Swiss consul. He was also a
leather-merchant, and one morning having sent out his porter on some
commission, a carriage drove up to the door, and three gentlemen presented
themselves to Mr. M----, requesting to speak to him on business. He begged
them to walk in, and there entered a general in uniform, a young officer,
and a monk. Mr. M---- requested to be informed of their business, when
suddenly the general, seizing hold of him, whilst the others went to secure
the door, exclaimed, "We have not come to hear about your goods, we want
your money." The poor man, astounded at perceiving the nature of his
customers, assured them he kept but little money in the house, but
proceeded instantly to open his private drawers, and empty their contents,
amounting, in fact, to a trifle of some few hundred dollars. Finding that
he had indeed no more to give them they prepared to depart, when the _monk_
said, "We must kill him, or he will recognise us." "No," said the officers,
"leave him and come along. There is no danger." "Go on," said the monk, "I
follow;" and, turning back, stabbed the consul to the heart. The three then
re-entered the carriage, and drove off at full speed. A few minutes
afterwards the porter returning found his master bathed in blood, and
rushing out to a neighbouring gambling-house, gave the alarm. Several
gentlemen ran to his assistance, but he died in an hour after, having given
all the particulars of the dress and appearance of his murderers, and that
of their carriage. By these tokens they were soon afterwards discovered,
and by the energy of the Governor, then Count C---a, they were arrested and
hanged upon the trees in front of our house, together with the _real_
Mexican colonel, who had kindly lent the ruffians his carriage for the
occasion. It is seldom that crime here meets with so prompt a punishment.
Our friend, Count C---a, when Governor of Mexico, was celebrated for his
energy in "_el persiguimiento de los ladrones_," (persecuting the robbers,)
as it is called. It is said upon one occasion his zeal carried him rather
far. Various robberies having been committed in the city, he had received a
hint from the government, that the escape of the perpetrators was
considered by them as a proof that he had grown lukewarm in the public
service. A few days afterwards, riding in the streets, he perceived a
notorious robber, who, the moment he observed himself recognised, darted
down another street with the swiftness of an arrow. The governor pursued
him on horseback; the robber made all speed towards the Square, and rushed
into the sanctuary of the cathedral. The count galloped in after him, and
dragged him from his place of refuge near the altar. This violation of the
church's sanctity was, of course, severely reprimanded, but, as the
governor remarked, they could no longer accuse him of want of zeal in the
discharge of his duty.
He took as his porter the captain of a gang of robbers, ordering him to
stand at the door, and to seize any of his former acquaintances who might
pass, his own pardon depending on his conduct in this respect. Riding out
one day to his country place with his lady, this man accompanying them as a
servant, they were overtaken by a messenger, who desired the return of the
count to the city, upon some urgent and important business. It was already
dusk, yet the count, trusting to the honour of the robber, ordered him to
conduct his lady to the hacienda; and she alone, on horseback, with this
alarming guide, performed her journey in safety.
Before I conclude this letter, I must tell you that I received a visit this
morning from a very remarkable character, well known here by the name of
_La Guera_ (the fair) _Rodriguez_, said to have been many years ago
celebrated by Humboldt as the most beautiful woman he had seen in the whole
course of his travels. Considering the lapse of time which has passed since
that distinguished traveller visited these parts, I was almost astonished
when her card was sent up with a request for admission, and still more so
to find that in spite of years and of the furrows which it pleases Time to
plough in the loveliest faces, La Guera retains a profusion of fair curls
without one gray hair, a set of beautiful white teeth, very fine eyes, and
great vivacity.
Her sister, the Marquesa de Juluapa, lately dead, is said to have been also
a woman of great talent and extraordinary conversational powers; she is
another of the ancient noblesse who has dropped off. The physician who
attended her in her last illness, a Frenchman of the name of Plan, in great
repute here, has sent in a bill to her executors of ten thousand dollars,
which, although it does not excite any great astonishment, the family
refuse to pay, and there is a lawsuit in consequence. The extortions of
medical men in Mexico, especially of foreign physicians, have arrived at
such a height, that a person of moderate fortune must hesitate before
putting himself into their hands.[1] A rich old lady in delicate health,
and with no particular complaint, is a surer fund for them than a silver-
mine.
[Footnote 1: The Mexican Government has since taken this matter into
consideration, and is making regulations which render it necessary for a
medical man to possess a certain degree of knowledge, and to have resided a
specified time in the city, before he is permitted to practise; they are
also occupied in fixing a certain sum for medical attendance.]
I found La Guera very agreeable, and a perfect living chronicle. She is
married to her third husband, and had three daughters, all celebrated
beauties; the Countess de Regla, who died in New York, and was buried in
the cathedral there; the Marquesa de Guadalupe, also dead, and the Marquesa
de A---a, now a handsome widow. We spoke of Humboldt, and talking of
herself as of a third person, she related to me all the particulars of his
first visit, and his admiration of her; that she was then very young,
though married, and the mother of two children, and that when he came to
visit her mother, she was sitting sewing in a corner where the baron did
not perceive her; until talking very earnestly on the subject of cochineal,
he inquired if he could visit a certain district where there was a
plantation of nopals. "To be sure," said La Guera from her corner; "we can
take M. de Humboldt there;" whereupon he first perceiving her, stood
amazed, and at length exclaimed, _"Valgame Dios! who is that girl?"_
Afterwards he was constantly with her, and more captivated, it is said, by
her wit than by her beauty, considering her a sort of western Madame de
Stael; all which leads me to suspect that the grave traveller was
considerably under the influence of her fascinations, and that neither
mines nor mountains, geography nor geology, petrified shells nor
_alpenkalkstein_, had occupied him to the exclusion of a slight _stratum_
of flirtation. It is a comfort to think that "sometimes even the great
Humboldt nods."
One of La Guera's stories is too original to be lost. A lady of high rank
having died in Mexico, her relatives undertook to commit her to her last
resting-place, habited according to the then prevailing fashion, in her
most magnificent dress, that which she had worn at her wedding. This dress
was a wonder of luxury, even in Mexico. It was entirely composed of the
finest lace, and the flounces were made of a species of point which cost
fifty dollars a _vara_ (the Mexican yard). Its equal was unknown. It was
also ornamented and looped up at certain intervals with bows of ribbon very
richly embroidered in gold. In this dress, the Condesa de ----- was laid in
her coffin, thousands of dear friends crowding to view her beautiful
_costume de mort_, and at length she was placed in her tomb, the key of
which was intrusted to the sacristan.
From the tomb to the opera is a very abrupt transition; nevertheless, both
have a share in this story. A company of French dancers appeared in Mexico,
a twentieth-rate ballet, and the chief danseuse was a little French damsel,
remarkable for the shortness of her robes, her coquetry, and her
astonishing pirouettes. On the night of a favourite ballet, Mademoiselle
Pauline made her _entrée_ in a succession of pirouettes, and poising on her
toe, looked round for approbation, when a sudden thrill of horror,
accompanied by a murmur of indignation, pervaded the assembly. Mademoiselle
Pauline was equipped in the very dress in which the defunct countess had
been buried!
Lace, point flounces, gold ribbons; impossible to mistake it. Hardly had
the curtain dropped, when the little danseuse found herself surrounded by
competent authorities, questioning her as to where and how she had obtained
her dress. She replied that she had bought it at an extravagant price from
a French _modiste_ in the city. She had rifled no tomb, but honestly paid
down golden ounces, in exchange for her lawful property. To the modiste's
went the officers of justice. She also pleaded innocent. She had bought it
of a man who had brought it to her for sale, and had paid him much more
than _à poids d'or_, as indeed it was worth. By dint of further
investigation, the man was identified, and proved to be the sacristan of
San -----. Short-sighted sacristan! He was arrested and thrown into prison,
and one benefit resulted from his cupidity, since in order to avoid
throwing temptation in the way of future sacristans, it became the custom,
after the body had lain in state for some time in magnificent robes, to
substitute a plain dress previous to placing the coffin in the vault. A
poor vanity after all.
I was told by a lady here, that on the death of her grandchild, he was not
only enveloped in rich lace, but the diamonds of three condesas and four
marquesas were collected together and put on him, necklaces, bracelets,
rings, brooches and tiaras, to the value of several hundred thousand
dollars. The street was hung with draperies, and a band of music played,
whilst he was visited by all the titled relatives of the family in his dead
splendour, poor little baby! Yet his mother mourned for him as for all her
blighted hopes, and the last scion of a noble house. Grief shows itself in
different ways; yet one might think that when it seeks consolation in
display, it must be less profound than when it shuns it.
LETTER THE TENTH
San Fernando--House of Perez de Galvez--A Removal--Size of the Houses--Old
Monastery--View by Sunset--Evening Visits--Mexican Etiquette--A Night-view
from the Azotea--Tacubaya--Magueys--Making of Pulque--Organos and
Nopal--Environs of Mexico--Miracle--Hacienda--View from the Countess
C---a's House--Arzobispado--Anecdote--Comparative View of Beauty--Indians
Rancheritas--Mexican Cordiality--Masses for the Dead--San Augustin--Form of
Invitation--Death of a Senator--A Mistake.
SAN FERNANDO, 25th February.
We have been engaged for some time past in the disagreeable occupations,
first of finding, then of furnishing, and lastly of entering into a new
house. We were very anxious to hire that of the Marquesa de Juluapa, which
is pretty, well situated, and has a garden; but the agent, after making us
wait for his decision more than a fortnight, informed us that he had
determined to sell it. House-rent is extremely high; nothing tolerable to
be had under two thousand five hundred dollars per annum, unfurnished.
There is also an extraordinary custom of paying a sum called _traspaso_,
sometimes to the amount of fourteen thousand dollars, taking your chance of
having the money repaid you by the next person who takes the house. We next
endeavoured to procure a house not far from our present residence,--a
palace in fact, which I mentioned to you before as having been occupied at
one time by Santa Anna, and at another by the English Legation, but the
present proprietor cannot be prevailed upon to let it. It has a beautiful
garden and olive-ground, but is not a very secure abode, except with a
guard of soldiers. We at length came to the determination of taking up our
quarters here. It is a handsome new house, built by General G----, and has
the fault of being only too large. Built in a square, like all Mexican
houses, the ground-floor, which has a stone-paved court with a fountain in
the middle, contains about twenty rooms, besides outhouses, coach-house,
stables, pigeon-house, garden-house, etc. The second storey where the
principal apartments are, the first-floor being chiefly occupied by
servants, has the same number of rooms, with coal-room, wood-room, bath-
room, and water everywhere, in the court below, in the garden, and on the
azotea, which is very spacious, and where, were the house our own, we might
build a _mirador,_ and otherwise ornament it; but to build for another is
too heroic. The great defect in all these houses is their want of finish;
the great doors that will not shut properly, and the great windows down to
the ground, which in the rainy season will certainly admit water, making
these residences appear something like a cross-breed between a palace and a
barn; the splendour of the one, the discomfort of the other. I will not
inflict upon you the details of all our petty annoyances caused by
procrastinating tradesmen. Suffice it to say, that the Mexican _manana_
(to-morrow), if properly translated, means _never_. As to prices, I
conclude we pay for being foreigners and diplomates, and will not believe
in a first experience. However, we are settled at last, and find the air
here much purer than in the heart of the city, while the maladies and
epidemics so common there, are here almost unknown. Behind this house is a
very small garden, bounded on one side by the great wall which encloses the
orchard of the old monastery of San Fernando, within whose vast precincts
only seven or eight monks now linger. It is an immense building, old and
gray, and time-worn, with church adjoining, and spacious lands appertaining
to it. At all times it is picturesque, but by moonlight or sunset it forms
a most olden-time vision.
At that hour, standing alone in the high-walled garden when the convent
bells are tolling, and the convent itself, with its iron-barred, Gothic
windows, and its gray-green olive-trees that look so unreal and lifeless,
is tinged by the last rays of the sun, the whole seems like a vision, or a
half-remembered sketch, or a memory of romance.
Then the sun sets behind the snow-crowned mountains with a bright fiery
red, covering their majestic sides with a rosy glow, while great black
clouds come sailing along like the wings of night; and then is the hour for
remembering that this is Mexico, and in spite of all the evils that have
fallen over it, the memory of the romantic past hovers there still. But the
dark clouds sail on, and envelop the crimson tints yet lingering and
blushing on the lofty mountains, and like monstrous night-birds brood there
in silent watch; and gradually the whole landscape--mountains and sky,
convent and olive-trees, look gray and sad, and seem to melt away in the
dim twilight.
Then the bright moon rises and flings her silver veil over the mountains,
and lights up the plains, glittering and quivering upon the old gray
stones, and a sound of military music is heard in the distance far and
faint. And all the bells are tolling; from old San Fernando that repeats
himself like a sexagenarian; from the towers of the cathedral, from many a
distant church and convent; and above the rumbling of carriages and the hum
of the city, are heard the notes of a hymn, now rising, now falling on the
ear, as a religious procession passes along to some neighbouring temple.
But it grows late--a carriage enters the courtyard--a visit. There is no
romance here. Men and women are the same everywhere, whether enveloped in
the graceful mantilla, or wearing _Herbault's last_, whether wrapped in
Spanish cloak, or Mexican sarape, or Scottish plaid. The manners of the
ladies here are extremely kind, but Spanish etiquette and compliments are
beyond measure tiresome. After having embraced each lady who enters,
according to the fashion, which after all seems cordial, to say the least
of it, and seated the lady of most consequence on the right side of the
sofa, a point of great importance, the following dialogue is _de rigueur_.
"How are you? Are you well?" "At your service, and you?" "Without novelty
(_sin novedad_) at your service." "I am rejoiced, and how are you, Señora?"
"At your disposal, and you?" "A thousand thanks, and the Señor?" "At your
service, without novelty," etc., etc., etc. Besides, before sitting down,
there is, "Pray be seated." "Pass first, Señorita." "No, madam, pray pass
first." "_Vaya_, well, to oblige you, without further ceremony; I dislike
compliments and etiquette." And it is a fact that there is no real
etiquette but the most perfect _laíssez aller_ in the world. All these are
mere words, tokens of good will. If it is in the morning, there is the
additional question of "How have you passed the night?" And the answer, "In
your service." Even in Mexico the weather affords a legitimate opening for
a conversation battery, but this chiefly when it rains or looks dull,
which, occasioning surprise, gives rise to observation. Besides a slight
change in the degree of heat or cold which we should not observe, they
comment upon.
The visit over, the ladies re-embrace, the lady of the house following her
guest to the top of the staircase, and again compliments are given and
received. "Madam, you know that my house is at your disposal." "A thousand
thanks, madam. Mine is at yours, and though useless, know me for your
servant, and command me in everything that you may desire." "Adieu, I hope
you may pass a good night," etc., etc., etc. At the bottom of the first
landing-place the visitors again turn round to catch the eye of the lady of
the house, and the adieus are repeated. All this, which struck me at first,
already appears quite natural, and would scarce be worth mentioning, but as
affording a contrast to our slight and indifferent manner of receiving and
taking leave of our guests. All the ladies address each other, and are
addressed by gentlemen, by their Christian names, and those who have paid
me more than one or two visits, use the same familiar mode of address to
me. Amongst women I rather like this, but it somewhat startles my ideas of
the fitness of things to hear a young man address a married woman as María,
Antonia, Anita, etc. However, things must be taken as they are meant, and
as no familiarity is intended, none should be supposed....
But these visitors are gone, and into the open court the consolatory moon
is shining. All clouds have passed away, and the blue sky is so blue, as to
dazzle the eyes even in the moonlight. Each star shines out bright, golden,
and distinct, and it seems a sin to sleep and to lose so lovely a night....
But for a true night view, mount upon the Azotea, and see all Mexico
sleeping at your feet; the whole valley and the city itself floating in
moonlight; the blue vault above gemmed with stars, and the mountains all
bathed in silver, the white volcanoes seeming to join earth and sky. Here
even Salvator's genius would fail. We must evoke the ghost of Byron. The
pencil can do nothing. Poetry alone might give a faint idea of a scene so
wondrously beautiful.
26th.--We went yesterday with Mr. M----, his wife and daughter and a padre
to visit the archbishop's palace at Tacubaya, a pretty village about four
miles from Mexico, and a favourite ride of ours in the morning. The country
round Mexico, if not always beautiful, has the merit of being original, and
on the road to Tacubaya, which goes by Chapultepec, you pass large tracts
of country, almost entirely uncultivated, though so near the city, or
covered by the mighty maguey plant, the American agave, which will flourish
on the most arid soil, and, like a fountain in a desert place, furnishes
the poorest Indian with the beverage most grateful to his palate. It seems
to be to them what the reindeer is to the Esquimaux, fitted by nature to
supply all his wants. The maguey and its produce, _pulque_, were known to
the Indians in the most ancient times, and the primitive Aztecs may have
become as intoxicated on their favourite _octli_, as they called it, as the
modern Mexicans do on their beloved pulque.
It is not often that we see the superb flower with its colossal stem, for
the plant that is in blossom is a useless beauty. The moment the
experienced Indian becomes aware that his maguey is about to flower, he
cuts out the heart, covers it over with the side leaves of the plant, and
all the juice which should have gone to the great stem of the flower, runs
into the empty basin thus formed, into which the Indian, thrice a day, and
during several months in succession, inserts his _acojote_ or gourd, a kind
of siphon, and applying his mouth to the other end, draws off the liquor by
suction; a curious-looking process. First it is called honey-water, and is
sweet and scentless; but easily ferments when transferred to the skins or
earthen vases where it is kept. To assist in its fermentation, however, a
little old pulque, _Madre pulque_, as it is called, which has fermented for
many days, is added to it, and in twenty-four hours after it leaves the
plant, you may imbibe it in all its perfection. It is said to be the most
wholesome drink in the world, and remarkably agreeable when one has
overcome the first shock occasioned by its rancid odour. At all events, the
maguey is a source of unfailing profit, the consumption of pulque being
enormous, so that many of the richest families in the capital owe their
fortune entirely to the produce of their magueys. When the owners do not
make the pulque themselves, they frequently sell their plants to the
Indians; and a maguey, which costs a real when first planted, will, when
ready to be cut, sell for twelve or eighteen dollars; a tolerable profit,
considering that it grows in almost any soil, requires little manure, and,
unlike the vine, no very special or periodical care. They are planted in
rows like hedges, and though the individual plant is handsome, the general
effect is monotonous. Of the fibres is made an excellent strong thread
called _pita_, of which pita they make a strong brownish paper, and might
make cloth if they pleased.
There is, however, little improvement made by the Mexicans upon the
ingenuity of their Indian ancestors, in respect to the maguey. Upon paper
made of its fibres, the ancient Mexicans painted their hieroglyphical
figures. The strong and pointed thorns which terminate the gigantic leaves,
they used as nails and pins; and amongst the abuses, not the uses of these,
the ancient sanguinary priests were in the habit of piercing their breasts
and tearing their arms with them, in acts of expiation. Besides, there is a
very strong brandy distilled from pulque, which has the advantage of
producing intoxication in an infinitely shorter period.
Together with the maguey, grows another immense production of nature, the
_organos_, which resembles the barrels or pipes of an organ, and being
covered with prickles, the plants growing close together, and about six
feet high, makes the strongest natural fence imaginable, besides being
covered with beautiful flowers. There is also another species of cactus,
the nopal, which bears the tuna, a most refreshing fruit, but not ripe at
this season. The plant looks like a series of flat green pin-cushions
fastened together, and stuck full of diminutive needles.
But though the environs of Mexico are flat, though there are few trees,
little cultivation, and uninhabited haciendas, and ruined churches in all
directions, still, with its beautiful climate and ever-smiling sky, the
profusion of roses and sweet-peas in the deserted gardens, the occasional
clumps of fine trees, particularly the graceful Arbold de Peru (shinum
molle, the Peruvian pepper-tree), its bending branches loaded with bunches
of coral-coloured berries, the old orchards with their blossoming
fruit-trees, the conviction that everything necessary for the use of man
can be produced with scarcely any labour, all contributes to render the
landscape one which it is impossible to pass through with indifference.
A magnificent ash-tree (the Mexican _fresno_), the pride of Tacubaya; which
throws out its luxuriant branches, covering a large space of ground, was
pointed out to us as having a tradition attached to it. It had nearly
withered away, when the Ylustrisimo Señor Fonti, the last of the Spanish
archbishops, gave it his solemn benediction, and prayed that its vigour
might be restored. Heaven heard his prayer; new buds instantly shot forth,
and the tree has since continued to thrive luxuriantly.
Tacubaya is a scattered village, containing some pretty country-houses, and
some old gardens with stone fountains. The word country-house must not,
however, be understood in the English acceptation of the word. The house,
which is in fact merely used as an occasional retreat during the summer
months, is generally a large empty building, with innumerable lofty rooms,
communicating with each other, and containing the scantiest possible supply
of furniture. One room will have in it a deal table and a few chairs; you
will then pass through five or six quite empty; then you will arrive at two
or three, with green painted bedsteads and a bench; the walls bare, or
ornamented with a few old pictures of Saints and Virgins, and bare floors
ornamented with nothing. To this add a kitchen and outhouses, a garden
running to waste and overrunning with flowers, with stiff stone walks and a
fountain in the middle, an orchard and an olive-ground; such are most of
the haciendas that I have yet seen. That of the Countess C---a, which seems
to be the handsomest in Tacubaya, is remarkable for commanding from its
windows one of the most beautiful views imaginable of Mexico, the volcanoes
and Chapultepec. From her azotea there is also a splendid view of the whole
valley; and as her garden is in good order, that she has an excellent
billiard-table, a piano, but above all, a most agreeable society in her own
family, and that her house is the very centre of hospitality, one may
certainly spend many pleasant hours there, without regretting the absence
of the luxurious furniture, which, in Mexico, seems entirely confined to
the town houses. The countess herself assured us that she had twice
completely furnished the house, but as, in two revolutions, everything was
thrown out of the windows and destroyed, she was resolved in future to
confine herself to _le stricte nécessaire._ We went to see a house and
garden which has fallen, in chance succession, to a poor woman, who, not
being able to occupy her unexpected inheritance, is desirous of selling it.
The garden and grounds are a deserted wilderness of sweets. We were joined
by several monks from a neighbouring convent, and with them went to visit
the archbishop's palace. _Chemin faisant_, the padre informed us that he
was formerly a merchant, a married man, and a friend of Yturbide's. He
failed, his wife died, his friend was shot, and he joined a small community
of priests who lived retired in the convent of La Profesa, which, with its
church is one of the richest in Mexico.
The Arzobispado is a large, handsome, but deserted building, commanding the
same fine view as from the house of the countess, and with a garden and
fine olive-ground, of which the trees were brought from Europe. The garden
was filled with large double pink roses, and bunches of the
mille-fleur-rose, which are disposed in arches, a favourite custom here,
also with a profusion of sweet-peas and jessamine, and a few orange-trees.
The gardener gave us some beautiful bouquets, and we lingered here till
sunset, admiring the view. There is no point from which Mexico is seen to
such advantage. It is even a finer prospect than that from Chapultepec,
since it embraces the castle itself, one of the most striking features in
the landscape. But just as the sun sunk behind the mountains, a sudden
change took place in the weather. The wind rose, great masses of dark
clouds came driving over the sky, and the rain fell in torrents, forcing us
to make a hasty retreat to our carriages, and having omitted to take any
precautions, and this road not being particularly safe at night, we were
probably indebted for our safe return more to "good luck than good
guidance;" or, perhaps, we owed it in part to the _padre_, for the robbers
are shy at attacking either soldiers or priests, the first from fear, and
the second from awe.
Talking of robbers and robberies, rather a fertile theme of conversation,
Señor ----- told me the other day that, in the time of a former president,
it came to pass, that a certain gentleman went to take his leave at the
palace, previous to setting off for Vera Cruz. He was received by the
president, who was alone with his aide-de-camp, General -----, and
mentioned to him in confidence that he was about to take a considerable
sum of money with him, but that it was so well concealed in the lining of a
trunk, which he described, that even if attacked by robbers, it was
impossible they should discover it, and that therefore he did not think it
necessary to take an escort with him. The next day this confidential
gentleman left Mexico, in the diligence. Not far from the gates the coach
was attacked, and, strange to say, the robbers singled out the very trunk
which contained the money, opened it, ripped up the lining, and having
possessed themselves of the sum therein concealed, peaceably departed. It
was a singular coincidence that the captain of the robbers, though somewhat
disguised, bore a striking general resemblance to the president's aide-de-
camp! These coincidences will happen....
My chief occupation, lately, has consisted in returning visits; and it is
certain that, according to our views of the case, there is too wide a
distinction between the full-dress style of toilet adopted by the ladies
when they pay visits, and the undress in which they receive their visitors
at home. To this there are some, nay, many exceptions, but _en masse_ this
is the case....
On first arriving from the United States, where an ugly woman is a phoenix,
one cannot fail to be struck at the first glance with the general absence
of beauty in Mexico. It is only by degrees that handsome faces begin to
dawn upon us; but, however, it must be remarked that beauty without colour
is apt to be less striking and to make less impression on us at first. The
brilliant complexion and fine figure of an Englishwoman strike every one.
The beauty of expression and finely-chiselled features of a Spaniard steal
upon us like a soft moonlight, while a Frenchwoman, however plain, has so
graceful a manner of saying agreeable things, so charming a tournure, such
a piquant way of managing her eyes, and even her mouth, that we think her a
beauty after half an hour's acquaintance, and even lose our admiration for
the quiet and high-bred, but less graceful _Anglaise_. The beauty of the
women here consist in superb black eyes, very fine dark hair, a beautiful
arm and hand, and small, well-made feet. The defects are, that they are
frequently too short and too fat, that their teeth are often bad, and their
complexion not the clear olive of the Spaniards, nor the glowing brown of
the Italians, but a bilious-looking yellow. Their notion of inserting the
foot into a shoe half an inch shorter, ruins the foot, and destroys their
grace in walking, and, consequently, in every movement. This fashion is,
fortunately, beginning to fall into disuse.... It is therefore evident that
when a Mexicana is endowed with white teeth and a fine complexion, when she
has not grown too fat, and when she does not torture her small foot to make
it smaller, she must be extremely handsome.... The general carelessness of
their dress in the morning is, however, another great drawback to beauty. A
woman without stays, with uncombed hair and _reboso_, had need to be very
lovely, if she retain any attraction at all. This indolence, indeed, is
going out of fashion, especially among the younger part of the community,
owing, perhaps, to their more frequent intercourse with foreigners, though
it will probably be long before the morning at home is not considered a
privileged time and place for dishabille. Notwithstanding, I have made many
visits where I have found the whole family in a perfect state of order and
neatness, but I have observed that there the fathers, and what is more
important, the mothers, had travelled in Europe, and established a new
order of things on their return.
Upon the whole, the handsomest women here are not Mexicans, that is, not
born in the capital, but in the provinces. From Puebla, and Jalapa and Vera
Cruz, we see many distinguished by their brilliant complexions and fine
teeth, and who are taller and more graceful than those born in the city of
Mexico; precisely as in Spain, where the handsomest women in Madrid are
said to be those born out of it.
The common Indians, whom we see every day bringing in their fruit and
vegetables to market, are, generally speaking, very plain, with an humble,
mild expression of countenance, very gentle, and wonderfully polite in
their manners to each other; but occasionally, in the lower classes, one
sees a face and form so beautiful, that we might suppose such another was
the Indian who enchanted Cortes; with eyes and hair of extraordinary
beauty, a complexion dark but glowing, with the Indian beauty of teeth like
the driven snow, together with small feet and beautifully-shaped hands and
arms, however imbrowned by sun and toil. In these cases it is more than
probable that, however Indian in her appearance, there must have been some
intermarriages in former days between her progenitors and the descendants
of the conquerors. We also occasionally observe very handsome
_Rancheritas_, wives or daughters of the farmers, riding in front of their
farm-servants on the same horse, with the white teeth and fine figures
which are preserved by the constant exercise that country women must
perforce take, whatever be their natural indolence, while the early fading
of beauty in the higher classes, the decay of teeth, and the
over-corpulency so common amongst them, are no doubt the natural
consequences of want of exercise and of injudicious food. There is no
country in the world where so much animal food is consumed, and there is no
country in the world where so little is required. The consumers are not the
Indians, who cannot afford it, but the better classes, who generally eat
meat three times a day. This, with the quantities of chile and sweetmeats,
in a climate which every one complains of as being irritating and
inflammatory, probably produces those nervous complaints which are here so
general, and for which constant hot baths are the universal and agreeable
remedy.
In point of amiability and warmth of manner, I have met with no women who
can possibly compete with those in Mexico, and it appears to me that women
of all other countries will appear cold and stiff by comparison. To
strangers this is an unfailing charm, and it is to be hoped that whatever
advantages they may derive from their intercourse with foreigners, they may
never lose this graceful cordiality, which forms so agreeable a contrast
with English and American frigidity.
C---n received an invitation some time ago to attend the _honras_ of the
daughter of the Marquis of S---a; that is, the celebration of mass for the
repose of her soul. M---- was observing to-day, that if this Catholic
doctrine be firmly believed, and that the prayers of the Church are indeed
availing to shorten the sufferings of those who have gone before us; to
relieve those whom we love from thousands of years of torture, it is
astonishing how the rich do not become poor, and the poor beggars, in
furtherance of this object; and that if the idea be purely human, it showed
a wonderful knowledge of human nature, on the part of the inventor, as what
source of profit could be more sure?....
Certainly no expense was spared on this occasion. San Augustin, in itself a
beautiful church, was fitted up with extraordinary splendour. The walls and
pillars were covered with draperies of rich crimson velvet. Innumerable wax
candles were lighted, and an invisible band of music played during the
intervals of the deep-rolling organ. All the monks of San Augustin, with
their white hoods and sandalled feet, and carrying lighted tapers, were
ranged near the altar. All the male relatives of the family, dressed in
deep mourning, occupied the high-backed chairs placed along one side of the
church, the floor of which was covered with a carpet, on which various
veiled and mourning figures were kneeling, whom I joined. The whole
service, the chanting, the solemn music, and the prayers, were very
impressive, yet more joyous than sad, perhaps from the pervading feeling
that each note, as it rose to heaven, carried some alleviation to the
spirit of the young and beloved one for whose repose they played, and
brought her nearer to the gates of the Holy City.
She was but twenty when she died; and our first house is close to that of
the Marquis de S---a, her father, so that we were shocked to learn that she
had expired on the night of our great serenade (we, of course, not aware of
her illness), actually to the sound of that gay music, and amidst the
shouting and clapping of hands of the multitude. When the service was over
the procession passed out, every one kissing the hand of the bishop as he
went along, and we found some difficulty in making our way through the
crowds of _léperos_, who, though not allowed to enter the church on this
occasion, were swarming at the gates. Our carriage, as we returned home,
formed one of a file of at least one hundred.
We found on our table another invitation to a very splendid mass, which is
to be performed in San Francisco, on account of the death of a friend of
ours, a senator of a distinguished family. The style of these invitations
is as follows:--A device is engraved on the paper, such as a tomb and
cypress, and below is printed,
"Josd María A----, José G---- de la C---a, and Basilio G----, brothers and
uncle of the Senator Don Augustin T----, who died on the twenty-eighth of
last month, request you to assist at the suffrage of the funeral honours,
which, by the desire of his wife, Doña J---- A----, will be celebrated in
the church of San Francisco on the morning of the eighth of this month of
February, 1840, at nine o'clock."
Beside this invitation, was a piece of information of a different
description:
"General A---- and Anna R---- beg to inform you that they have contracted
matrimony, and have the honour of offering themselves to your disposal.
"M---- Street, No. 24. Mexico, 1840." Here, as in Spain, a lady, after her
marriage, retains[1] her maiden name; and though she adds to it that of her
husband, she is more commonly known by her own.
[Footnote 1: 664]
From ignorance of another Mexican custom, I made rather an awkward blunder
the other day; though I must observe, in my justification, that I had
lately been in the agonies of searching for servants, and had just filled
all the necessary departments pretty much to my satisfaction. Therefore,
when the porter of the Señora de ----- brought me the compliments of his
mistress, and that she begged to inform me that she had another servant at
my disposal (_otra criada á mi disposición_), I returned for answer, that I
was greatly obliged, but had just hired a _recamerera_ (chambermaid). At
this the man, stupid as he was, opened his great eyes with a slight
expression of wonder. Fortunately, as he was turning away, I bethought me
of inquiring of the Señora's health, and his reply, that "she and the baby
were coming on very well," brought the truth suddenly before me, that the
message was merely the etiquette used on informing the friends of the
family of the birth of a child--a conviction which induced me slightly to
alter the style of my answer. _Experientia docet!_
LETTER THE ELEVENTH
Calle de Tacuba--The Leap of Alvarado--The "Noche Triste"--Sale of a
Curate's Goods--Padre Leon--Leprosy--Pictures--The Annunciation--The
Alameda--Paseo de Bucarelli--The Viga--Indians in Canoes--A Murder--A
Country Fête--Visit to the Colegio Vizcaino--The Jota Arragonesa--Old
Soldiers.
The street in which we live forms part of the Calle de Tacuba, the ancient
Tlacopan, one of the great causeways by which ancient Mexico communicated
with the continent. The other two were Tepeyayac (now Guadalupe) and
Iztapalapan, by which last the Mexican emperor and his nobles went out to
receive Cortes on his entrance to Tenochtitlan. The ancient city was
divided into four districts, and this division is still preserved, with a
change from the Indian names to those of San Pablo, San Sebastian, San
Juan, and Santa María. The streets run in the same direction as they did in
former times. The same street frequently changes its name in each division,
and this part of the Calle de Tacuba is occasionally called the "Plazuela
del Sopilote," "San Fernando," and the "Puente de Alvarado," which is the
more classic of the three, as celebrating the valour of a hero; while a
ditch, crossed by a small bridge near this, still retains the name of "el
Salto de Alvarado," in memory of the famous leap given by the valiant
Spaniard, Pedro de Alvarado, on the memorable night called the "_noche
triste_," of the 1st of July, 1520, when the Spaniards were forced to
retreat from Mexico to the mountains of Tepeyayac.
On that "sad night," the rain falling in torrents, the moon and the stars
refusing their light, the sky covered with thick clouds, Cortes commanded
the silent march of his troops. Sandoval, the unconquerable captain, led
his vanguard; and the stern hero, Pedro de Alvarado, brought up the rear. A
bridge of wood was carried by forty soldiers, to enable the troops to pass
the ditches or canals, which must otherwise have impeded their retreat. It
is said that in choosing the night for this march Cortes was guided by the
counsels of an astrologer.
Be that as it may, the first canal was happily passed by means of the
portable bridge. The sentinels who guarded that point were overcome; but
the noise of the struggle attracted the attention of the vigilant priests,
who in the silence of the night were keeping watch in the temple. They blew
the holy trumpets, cried to arms, and awakened the startled inhabitants
from their slumbers.
In a moment the Spaniards were surrounded by water and by land. At the
second canal, which they had already reached, the combat was terrible. All
was confusion, wounds, groans, and death; and the canal became so choked
with dead bodies, that the rear-guard passed over them as over a bridge. We
are told that Cortes himself swam more than once over the canal, regardless
of danger, cheering on his men, giving out his orders, every blow aimed in
the direction of his voice, yet cool and intrepid as ever, in the midst of
all the clamour and confusion and darkness. But arrived at the third canal,
Alvarado finding himself alone, and surrounded by furious enemies, against
whom it was in vain for his single arm to contend, fixed his lance in the
bottom of the canal, and leaning against it, gave one spring to the
opposite shore.
An Aztec author, and contemporary of Cortes, says that when the Indians
beheld this marvellous leap, and that their enemy was safe, they bit the
dust (_comieron tierra_); and that the children of Alvarado, who was ever
after known as "Alvarado of the leap," proved in the course of a lawsuit
before the judges of Tezcuco, by competent witnesses, the truth of this
prowess of their father.
In a hitherto unpublished manuscript which has come to light this year, in
an annual called the "Mosaico Mexicano," there are some curious particulars
concerning the "_noche triste_." It is said that the alarm was given by an
old woman who kept a stall; and mention is made of the extraordinary valour
of a lady called María de Estrada, who performed marvellous deeds with her
sword, and who was afterwards married to Don Pedro Sanchez Farfan. It is
also said that when the Indians beheld the leap they called out, "Truly
this man is the offspring of the sun;" and that this manner of tearing up
the ground, and eating earth by handfuls, was a common Indian mode of
expressing admiration. However, Mexico is so rich in traditions, that when
I particularize this one it is only because we live on the site where the
event took place....
We went a few days ago to see some effects which are for sale, belonging to
a _cura_ who died lately, having heard that he has left some good paintings
amongst them. We went in the evening, and found no one but the agent (an
individual in the Daniel Lambert style), an old woman or two, and the Padre
Leon, a Jesuit, _capellan_ of the Capuchin nuns, and whose face, besides
being handsome, looks the very personification of all that is good, and
mild, and holy. What a fine study for a painter his head would be! The old
priest who died, and who had brought over various valuables from Spain, had
a sister who was a leper, and who died in the hospital of San Lazaro. This
dreadful scourge is by no means wholly unknown here; and though it is
ordained that all who are afflicted by it shall be shut up in this
hospital, I have met two persons, and one of these in society, who have the
disease.
For this house, which is very large, the executors ask a preposterous rent.
The goods of the defunct, which were for sale, were ranged on long tables
in a very large apartment. There were virgins and saints, surplices,
candlesticks, and snuffer-trays; boxes of all sorts and sizes; an ill-set
parure of emeralds and diamonds; several good paintings, especially one of
the Annunciation. There was the death of San José, various saints, etc.,
all religious subjects, as may be supposed. Two C---n bought; one I greatly
coveted. There were also two pieces of embroidered velvet, on which were
the arms of Castile, said to have been hung on a portrait of Queen Cristina
when she entered Madrid. The agent begged C----n to buy them, asking at the
same time an impossible price therefor.
There was moreover a large box full of relics from Jerusalem, which the
padre told me could not be sold, but that I might choose whatever I liked;
so that I returned home with various Agnus Deis, crucifixes, and rosaries.
The next day a messenger from Padre Leon brought me the painting of the
Annunciation, which I had admired so much, and which is a sketch of Bayeu,
a Valencian painter, from his own painting of the Annunciation in the royal
chapel of Aranjuez; also the embroidered velvet, begging my acceptance of
both. We have since wished to show our sense of the padre's politeness, but
he will neither accept presents, nor will he visit any one but such as in
the hour of need require his spiritual services. In the house of sickness
and by the bed of death he is ever to be found, but chiefly if it is also
the abode of poverty. In the house of the rich man he rarely visits, and
then only when his presence has been requested--when he has been called in
to administer spiritual consolation to the sick or the dying. But in the
dwelling of the lowly, in the meanest and most wretched hovels, he has
never to be sought. The guardian and friend of the poor, his charities are
equally extensive and judicious....
Yesterday being a fête-day, the _Paseo_ was very full of carriages, and
consequently more brilliant and amusing than usual. This Paseo is the
Mexican Prado or Hyde Park, while the _Viga_ may be reckoned the Kensington
Gardens of the metropolis, only however as succeeding to the other, for
there is no walking, which in Mexico is considered wholly unfashionable;
and though a few ladies in black gowns and mantillas do occasionally
venture forth on foot very early to shop or to attend mass, the streets are
so ill kept, the pavements so narrow, the crowd so great, and the multitude
of _léperos_ in rags and blankets so annoying, that all these
inconveniences, added to the heat of the sun in the middle of the day, form
a perfect excuse for their non-appearance in the streets of Mexico.
In the Alameda, however, which is so pretty and shady, it is very agreeable
to walk; but though I have gone there frequently in the morning, I have met
but three ladies on foot, and of these two were foreigners. After all,
every one has feet, but ladies alone have carriages, and it may be a
mixture of aristocracy and indolence which prevents the Mexican Doñas from
profaning the soles of their feet by a contact with their mother earth.
The Paseo called _de Bucarelli_, after a viceroy of that name, is a long
and broad avenue bounded by the trees which he planted, and where there is
a large stone fountain, whose sparkling waters look cool and pleasant,
ornamented by a gilded statue of Victory. Here, every evening, but more
especially on Sundays and fête-days, which last are nearly innumerable, may
be seen two long rows of carriages filled with ladies, crowds of gentlemen
on horseback riding down the middle between these carriages, soldiers at
intervals attending to the preservation of public order, and multitudes of
common people and _léperos_, mingled with some well-dressed gentlemen on
foot. The carriages are for the most part extremely handsome--European
coaches with fine horses and odd liveries, mingled with carriages made in
the country, some in the old Mexican fashion, heavy and covered with
gilding, or a modern imitation of an English carriage, strong, but somewhat
clumsy and ill-finished. Various hackney-coaches, drawn by mules, are seen
among the finer equipages, some very tolerable, and others of extraordinary
form and dimensions, which bear tokens of having belonged in former days to
some noble Don.
Horses, as being more showy, are more fashionable in these public
promenades than mules; but the latter animal requires less care, and is
capable of undergoing more fatigue than the horse. Most families have both
mules and horses in their stable, and for those who visit much this is
necessary. The carriages, of which the most fashionable seems to be the
_carratela_, open at the sides, with glass windows, are filled with ladies
in full toilet, without mantillas, their heads uncovered, and, generally,
_coiffees_ with flowers or jewels; but the generality being close coaches,
afford but an indistinct view of the inmates, as they pass along saluting
each other with their fingers or fan. The whole scene, on the evening of a
fête, is exceedingly brilliant, but very monotonous. The equestrians, with
their fine horses and handsome Mexican dresses, apparently take no notice
of the ladies as they pass, rarely salute them, and never venture to enter
into conversation with them. But they are well aware to whom each carriage
belongs, and consequently when it behoves them to make their horses curvet,
and otherwise show off their horsemanship to advantage. Black eyes are upon
them, and they know it. When the carriages have made two or three turns,
they draw up at different stations in a semicircle a little off the road,
and there the inmates sit and view the passers by. Occasional streams of
smoke may be seen issuing from the carriages, but chiefly, it must be
confessed, from the most old-fashioned equipages, and from the hackney-
coaches. Smoking amongst ladies in the higher classes is going very much
out of fashion, and is rarely practised openly except by elderly, or at
least by married ladies. In a secondary class, indeed, young and old inhale
the smoke of their cigaritos without hesitation, but when a custom begins
to be considered _vulgar_, it will hardly subsist another generation.
Unfeminine as it is, I do not think it looks ungraceful to see a pretty
woman smoke.
This Paseo commands a fine view of the mountains, but I greatly prefer the
_Viga_, which now begins to be the fashionable promenade. It is bordered by
a canal shaded by trees, which leads to the _Chinampas_, and is constantly
covered with Indians in their canoes bringing in fruit and flowers and
vegetables to the Mexican market. Early in the morning it is a pretty sight
to see them in these canoes gliding along in a perfect bower of green
branches and flowers.
Yesterday, on returning from an evening drive there, having left C---n and
several gentlemen who had dined with us, taking coffee and smoking upon the
balcony, I found that by good fortune I had escaped being witness of a
murder which took place before our door. These gentlemen had observed, for
some time, a group of persons, male and female, of the lower class, talking
and apparently amusing themselves; sometimes laughing, and at other times
disputing and giving each other blows. Suddenly, one of the number, a man,
darted out from amongst the others, and tried to escape by clambering over
the low wall which supports the arches of the aqueduct. Instantly, and
quite coolly, another man followed him, drew his knife, and stabbed him in
the back. The man fell backwards with a groan, upon which a woman of the
party, probably the murderer's wife, drew out her knife, and stabbed the
man several times to the heart, the others, meanwhile, neither speaking nor
interfering, but looking on with folded arms, and their usual placid smile
of indifference.
At the same time, some soldiers appeared in the distance, riding down the
street; seeing which, the man and woman who had committed the murder,
endeavoured to take shelter in our house. The porter had, fortunately,
barred the doors, and the soldiers riding up, took them both into custody.
No sensation was excited by this, which is an everyday occurrence.
Yesterday I saw a dead man lying near the _Longa_ (the Exchange) and nobody
took any notice of him. "You have been engaged in a disagreeable business,"
said I to Colonel -----, who had come to pay us a visit, and was still _en
grande tenue_, having just returned from the execution of one of his own
soldiers, who had stabbed a comrade. "Yes," said he, with an air of
peculiar gaiety; "we have just been shooting a little _tambour_."... We
were invited, lately, to a "día de campo" (a day in the country), a very
common amusement here, in which, without any peculiar arrangement or
etiquette, a number of people go out to some country place in the environs,
and spend the day in dancing, breakfasting, walking about, etc. This was
given at Tacubaya by Don B---o G---a, a senator, and was amusing enough.
The music consisted of a band of guitars, from which the performers, common
men, and probably self-taught, contrived to draw wonderfully good music,
and, in the intervals of dancing, played airs from the Straniera and
Puritani. The taste for music is certainly universal, the facilities
wonderful, the science nearly at zero.
The ladies in general wore neither diamonds nor pearls, but a sort of demi-
toilet, which would have been pretty if their dresses had been longer and
their shoes not so tight. Some wore bonnets, which are considered full
dress. The E---- family, and the young Señora de C----, were beautifully
dressed. Mexican women, when they sit, have an air of great dignity, and
the most perfect repose of feature. They are always to be seen to most
advantage on their sofas, in their carriages, or in their boxes at the
theatre.
There were immensely long tables, covered with Mexican cookery, which I
begin to get accustomed to; and a great many toasts were given and a great
quantity of champagne drank. We danced a great deal, quadrilles, waltzes
and Spanish country-dances, walked about in the garden and orchard in the
evening, and returned to dance again to the music of the indefatigable
guitars, so that it was dusk when all the carriages set off, much about the
same time, to bear each other company....
The following day, the Countess C---a having been kind enough to procure an
order for permission to visit the _Colegio Vizcaino_, which I was anxious
to see, we went there with a large party. This college, founded by the
gratuitous charities of Spaniards, chiefly from the province of Biscay, is
a truly splendid institution. It is an immense building of stone, in the
form of a square, on the model, they say, of the palace of Madrid, and
possesses in the highest degree that air of solidity and magnificence which
distinguishes the Mexican edifices, and which, together with the width and
regularity of the streets, the vastness of the public squares, the total
absence of all paltry ornament, the balconies with their balustrades and
window-gratings of solid iron and bronze, render Mexico, in spite of its
insufficient police, one of the noblest-looking cities in the world. The
object of this college is to provide for the education of the children of
Spaniards, especially for the descendants of Biscayans, in Mexico; a
certain number being admitted upon application to the directors. There are
female teachers in all the necessary branches, such as reading writing,
sewing, arithmetic, etc.; but besides this, there is a part of the building
with a separate entrance, where the children of the poor, of whatever
country, are educated gratis. These spend the day there, and go home in the
evening. The others are kept upon the plan of a convent, and never leave
the institution while they belong to it; but the building is so spacious
and airy, with its great galleries, and vast court and fine fountains,
garden and spacious azotea, that the children are perfectly well off. There
are _portieres_ and sisters, pretty much as in a convent; together with an
old respectable _Rectora_; and the most perfect order and cleanliness
prevails through the whole establishment.
We first visited the poor scholars, passing through the large halls where
they sat with their teachers, divided into classes, sewing, writing,
reading, embroidering, or casting up accounts, which last accomplishment
must, I think, be sorely against the Mexican genius. One of the teachers
made a little girl present me with a hair chain which she had just
completed. Great order and decorum prevailed. Amongst the permanent
scholars in the upper part of the institution, there are some who embroider
astonishingly well--surplices, altar-hangings, in short, all the church
vestments in gold or silk. In the room where these are kept are the
confessionals for the pupils. The priests are in a separate room, and the
penitents kneel before the grating which separates the two apartments. All
the sleeping-rooms are scrupulously neat and clean, with two green painted
beds in each, and a small parlour off it, and frequently ornamented with
flowers and birds. The girls are taught to cook and iron, and make
themselves generally useful, thus being fitted to become excellent wives to
respectable men in their own rank of life.
We visited the chapel, which is extremely rich and handsome, incrusted with
gilding, and very large. The pupils and their teachers attend mass in the
gallery above, which looks down upon the chapel and has a grating before
it. Here they have the organ, and various shrines, saints, _nacimientos_,
etc. We were afterwards shown into a great hall devoted to a different
purpose, containing at one end a small theatre for the pupils to act plays
in. All the walls of the long galleries are covered with old paintings on
holy subjects, but many of them falling to pieces from damp or want of
care. The building seems interminable, and after wandering all through it
for several hours, and visiting everything--from the garden below where
they gave me a large bunch of roses and carnations, to the azotea above,
which looks down upon every street and church and convent in Mexico--we
were not sorry to rest on the antique, high-backed chairs of a handsome
apartment, of which the walls were hung with the portraits of the different
Spanish directors of the college in an ancient court costume. Here we found
that the directors had prepared a beautiful collation for us--fruit, ices,
cakes, custards, jellies, wines, etc., in great profusion.
Rested and refreshed, we proceeded to visit the pupils at their different
classes. At the writing-class various specimens of that polite art were
presented to us. That of the elder girls was generally bad, probably from
their having entered the college late in life. That of the younger ones was
much more tolerable. We saw some really beautiful specimens of embroidery.
Having returned to the hall where there was a piano, some of our party
began to sing and play. The Señora G---o sang an Italian air beautifully.
She is evidently a scientific musician. The Señorita H---s played one of
Herz's most difficult _combinations_ with great execution, and a pretty
girl, who is living in a convent, having been placed there by her _novio,_
to keep her out of harm's way till he is prepared to give her his hand,
sang a duet with another young lady, which I accompanied. Both had fine
voices, but no notion of what they were singing. My friend the Señora
C---- delighted us with some of the innumerable and amusing verses of the
_Jota Arragonesa,_ which seem to have neither end nor beginning, all gay
and all untranslatable, or at least losing their point and wit when put
into an English dress. Such as
A poor man met with a sixpence,
And for joy he gave up the ghost.
And in the troubles of death,
Even his sixpence was lost.
------
The woman who loves two at once,
Knows what is discreet and right
Since if one of her candles goes out,
Still the other remains alight, etc....
It is impossible to see any building of this size kept more perfectly clean
and neat; generally the case here in all establishments which are under
petticoat government. These old Spanish institutions are certainly on a
magnificent scale, though now for the most part neglected and falling to
ruin; nor has any work of great consequence been attempted since the
independence....
After various alarms and rumours in our house concerning robbers, some
true, some exaggerated, and some wholly false, we have at length procured
two old Spanish soldiers of the _Invalidos,_ who have taken up their
quarters downstairs, and spend their time in cleaning their guns, making
shoes, eating and sleeping, but as yet have had no occasion to prove their
valour. Perhaps the fact of there being soldiers in the house will be
sufficient to keep off the more ordinary robbers.
LETTER THE TWELFTH
The Viga during the Carnival--Variety of Equipages--The Millionaires--The
Monks--Masked Ball--An Alarming Sight--Medical Students--Dinner at the
Prussian Minister's--Rides on Horseback--Indian Love of Flowers--Santa
Anita--The Chinampas--Their Origin--Indians in Canoes--Song of "El Palomo"
--Fighting--The Great Lakes--The Drain of Huehuetoca--The great Market of
Tlatelolco.
16th March.
We are now in Lent in the midst of prayer, church-going, and fasting. The
carnival was not very gay, with the exception of a few public masked balls
and very brilliant _paseos_. The Viga is one of the most beautiful
promenades imaginable, though it might easily be rendered still more so;
but even as it is, with its fine shady trees and canal, along which the
lazy canoes are constantly gliding, it would be difficult, on a fine
evening, just before sunset, especially on the evening of a fête-day, to
find anywhere a prettier or more characteristic scene. Which rank of
society shows the most taste in their mode of enjoyment, must be left to
the scientific to determine; the Indians, with their flower-garlands and
guitars, lying in their canoes, and dancing and singing after their own
fashion as they glide along the water, inhaling the balmy breezes; or the
ladies, who shut up in their close carriages, promenade along in full dress
and silence for a given space of time, acknowledging by a gentle movement
of their fan, the salutations of their fair friends from the recesses of
their coaches, and seeming to dread lest the air of heaven should visit
them too roughly; though the soft breeze, laden with balm, steals over the
sleepy water, and the last rays of the sun are gilding the branches of the
trees with a broken and flickering light....
Then at certain intervals of time each carriage slowly draws up beside its
neighbour (as in the other paseo); the elegant _carratela_ beside the
plebeian hackney-coach; the splendid equipage of the millionaire beside the
lumbering and antique vehicle whose fashion hath now departed. There sit
the inmates in silence, as if the business of life were over, and it was
now their part to watch the busy world from the loopholes of their retreat,
and see it rolling along whilst they take their rest. The gentlemen also
draw up their prancing steeds, though not within hail of the carriages, but
they in the fresh air and under the green trees have as much advantage over
the Señoras as the wandering friar has over the cloistered nun.
Yet enter the Viga about five o'clock, when freshly watered, and the
soldiers have taken their stand to prevent disturbance, and two long lines
of carriages are to be seen going and returning as far as the eye can
reach, and hundreds of gay plebeians are assembled on the sidewalks with
flowers and fruit and _dulces_ for sale, and innumerable equestrians in
picturesque dresses, and with spirited horses, fill up the interval between
the carriages, and the canoes are covering the canal, the Indians singing
and dancing lazily as the boats steal along, and the whole under a blue and
cloudless sky, and in that pure clear atmosphere: and could you only shut
your eyes to the one disagreeable feature in the picture, the number of
léperos busy in the exercise of their vocation, you would believe that
Mexico must be the most flourishing, most enjoyable, and most peaceful
place in the world, and moreover the wealthiest; not a republic, certainly,
for there is no well-dressed _people_; hardly a connecting link between the
blankets and the satins, the poppies and the diamonds. As for the
carriages, many would not disgrace Hyde Park, though there are some that
would send a shiver all along Bond-street; but the very contrast is
amusing, and upon the whole, both as to horses and equipages, there is much
more to admire than to criticise....
There, for example, is the handsome carriage of the rich -----, who has one
of the finest houses in Mexico; his wife wears a velvet turban twisted with
large pearls, and has at this moment a cigar in her mouth. She is not
pretty, but her jewels are superb. How he made his fortune, partly by
gambling, and partly by even less honourable means, let some abler
chronicler relate. Or look at this elegant _carratela_, with its glass
sides all open, giving to view a constellation of fair ones, and drawn by
handsome gray _frisones_. These ladies are remarkable as having a more
European air than most others, brighter colours, longer and simpler
dresses, and Paris bonnets. Perhaps they have been in Europe. It is
remarkable that the horses of the gentlemen all appear peculiarly
unmanageable every time they pass this carriage. Another handsome, plain
carriage, containing the family of one of the Ministers; mother and
daughters all beautiful, with Spanish eyes and dark glowing complexions,
followed close by a hackney-coach containing women with rebosos, and little
children, with their faces and fingers all bedaubed with candy.... Some of
the coachmen and footmen wear Mexican dresses, and others have liveries....
But here come three carriages _en suite_, all with the same crimson and
gold livery, all luxurious, and all drawn by handsome white horses. It is
the President? Certainly not; it is too ostentatious. Even royalty goes in
simpler guise, when it condescends to mingle in the amusements of its
subjects. In the first carriage appear the great man himself and his
consort, rather withdrawing from the plebeian gaze. There is here much
crimson and gold, much glass and well-stuffed cushions, much comfort and
magnificence combined. Two handsome northern steeds, white and prancing,
draw this commodious equipage. The next is a splendid coach containing the
children and servants, while in the third, equally magnificent, are the
babies and nurses. By the side of the first carriage rides an elderly
gentleman, who, were his seat firmer, might be mistaken for a _picador_. He
wears a rich Mexican dress, all covered with gold embroidery; his hat with
gold rolls is stuck jauntily on one side, contrasting oddly enough with his
uneasy expression of countenance, probably caused by the inward trepidation
of which he cannot wholly repress the outward sign while managing his high-
bred steed, and with his feet pressing his silver stirrups, cautiously
touching him with a whip which has a large diamond in the handle.
But the chief wonder of his equipment, and that which has procured him such
a retinue of little ragged and shouting boys, is his saddle. This
extraordinary piece of furniture, which cost the owner five thousand
dollars, is entirely covered with velvet, richly embossed in massive gold;
he sometimes appears with another, inlaid with pure silver.
His whole appearance is the most singular imaginable, and the perturbation
of spirit in which he must return when it begins to grow dusk, and he
reflects at once upon his own value, and his countrymen's taste for
appropriation, must balance the enjoyment which his vanity receives from
the admiration of the little boys in the Paseo.
Just as these millionaires pass by, an old hackney-coach in their wake,
attracts our attention, exactly the sort of quaint old vehicle in which it
sometimes pleases Lady Morgan to introduce her heroines. In it are six
figures, closely masked, their faces covered with shawls. After many
conjectures, it is impossible to guess whether they are men or women. It
_was_ impossible, but as the carriages return, the wind suddenly blows
aside the shawls of two of the party, and discloses the gowns and hoods of
the--friars! _O tempora! O Mores!_
There were three masked balls at the theatre, of which we only attended
one. We went about ten o'clock to a box on the pit tier, and although a
_pronunciamento_ (a fashionable term here for a revolution) was
prognosticated, we found everything very quiet and orderly, and the ball
very gay and crowded. As we came in, and were giving our tickets, a number
of masks came springing by, shrieking out our names in their unearthly
voices. Captain G----, brother of Lord -----, came to our box; also a scion
of _La jeune France_, M. de C----, who condescendingly kept his hat on
during the whole evening. In a box directly above us were the French
legation who arrived lately. Amongst the women, the dresses were for the
most part dominoes, adopted for greater concealment, as it was not
considered very creditable to be there.
There were also several in men's attire, chiefly French modistes, generally
a most disreputable set here, and numerous men dressed as women. There were
masked Poblanas without stockings, and with very short petticoats; knights
in armour; innumerable dresses probably borrowed from the theatre, and even
more than the usual proportion of odd figures. The music was very good, and
the dancers waltzed and _galloped_, and flew round the room like furies.
There was at least no want of animation. Hundreds of masks spoke to us, but
I discovered no one. One in a domino was particularly anxious to direct my
attention to the Poblana dress, and asked me if it would have done for me
to attend a fancy ball in such a costume. Very angry at his absurdity, I
began to explain how I should have dressed, when I recollected the folly of
explaining anything to a creature whom I did not know. C---n stepped out of
the box, to walk amongst the crowd, at which various masks showed great
signs of joy, surrounding and shaking hands with him. The boxes were filled
with ladies, and the scene was very amusing. Señor M----, whose box we
occupied, ordered in cakes and wine, and about one o'clock we left the
ball-room and returned home, one of our soldiers acting as lackey....
I paid a visit the other day, which merits to be recorded. It was to the
rich Señora -----, whose first visit I had not yet returned. She was at
home, and I was shown into a very large drawing-room, where, to my
surprise, I found the lamps, mirrors, etc., covered with black crape, as in
cases of mourning here. I concluded that some one of the family was dead,
and that I had made a very ill-timed first visit. However I sat down, when
my eyes were instantly attracted by _something awful_, placed directly in
front of the sofa where I sat. There were six chairs ranged together, and
on these lay stretched out a figure, apparently a dead body, about six feet
long, enveloped in black cloth, the feet alone visible, from their pushing
up the cloth. Oh, horror! Here I sat, my eyes fixed upon this mysterious
apparition, and lost in conjecture as to whose body it might be. The master
of the house? He was very tall, and being in bad health might have died
suddenly. My being received, argued nothing against this, since the first
nine days after a death, the house is invariably crowded with friends and
acquaintances, and the widow, or orphan, or childless mother must receive
the condolences of all and sundry, in the midst of her first bitter sorrow.
There seems to be no idea of grief wishing for solitude.
Pending these reflections, I sat uneasily, feeling or fancying a heavy air
in the apartment, and wishing, most sincerely, that some living person
would enter. I thought even of slipping away, but feared to give offence,
and in fact began to grow so nervous, that when the Señora de ----- entered
at length, I started up as if I had heard a pistol. She wore a coloured
muslin gown and a blue shawl; no signs of mourning!
After the complimentary preface, I asked particularly after her husband,
keeping a side glance on the mysterious figure. He was pretty well. Her
family? Just recovered from the smallpox, after being severely ill. "Not
dangerously?" said I, hesitatingly, thinking she might have a _tall son_,
and that she alluded to the recovery of the others. "No;" but her sister's
children had been alarmingly ill. "Not _lost_ any, I hope?"--"None." Well,
so taken up was I, that conversation flagged, and I answered and asked
questions at random, until, at last, I happened to ask the lady if she were
going to the country soon. "Not to remain. But to-morrow we are going to
convey a _Santo Cristo_ (a figure of the Crucifixion) there, which has just
been made for the chapel;" glancing towards the figure; "for which reason
this room is, as you see, hung with black." I never felt so relieved in my
life, and thought of the Mysteries of Udolpho.
The houses being so large, and the servants not drilled to announce
visitors; besides that the entresols are frequently let to other families,
it is a matter of no small difficulty for a stranger to pioneer him or
herself into the presence of the people of the house. The mistakes that I
have made! for not being aware of this fact concerning the entresols, which
are often large and handsome, and the porter having begged me to walk up, I
generally stopped at the first landing-place, and then _walked up_ to the
first door that I saw. I did walk in one morning upon two gentlemen who
seemed marvellously startled by my visit. They looked like two medical
students, and were engaged before a table, Heaven knows how; dissecting, I
imagine. I inquired for the Señora -----, which astonished them still more,
as well it might. However, they were very civil, and rushed downstairs to
call up the carriage. After that adventure I never entered a house
unaccompanied by a footman, until I had learnt my way through it.
We had a pleasant dinner-party a few days ago at the Prussian Minister's,
and met the C---s family there. The Condesa de C---- has been a long while
in Europe, and in the best society, and is now entirely devoted to the
education of her daughters, giving them every advantage that Mexico can
afford in the way of masters, besides having at home a Spanish governess to
assist her, an excellent woman, whom they regard as a second mother.
Though there is very little going on in Mexico at present, I amuse myself
very well; there is so much to see, and the people are so kind and
friendly. Having got riding-horses we have been making excursions all round
the country, especially early in the morning, before the sun is high, when
the air is delightfully cool and refreshing. Sometimes we go to the Viga at
six in the morning, to see the Indians bringing in their flowers and
vegetables by the canal. The profusion of sweet-peas, double poppies,
bluebottles, stock gillyflower, and roses, I never saw equalled. Each
Indian woman in her canoe looks as if seated in a floating flower-garden.
The same love of flowers distinguishes them now as in the time of Cortes;
the same which Humboldt remarked centuries afterwards. In the evening these
Indian women, in their canoes, are constantly crowned with garlands of
roses or poppies. Those who sit in the market, selling their fruit or their
vegetables, appear as if they sat in bowers formed of fresh green branches
and coloured flowers. In the poorest village church the floor is strewed
with flowers, and before the service begins fresh nosegays are brought in
and arranged upon the altar. The baby at its christening, the bride at the
altar, the dead body in its bier, are all adorned with flowers. We are told
that in the days of Cortes a bouquet of rare flowers was the most valuable
gift presented to the ambassadors who visited the court of Montezuma, and
it presents a strange anomaly, this love of flowers having existed along
with their sanguinary worship and barbarous sacrifices.
We went the other evening on the canal, in a large canoe with an awning, as
far as the little village of Santa Anita, and saw, for the first time, the
far-famed Chinampas, or floating gardens, which have now become fixtures,
and are covered with vegetables, intermingled with flowers, with a few poor
huts beside them, occupied by the Indians, who bring these to the city for
sale. There were cauliflowers, chili, tomatoes, cabbages, and other
vegetables, but I was certainly disappointed in their beauty. They are
however curious, on account of their origin. So far back as 1245, it is
said the wandering Aztecs or Mexicans arrived first at Chapultepec, when,
being persecuted by the princes of Taltocan, they took refuge in a group of
islands to the south of the lake of Tezcuco. Falling under the yoke of the
Tezcucan kings, they abandoned their island home and fled to Tezapan,
where, as a reward for assisting the chiefs of that country in a war
against other petty princes, they received their freedom, and established
themselves in a city to which they gave the name of Mexicalsingo, from
Mejitli, their god of war--now a collection of strong barns and poor huts.
But they did not settle there, for to obey an oracle they transported
themselves from this city to the islands east of Chapultepec to the western
side of the lake of Tezcuco. An ancient tradition had long been current
amongst them, that wherever they should behold an eagle seated upon a nopal
whose roots pierced a rock, there they should found a great city. In 1325
they beheld this sign, and on the spot, in an island in the lake, founded
the first house of God--the Teocalli, or Great Temple of Mexico. During all
their wanderings, wherever they stopped, the Aztecs cultivated the earth,
and lived upon what nature gave them. Surrounded by enemies and in the
midst of a lake where there are few fish, necessity and industry compelled
them to form floating fields and gardens on the bosom of the waters.
They weaved together the roots of aquatic plants, intertwined with twigs
and light branches, until they had formed a foundation sufficiently strong
to support a soil formed of the earth which they drew from the bottom of
the lake; and on it they sowed their maize, their chili, and all other
plants necessary for their support. These floating gardens were about a
foot above the water, and in the form of a long square. Afterwards, in
their natural taste for flowers, they not only cultivated the useful but
the ornamental, and these small gardens multiplying were covered with
flowers and aromatic herbs, which were used in the worship of the gods, or
were sent to ornament the palace of the emperor. The Chinampas along the
canal of the Viga are no longer floating gardens, but fixed to the mainland
in the marshy grounds lying between the two great lakes of Chalco and
Tezcuco. A small trench full of water separates each garden; and though now
in this marshy land they give but a faint idea of what they may have been
when they raised their flower-crowned heads above the clear waters of the
lake, and when the Indians, in their barks, wishing to remove their
habitations, could tow along their little islands of roses, it is still a
pretty and a pleasant scene.
We bought numerous garlands of roses and poppies from the Indian children,
both here and at Santa Anita, a little village where we landed, and as we
returned towards evening we were amused by the singing and dancing of the
Indians. One canoe came close up to ours, and kept beside it for some time.
A man was lying lazily at the bottom of the boat tingling his guitar, and
one or two women were dancing monotonously and singing at the same time to
his music. Sundry jars of pulque and earthen dishes with tortillas and
chili and pieces of _tasajo_, long festoons of dried and salted beef,
proved that the party were not without their solid comforts, in spite of
the romantic guitar and the rose and poppy garlands with which the dancing
nymphs were crowned. Amongst others they performed the _Palomo_, the Dove,
one of their most favourite dances. The music is pretty, and I send it to
you with the words, the music from ear; the words are given me by my friend
the Señora A---d, who sings all these little Indian airs in perfection. If
we may form some judgment of a people's civilization by their ballads, none
of the Mexican songs give us a very high idea of theirs. The words are
generally a tissue of absurdities, nor are there any patriotic songs which
their new-born freedom might have called forth from so musical a people. At
least I have as yet only discovered one air of which the words bear
reference to the glorious "Grito de Dolores," and which asserts in rhyme
that on account of that memorable event, the Indian was able to get as
drunk as a Christian! The translation of the Palomo is as follows:
"What are you doing, little dove, there in the wineshop? Waiting for my
love until Tuesday, my life. A dove in flying hurt her little wing.
If you have your dove I have my little dove too. A dove in flying all her
feathers fell off. Women pay badly; not all, but some of them. Little dove
of the barracks, you will tell the drummers when they beat the retreat to
strike up the march of my loves. Little dove, what are you doing there
leaning against that wall? Waiting for my dove till he brings me something
to eat." At the end of each verse the chorus of "Palomita, palomo, palomo."
Yet, monotonous as it is, the air is so pretty, the women sang so softly
and sleepily, the music sounded so soothingly as we glided along the water,
that I felt in a pleasant half-dreamy state of perfect contentment, and was
sorry when, arriving at the landing-place, we had to return to a carriage
and civilized life, with nothing but the garlands of flowers to remind us
of the Chinampas.
Unfortunately these people generally end by too frequent applications to
the jarro of pulque, or what is worse to the pure spirit known by the name
of _chingturite;_ the consequence of which is, that from music and dancing
and rose-becrowning, they proceed to quarrelling and jealousy and
drunkenness, which frequently terminates in their fighting, stabbing each
other, or throwing each other into the canal. "The end crowns the work."
Noble as this present city of Mexico is, one cannot help thinking how much
more picturesque the ancient Tenochtitlan was, and how much more fertile
its valley must have been, on account of the great lakes. Yet even in the
time of Cortes these lakes had no great depth of water, and still further
back, in the time of the Indian Emperors, navigation had been so frequently
interrupted in seasons of drought, that an aqueduct had been constructed in
order to supply the canals with water.
After this, the Spaniards, like all new settlers, hewed down the fine trees
in this beautiful valley, both on plain and mountain, leaving the bare soil
exposed to the vertical rays of the sun. Then their well-founded dread of
inundation caused them to construct the famous _Desague_ of Huehuetoca, the
drain or subterranean conduit or channel in the mountain for drawing off
the waters of the lakes; thus leaving marshy lands or sterile plains
covered with carbonate of soda, where formerly were silver lakes covered
with canoes. This last was a necessary evil, since the Indian emperors
themselves were sensible of its necessity and had formed great works for
draining the lakes, some remains of which works still exist in the vicinity
of the Penon. The great Desague was begun in 1607, when the Marquis of
Salinas was viceroy of Mexico; and the operations were commenced with great
pomp, the viceroy assisting in person, mass being said on a portable altar,
and fifteen hundred workmen assembled, while the marquis himself began the
excavation by giving the first stroke with a spade. From 1607 to 1830,
eight millions of dollars were expended, and yet this great work was not
brought to a conclusion. However, the limits of the two lakes of Zumpango
and San Cristobal, to the north of the valley, were thus greatly reduced,
and the lake of Tezcuco, the most beautiful of all the five, no longer
received their contributions. Thus the danger of inundations has
diminished, but water and vegetation have diminished also, and the suburbs
of the city, which were formerly covered with beautiful gardens, now
present to the eye an arid expanse of efflorescent salt. The plains near
San Lazaro especially, in their arid whiteness, seem characteristic of the
unfortunate victims of leprosy enclosed in the walls of that hospital.
We rode out the other day by the _barrio_, or ward of Santiago, which
occupies part of the ancient Tlatelolco, which once constituted a separate
state, had kings of its own, and was conquered by a Mexican monarch, who
made a communication by bridges between it and Mexico. The great market
mentioned by Cortes was held here, and its boundaries are still pointed
out, whilst the convent chapel stands on the height where Cortes erected a
battering engine, when he was besieging the Indian Venice.
LETTER THE THIRTEENTH
Convent of San Joaquin--Mexico in the Morning--Tacuba--Carmelite Prior--
Convent Garden--Hacienda of Los Morales--El Olivar--A _Huacamaya_--
Humming-birds--Correspondence--Expected Consecration--Visit to the
Mineria--Botanic Garden--Arbol de las Manilas--The Museum--Equestrian
Statue--Academy of Painting and Sculpture--Disappointment.
Early this morning we rode to the convent of San Joaquin, belonging to
friars of the Carmelite order, passing through Tacuba, the ancient
Tlacopan, once the capital of a small kingdom, and whose monarch,
_Tetlepanquetzaltzin_ (short and convenient name), Cortes caused to be hung
on a tree for a supposed or real conspiracy. The number of carts, the
innumerable Indians loaded like beasts of burden, their women with baskets
of vegetables in their hands and children on their backs, the long strings
of _arrieros_ with their loaded mules, the droves of cattle, the flocks of
sheep, the herds of pigs, render it a work of some difficulty to make one's
way on horseback out of the gates of Mexico at an early hour of the
morning, but it must be confessed, that the whole scene is lively and
cheerful enough to make one forget that there is such a thing as care in
the world. There is an indifferent, placid smile on every face, and the
bright blue sky smiling over them all; dogs bark, and asses bray, and the
Indian, with near a mule's load on his back, drags his hat off to salute a
bevy of his bronze-coloured countrymen, nearly equally laden with himself,
and they all show their teeth and talk their liquid Indian and pass on.
These plains of Tacuba, once the theatre of fierce and bloody conflicts,
and where, during the siege of Mexico, Alvarado of the Leap fixed his camp,
now present a very tranquil scene. Tacuba itself is now a small village of
mud huts, with some fine old trees, a few very old ruined houses, a ruined
church, and some traces of a building which--assured us had been the palace
of their last monarch; whilst others declare it to have been the site of
the Spanish encampment.
San Joaquin, also a poor village, contains the fine convent and immense
walled garden and orchard belonging to the rich monks of the Carmelite
order. As C---n knows the prior, he sent in our names, and I was admitted
as far as the sacristy of the convent church. The prior received us with
the utmost kindness: he is a good-looking man, extremely amiable and
well-informed, and still young. The gentlemen were admitted into the
interior of the convent, which they describe as being a very large handsome
building, clean and airy, with a fine old library, chiefly composed of
theological works; to the garden, which is immensely large, and though not
much cultivated, full of flowers; and to the great orchard, celebrated for
the profusion and excellence of its fruit. There is a mirador in the garden
which can be seen from the road, and from which there is a very extensive
view. I was very anxious for admission only to the garden, and pleaded the
_manly_ appearance of my riding-hat, which would prevent all scandal were I
seen from a distance; but the complaisance of the good prior would not go
quite so far as that, so I sat in the sacristy and conversed with a good-
natured old monk with a double chin, whilst the others wandered through the
grounds. They afterwards gave us a very nice breakfast, simple but good;
fish from the lake, different preparations of eggs, _riz-ou-lait_, coffee,
and fruit. The monks did not sit down with us, nor would they partake of
anything themselves.
We went in the evening to see a pretty hacienda called Los Morales (the
mulberry-tree) belonging to a Spaniard, which has a nice garden with a bath
in it, and where they bestowed a quantity of beautiful flowers on us.
The other day we set off early, together with the Belgian and French
Ministers and their families, in carriages, to visit a beautiful deserted
hacienda, called _el Olivar_, belonging to the Marquis of Santiago. The
house is perfectly bare, with nothing but the walls; but the grounds are a
wilderness of tangled flowers and blossoming trees, rose-bushes,
sweet-peas, and all manner of fragrant flowers. We passed an agreeable day,
wandering about, breakfasting on the provisions brought with us, arranging
large bouquets of flowers, and firing at a mark, which must have startled
the birds in this solitary and uncultivated retreat. We had a pleasant
family dinner at the E----'s, and passed the evening at the Baron
de -----'s. The gentlemen returned late, it being the day of a diplomatic
dinner at the English Minister's.
The Countess del V---e has just sent me a beautiful bird with the most
gorgeous plumage of the brightest scarlet and blue. It is called a
_huacamaya_, and is of the parrot species, but three times as large, being
about two feet from the beak to the tip of the tail. It is a superb
creature but very wicked, gnawing not only its own pole, but all the doors,
and committing great havoc amongst the plants, besides trying to bite every
one who approaches it. It pronounces a few words very hoarsely and
indistinctly, and has a most harsh, disagreeable cry. In fact it presumes
upon its beauty to be as unamiable as possible.
I prefer some beautiful little humming-birds (_chupamirtos_ as they are
called here) which have been sent me, and which I am trying to preserve
alive, but I fear the cold will kill them, for though we see them
occasionally here, hanging by their beaks upon the branches of the flowers,
like large butterflies, and shaking their brilliant little wings so rapidly
that they seem to emit sparkles of coloured light; still this is not their
home; properly speaking, they belong to the _tierra caliente_. These little
birds are of a golden green and purple, and are so tame, that whilst I am
writing I have two on my shoulder and one perched on the edge of a glass,
diving out its long tongue for sugar and water. Our live stock is
considerable: we have Guinea fowls, who always remind me of old maiden
ladies in half-mourning, and whose screaming notes match those of the
huacamaya; various little green parrots; a scarlet cardinal, one hundred
and sixty pigeons in the pigeon-house, and three fierce dogs in conspicuous
situations.
I received a very polite letter today from the Señora de Santa Anna, and as
it was enclosed in a few lines from Santa Anna himself, I send you his
_autograph_, for I doubt much whether we have seen the last of that
illustrious personage, or whether his philosophic retirement will endure
for ever.
I have been endeavouring lately to procure permission from Señor Posada,
who is shortly to be consecrated archbishop, to visit the convents of nuns
in Mexico. Señor C---o, secretary of state, our particular friend, has been
kind enough to interest himself in the matter, though with indifferent
hopes of success. A few days ago he sent me his correspondence with Señor
Posada, who observes that the vice-queens alone had the privilege of the
_entree_, and seems to hesitate a good deal as to the advisableness of
granting a permission which might be considered a precedent for others.
However, I think he is too amiable to resist our united entreaties. I hold
out as an argument, that C---n, being the _duplicado_ of the queen herself,
my visit is equal to that of the vice-queen, which argument has at least
amused him. His consecration is fixed for the 31st of May.
Don Pedro Fonti, the last archbishop named in the time of the Spanish
dominion, having renounced the mitre, three illustrious churchmen were
proposed to fill the vacant place: this Don Manuel Posada, Don Antonio
Campos, and Dr. Don José María de Santiago. The first was chosen by the
Mexican government, and was afterwards proclaimed in the Roman Consistory
last December, with the approbation of Gregory XVI. They are now only
waiting for the pontifical bulls, which are daily expected from Rome; and
it is said that the ceremony, which will take place in the cathedral, will
be very magnificent.
April 3rd.--Accompanied by the--Minister, we spent yesterday in visiting
the Mineria, the Botanic Garden, the Museum, etc., all which leave a
certain disagreeable impression on the mind, since, without having the
dignity of ruins, they are fine buildings neglected. The Mineria, or School
of Mines, the work of the famous architect and sculptor Tolsa, is a
magnificent building, a palace whose fine proportions would render it
remarkable amongst the finest edifices of any European country. All is on a
great scale, its noble rows of pillars, great staircases, large apartments
and lofty roofs, but it reminds one of a golden aviary, containing a few
common sparrows. Several rich Spaniards contributed more than six hundred
thousand dollars to its construction. We were shown through the whole of
this admirable building by the director, who occupies a very handsome house
attached to it. But however learned the professors may be,--and amongst
them is the scientific Señor del Rio, now very old, but a man of great
learning and research,--the collection of minerals, the instruments and
models, are all miserable and ill kept.
The Botanic Garden, within the palace, is a small ill-kept enclosure, where
there still remain some rare plants of the immense collection made in the
time of the Spanish government, when great progress was made in all the
natural sciences, four hundred thousand dollars having been expended in
botanical expeditions alone. Courses of botanical lectures were then given
annually by the most learned professors, and the taste for natural history
was universal.
El Arbol de las Manitas (the tree of the small hands) was the most curious
which we saw in the garden. The flower is of a bright scarlet, in the form
of a hand, with five fingers and a thumb; and it is said that there are
only three of these trees in the republic. The gardener is an old Italian,
who came over with one of the viceroys, and though now one hundred and ten
years old, and nearly bent double, possesses all his faculties. The garden
is pretty from the age of the trees, and luxuriance of the flowers, but
melancholy as a proof of the decay of the science in Mexico. The palace
itself, now occupied by the president, formerly belonged to Cortes, and was
ceded by his descendants to the government. In exchange they received the
ground formerly occupied by the palace of the Aztec kings, and built on it
a very splendid edifice, where the state archives are kept, and where the
_Monte Pio_ (the office where money is lent on plate, jewels, etc.) now is,
the director of which is Don Francisco Tagle, whose apartments within the
building are very elegant and spacious.
The Museum within the University, and opposite the palace, in the plaza
called del Volador, contains many rare and valuable works, many curious
Indian antiquities, but they are ill arranged. On the walls are the
portraits of the vice-kings, beginning with Hernan Cortes. We spent a long
while here examining these antiquities; but we have seen nothing in Mexico
to equal the beauty of the colossal equestrian statue in bronze of Charles
IV, placed on a pedestal of Mexican marble, which stands in the court of
the University, but formerly adorned the middle of the square. It is a
magnificent picture of sculpture, the masterpiece of Tolosa, remarkable for
the noble simplicity and purity of its style, and was made at the expense
of an ex-viceroy, the Marquis of Branciforte. We also saw the goddess of
war lying in a corner of the court, beside the stone of sacrifices, which
we had already been shown.
To-day we have been visiting the Academy of painting and sculpture, called
the Academy of Fine Arts, of which I unfortunately recollected having read
Humboldt's brilliant account, in my forcibly prolonged studies on board the
Jason, and that he mentions its having had the most favourable influence in
forming the national taste. He tells us that every night, in these spacious
halls, well illumined by Argand lamps, hundreds of young men were
assembled, some sketching from the plaster-casts, or from life, and others
copying designs of furniture, candelabras and other bronze ornaments; and
that here all classes, colours, and races, were mingled together; the
Indian beside the white boy, and the son of the poorest mechanic beside
that of the richest lord. Teaching was gratis, and not limited to landscape
and figures, one of the principal objects being to propagate amongst the
artists a general taste for elegance and beauty of form, and to enliven the
national industry. Plaster-casts, to the amount of forty thousand dollars,
were sent out by the King of Spain, and as they possess in the academy
various colossal statues of basalt and porphyry, with Aztec hieroglyphics,
it would have been curious, as the same learned traveller remarks, to have
collected these monuments in the courtyard of the Academy, and compared the
remains of Mexican sculpture, monuments of a semi-barbarous people, with
the graceful creations of Greece and Rome.
Let no one visit the Academy with these recollections or anticipations in
his mind.... That the simple and noble taste which distinguishes the
Mexican buildings, their perfection in the cutting and working of their
stones, the chaste ornaments of the capitals and relievoes, are owing to
the progress they made in this very Academy is no doubt the case. The
remains of these beautiful but mutilated plaster-casts, the splendid
engravings which still exist, would alone make it probable; but the present
disorder, the abandoned state of the building, the non-existence of these
excellent classes of sculpture and painting, and, above all, the low state
of the fine arts in Mexico, at the present day, are amongst the sad proofs,
if any were wanting, of the melancholy effects produced by years of civil
war and unsettled government....
The Holy Week is now approaching, and already Indians are to be seen
bringing in the palm-branches and the flowers for the altars, and they are
beginning to erect booths and temporary shops, and to make every
preparation for the concourse of people who will arrive next Sunday from
all the different villages and ranchoes, far and near.
LETTER THE FOURTEENTH
Palm Sunday--Holy Thursday--Variety of Costumes--San Francisco--Santo
Domingo--Santa Teresa--Nuns--Stone Bust--The Academy--Religious
Procession--Pilgrimage to the Churches--Santa Clara--Nun's
Voice--Orange-trees and Rose-bushes--The Cathedral Illuminated--Our Saviour
in Chains--Good Friday--The great Square towards Evening--Dresses of Men,
Women, and Children--Approach of the Host--Judas--Great
Procession--_Miserere_--The Square by Moonlight--A Lonely Walk--_Sábado de
Gloria_--Ball in Contemplation--Weekly Soirées--Embroidered Muslins--A
Tertulia at Home.
21st April.
On the morning of Palm Sunday, I went to the Cathedral, accompanied by
Mademoiselle de -----, daughter of the ----- Minister. We found it no easy
matter to make our way through the crowd; but at last, by dint of patience
and perseverance, and changing our place very often, we contrived to arrive
very near the great altar; and there we had just taken up our position,
when a disinterested man gave us a friendly hint, that as the whole
procession, with their branches, must inevitably squeeze past the spot
where we were, we should probably be crushed or suffocated; consequently we
followed him to a more convenient station, also close to the altar and
defended by the railing, where we found ourselves tolerably well off. Two
ladies, to whom he made the same proposition, and who rejected it, we
afterwards observed in a sad condition, their mantillas nearly torn off and
the palm-branches sweeping across their eyes. In a short time, the whole
cathedral presented the appearance of a forest of palm-trees, (_à la_
Birnam wood) moved by a gentle wind; and under each tree a half-naked
Indian, his rags clinging together with wonderful pertinacity; long,
matted, dirty black hair both in men and women, bronze faces with mild
unspeaking eyes, or all with one expression of eagerness to see the
approach of the priests. Many of them had probably travelled a long way,
and the palms were from _tierra caliente_, dried and plaited into all
manner of ingenious ways. Each palm was about seven feet high, so as far to
overshadow the head of the Indian who carried it; and whenever they are
blessed, they are carried home to adorn the walls of their huts. The
priests arrived, at length, in great pomp; and also carrying
palm-branches. For four mortal hours, we remained kneeling or sitting on
the floor, and thankful we were when it was all over, and we could make our
way once more into the fresh air. From this day, during the whole week, all
business is suspended, and but one train of thought occupies all classes,
from the highest to the lowest. The peasants flock from every quarter,
shops are shut, churches are opened; and the Divine Tragedy enacted in
Syria eighteen hundred years ago, is now celebrated in land then
undiscovered, and by the descendants of nations sunk in Paganism for
centuries after that period. But amongst the lower classes, the worship is
emphatically the worship of Her who Herself predicted, "From henceforth all
nations shall call me blessed." Before her shrines, and at all hours,
thousands are kneeling. With faces expressive of the most intense love and
devotion, and with words of the most passionate adoration, they address the
mild image of the Mother of God. To the Son their feelings seem composed of
respectful pity, of humble but more distant adoration; while to the Virgin
they appear to give all their confidence, and to look up to her as to a
kind and bountiful Queen, who, dressed in her magnificent robes and
jewelled diadem, yet mourning in all the agony of her divine sorrows, has
condescended to admit the poorest beggar to participate in her woe, whilst
in her turn she shares in the afflictions of the lowly, feels for their
privations, and grants them her all-powerful intercession.
On Holy Thursday nothing can be more picturesque than the whole appearance
of Mexico. No carriages are permitted and the ladies, being on foot, take
the opportunity of displaying all the riches of their toilet. On this day
velvets and satins are your only wear. Diamonds and pearls walk the
streets. The mantillas are white or black blonde; the shoes white or
coloured satin. The petticoats are still rather short, but it would be hard
to hide such small feet, and such still smaller shoes. "Il faut souffrir
pour être belle," but _à quoi bon être belle?_ if no one sees it. As for
me, I _ventured_ upon a lilac silk of Palmyre's, and a black mantilla.
The whole city was filled with picturesque figures. After the higher
Señoras were to be remarked the common women, chiefly in clear white, very
stiffly starched muslins, some very richly embroidered, and the petticoat
trimmed with lace, white satin shoes, and the dresses extremely short,
which in them looks very well. A reboso is thrown over all. Amongst these
were many handsome faces, but in a still lower and more Indian class, with
their gay-coloured petticoats, the faces were sometimes beautiful, and the
figures more upright and graceful; also they invariably walk well whilst
many of the higher classes, from tight shoes and want of custom, seem to
feel pain in putting their feet to the ground.
But none could vie with the handsome Poblana peasants in their holiday
dresses, some so rich and magnificent, that, remembering the warning of our
Ministerial friends, I am inclined to believe them more showy than
respectable. The pure Indians, with whom the churches and the whole city is
crowded, are as ugly as can be imagined; a gentle, dirty, and
much-enduring race. Still, with their babies at their backs, going along at
their usual gentle trot, they add much to the general effect of the _coup-
d'oeil_.
We walked to San Francisco about ten o'clock, and the body of the church
being crowded, went upstairs to a private gallery with a gilded grating,
belonging to the Countess de Santiago, and here we had the advantage of
seats, besides a fine view of the whole. This church is very splendid, and
the walls were hung with canvas paintings representing different passages
of our Saviour's life; his entry into Jerusalem, the woman of Samaria at
the well, etc., which, with the palm-trees had a cool and oriental effect.
Before the altar, which was dazzling with jewels, was a representation of
the Lord's Supper, not in painting, but in sculptured figures as large as
life, habited in the Jewish dresses. The bishops and priests were in a
blaze of gold and jewels. They were assisted during the ceremony by the
young Count of Santiago. The music was extremely good, and the whole effect
impressive. We visited several churches in the course of the day, and
continued walking until four o'clock, when we went to dine with our friends
the A---s. After dinner one of their coachmen, a handsome Mexican, in a
superb dress, all embroidered in gold, was called upstairs to dance the
_Jarabe_ to us with a country girl. The dance is monotonous, but they
acquitted themselves to perfection.
We then continued our pilgrimage through the city, though, as the sun
had not yet set, we reserved our chief admiration until the churches
should be illuminated. One, however, we entered at sunset, which is
worthy of remark--Santo Domingo. It looked like a little Paradise, or
a story in the Arabian Nights. All the steps up the altar were covered
with pots of beautiful flowers; orange-trees, loaded with fruit and
blossom, and rose-bushes in full bloom, glasses of coloured water, and
all kinds of fruit. Cages full of birds, singing delightfully, hung from
the wall, and really fine paintings filled up the intervals. A gay
carpet covered the floor, and in front of the altar, instead of the
usual representation of the Saviour crucified, a little infant Jesús,
beautifully done in wax, was lying amidst flowers with little angels
surrounding him. Add to this, the music of Romeo and Juliet, and you may
imagine that it was more like a scene in an opera, than anything in a
church. But certainly, as the rays of the setting sun streamed in with a
rosy light through the stained windows, throwing a glow over the whole;
birds, and flowers, and fruit, paintings and angels, it was the
prettiest and most fantastic scene I ever beheld, like something
expressly got up for the benefit of children.
We did not kneel before each altar for more than three minutes, otherwise
we should never have had time even to enter the innumerable churches which
we visited in the course of the night. We next went to Santa Teresa la
Nueva, a handsome church, belonging to a convent of strict nuns, which was
now brilliantly illuminated; and here, as in all the churches, we made our
way through the crowd with extreme difficulty. The number of _léperos_ was
astonishing, greatly exceeding that of well-dressed people. Before each
altar was a figure, dreadful in the extreme, of the Saviour, as large as
life, dressed in purple robe and crown of thorns, seated on the steps of
the altar, the blood trickling from his wounds; each person, before leaving
the church, devoutly kneeling to kiss his hands and feet. The nuns, amongst
whom is a sister of Señor A----, sung behind the grating of the gallery
above, but were not visible.
One of the churches we visited, that of Santa Teresa, called the _Antigua_,
stands upon the site formerly occupied by the palace of the father of the
unfortunate Montezuma. It was here that the Spaniards were quartered when
they took Montezuma prisoner, and here Cortes found and appropriated the
treasures of that family. In 1830 a bust of stone was found in the yard of
the convent, which the workmen were digging up. Don Lucas Alaman, then
Minister of Exterior Relations, offered a compensation to the nuns for the
curious piece of antiquity which they gladly gave up to the government, on
whose account he acted. It is said to be the idol goddess of the Indians,
_Centeotl_, the goddess of medicine and medicinal herbs, also known by the
name of _Temaz calteci_, or the "Grandmother of the Baths." A full account
is given of her in one of the numbers of the "Mosaico Megicano," as also of
a square stone found in the same place, beautifully carved, and covered
with hieroglyphical characters.
In the evening, towards the hour when the great procession was expected, we
went to the balconies of the Academia, which command a fine view of the
streets by which it was to pass. Till it arrived we amused ourselves by
looking over the _beaux restes_ of former days, the collections of painting
and sculpture, the fine plaster-casts that still remain, and the great
volumes of fine engravings. It was dark when the procession made its
appearance, which rendered the effect less gaudy and more striking. The
Virgin, the Saints, the Holy Trinity, the Saviour in different passages of
his life, imprisonment and crucifixion, were carried past in succession,
represented by figures magnificently dressed, placed on lofty scaffoldings
of immense weight, supported by different bodies of men. One is carried by
the coachmen, another by the aguadores (water-carriers), a third by the
cargadores (porters), a Herculean race.
First arrived the favourite protectress of all classes, the Virgin of
Dolores, surmounted by a velvet canopy, seated on a glittering throne,
attired in her sable robes, her brow surmounted by glittering rays, and
contracted with an expression of agony; of all representations of the
Virgin, the only one which is always lovely, however rudely carved, with
that invariably beautiful face of terrible anguish. Then followed the
Saviour bearing the cross; the Saviour crucified, the Virgin supporting the
head of her dying son; the Trinity (the Holy Spirit represented by a dove);
all the apostles, from St. Peter with the keys to Judas with the money-bag;
and a long train of saints, all brilliantly illuminated and attended by an
amazing crowd of priests, monks, and laymen. However childish and
superstitious all this may seem, I doubt whether it be not as well thus to
impress certain religious truths on the minds of a people too ignorant to
understand them by any other process. By the time the last saint and angel
had vanished, the hour was advanced, and we had still to visit the
illuminated churches. Being recommended to divest ourselves of our
ornaments before wandering forth amongst the crowd, a matter of some moment
to the Señora A----, who wore all her diamonds, we left our earrings,
brooches, etc., in charge of the person who keeps the Academia, and
recommenced our pilgrimage.
Innumerable were the churches we visited that evening; the Cathedral, La
Ensenanza, Jesús María, Santa Clara, Santa Brigida, San Hipólito, La
Encarnación, the five churches of San Francisco, etc., etc., a list without
an end, kneeling for a short space of time before each blazing altar, for
the more churches one visits, the more meritorious is the devotion. The
cathedral was the first we entered, and its magnificence struck us with
amazement. Its gold and silver and jewels, its innumerable ornaments and
holy vessels, the rich dresses of the priests, all seemed burning in almost
intolerable brightness. The high altar was the most magnificent; the
second, with its pure white marble pillars, the most imposing.
The crowd was immense, but we made our way slowly through it to the foot of
each altar, where the people were devoutly kissing the Saviour's hand or
the hem of his garment; or beating their breasts before the mild image of
Our Lady of Grief. Each church had vied with the other in putting forth all
its splendour of jewellery, of lights, of dresses, and of music.
In the church of Santa Clara, attached to the convent of the same name,
small but elegant, with its pillars of white marble and gold, one voice of
angelic sweetness was singing behind the grating alone, and in the midst of
a most deathlike stillness. It sounded like the notes of a nightingale in a
cage. I could have listened for hours, but our time was limited, and we set
off anew. Fortunately the evening was delightful, and the moon shining
brightly. We visited about twenty churches in succession. In all the organ
was pealing, the blaze of light overpowering, the magnificence of jewels
and crimson velvet and silver and gold dazzling, the crowd suffocating, the
incense blinding.
The prettiest effect in every church was caused by the orange-trees and
rose-bushes, which covered the steps of the altars, up to where the
magnificence of the altar itself blazed out; and the most picturesque
effect was produced by the different orders of monks in their gowns and
hoods, either lying on their faces or standing ranged with torches like
figures carved in stone.
In the passage leading to most of the churches was a table, at which
several ladies of the highest rank sat collecting alms for the poor. The
fair _queteuses_ had not been very successful, and that chiefly amongst the
lower classes. The fatigue was terrible, walking for so many hours on that
bad pavement with thin satin shoes, so that at length our feet seemed to
move mechanically, and we dropped on our knees before each altar like
machines touched by a spring, and rose again with no small effort. Of all
the churches we entered that night, the cathedral was the most magnificent,
but the most beautiful and tasteful was San Francisco. The crowd there was
so dense, that we were almost carried off our feet, and were obliged, in
defiance of all rule, to take the arms of our _caballeros_. Still it was
worth the trouble of making our way through it to see such a superbly
illuminated altar. It was now eleven o'clock, and the crowd were breaking
up as the churches are shut before midnight. In one corner of the middle
aisle, near the door, was the representation of a prison from which issued
a stream of soft music, and at the window was a figure of Christ in chains,
his eyes bandaged, and a Jew on each side; the chains hanging from his
hands, and clanking as if with the motion of his arms. The rush here was
immense. Numbers of people were kneeling before the window of the prison,
and kissing the chains and beating their breasts with every appearance of
contrition and devotion. This was the night before the Crucifixion, and the
last scene of the Holy Thursday.
We reached home hardly able to stand. I never felt more dazzled,
bewildered, and sleepy; but I was wakened by finding a packet of letters
from home, which brought back my thoughts, or rather carried them away to
very different lands.
On Good Friday, a day of sorrow and humiliation, the scene in the morning
is very different. The great sacrifice is complete--the Immortal has died a
mortal death. The ladies all issue forth in mourning, and the churches look
sad and wan after their last night's brilliancy. The heat was intense. We
went to San Francisco, again to the Tribuna of the Countess de Santiago, to
see the Adoration and Procession of the Cross, which was very fine.
But the most beautiful and original scene was presented towards sunset in
the great square, and it is doubtful whether any other city in the world
could present a _coup-d'oeil_ of equal brilliancy. Having been offered the
_entree_ to some apartments in the palace, we took our seats on the
balconies, which commanded a view of the whole. The Plaza itself, even on
ordinary days, is a noble square, and but for its one fault, a row of shops
called the Parian, which breaks its uniformity, would be nearly unrivalled.
Every object is interesting. The eye wanders from the cathedral to the
house of Cortes (the Monte Pio), and from thence to a range of fine
buildings with lofty arcades to the west. From our elevated situation, we
could see all the different streets that branch out from the square,
covered with gay crowds pouring in that direction to see another great
procession, which was expected to pass in front of the palace. Booths
filled with refreshments, and covered with green branches and garlands of
flowers, were to be seen in all directions, surrounded by a crowd who were
quenching their thirst with orgeat, _chia_,[1] lemonade, or pulque. The
whole square, from the cathedral to the Portales, and from the Monte Pio to
the palace, was covered with thousands and tens of thousands of figures,
all in their gayest dresses, and as the sun poured his rays down upon their
gaudy colours, they looked like armies of living tulips. Here was to be
seen a group of ladies, some with black gowns and mantillas; others, now
that their church-going duty was over, equipped in velvet or satin, with
their hair dressed,--and beautiful hair they have; some leading their
children by the hand, dressed... alas! how they were dressed! Long velvet
gowns trimmed with blonde, diamond earrings, high French caps befurbelowed
with lace and flowers, or turbans with plumes of feathers. Now and then the
head of a little thing that could hardly waddle alone, might have belonged
to an English dowager-duchess in her opera-box. Some had extraordinary
bonnets, also with flowers and feathers, and as they toddled along, top
heavy, one would have thought they were little old women, till a glimpse
was caught of their lovely little brown faces and black eyes. Now and then
a little girl, simply dressed with a short frock, and long black hair
plaited down and uncovered, would trip along, a very model of grace amongst
the small caricatures. The children here are generally beautiful, their
features only too perfect and regular for the face "to fulfil the promise
of its spring." They have little colour, with swimming black or hazel eyes,
and long lashes resting on the clear pale cheek, and a perfect mass of fine
dark hair of the straight Spanish or Indian kind plaited down behind.
[Footnote 1: A drink made of the seed of the plant of that name.]
As a contrast to the Señoras, with their over-dressed beauties, were the
poor Indian women, trotting across the square, their black hair plaited
with dirty red ribbon, a piece of woollen cloth wrapped about them, and a
little mahogany baby hanging behind, its face upturned to the sky, and its
head going jerking along, somehow without its neck being dislocated. The
most resigned expression on earth is that of an Indian baby. All the groups
we had seen promenading the streets the day before were here collected by
hundreds; the women of the shopkeeper class, or it may be lower, in their
smart white embroidered gowns, with their white satin shoes, and neat feet
and ankles, and rebosos or bright shawls thrown over their heads; the
peasants and countrywomen, with their short petticoats of two colours,
generally scarlet and yellow (for they are most anti-quakerish in their
attire), thin satin shoes and lace-trimmed chemises, or bronze-coloured
damsels, all crowned with flowers, strolling along with their admirers, and
tingling their light guitars. And above all, here and there a flashing
Poblana, with a dress of real value and much taste, and often with a face
and figure of extraordinary beauty, especially the figure; large and yet
_élancée_, with a bold coquettish eye, and a beautiful little brown foot,
shown off by the white satin shoe; the petticoat of her dress frequently
fringed and embroidered in real massive gold, and a reboso either shot with
gold, or a bright-coloured China crape shawl, coquettishly thrown over her
head. We saw several whose dresses could not have cost less than five
hundred dollars.
Add to this motley crowd, men dressed _à la Mexicaine_, with their large
ornamented hats and serapes, or embroidered jackets, sauntering along,
smoking their cigars, _léperos_ in rags, Indians in blankets, officers in
uniform, priests in their shovel hats, monks of every order; Frenchmen
exercising their wit upon the passers-by; Englishmen looking cold and
philosophical; Germans gazing through their spectacles, mild and mystical;
Spaniards seeming pretty much at home, and abstaining from remarks; and it
may be conceived that the scene at least presented variety. Sometimes the
tinkling of the bell announced the approach of _Nuestro Amo_. Instantly the
whole crowd are on their knees, crossing themselves devoutly. Two men who
were fighting below the window suddenly dropped down side by side. Disputes
were hushed, flirtations arrested, and to the busy hum of voices succeeded
a profound silence. Only the rolling of the coach-wheels and the sound of
the little bell were heard.
No sooner had it passed than the talkers and the criers recommenced with
fresh vigour. The venders of hot chestnuts and cooling beverages plied
their trade more briskly than ever. A military band struck up an air from
Semiramis: and the noise of the innumerable _matracas_ (rattles), some of
wood and some of silver, with which every one is armed during the last days
of the holy week, broke forth again as if by magic, while again commenced
the sale of the _Judases_, fireworks in the form of that arch-traitor,
which are sold on the evening of Good Friday, and let off on Saturday
morning. Hundreds of these hideous figures were held above the crowd, by
men who carried them tied together on long poles. An ugly misshapen monster
they represent the betrayer to have been. When he sold his master for
thirty pieces of silver, did he dream that in the lapse of ages his
effigies should be held up to the execration of a Mexican mob, of an
unknown people in undiscovered countries beyond the seas?--A secret
bargain, perhaps made whisperingly in a darkened chamber with the fierce
Jewish rulers; but now shouted forth in the ears of the descendants of
Montezuma and Cortes!
But the sound of a distant hymn rose on the air, and shortly after there
appeared, advancing towards the square, a long and pompous retinue of
mitred priests, with banners and crucifixes and gorgeous imagery,
conducting a procession in which figures representing scenes concerning the
death of our Saviour, were carried by on platforms, as they were the
preceding evening. There was the Virgin in mourning at the foot of the
cross--the Virgin in glory--and more saints and more angels--St. Michael
and the dragon, etc., etc., a glittering and innumerable train. Not a sound
was heard as the figures were carried slowly onwards in their splendid
robes, lighted by thousands of tapers, which mingled their unnatural glare
with the fading light of day.
As the _Miserere_ was to be performed in the cathedral late in the evening,
we went there, though with small hopes of making our way through the
tremendous crowd. Having at length been admitted through a private
entrance, _per favour_, we made our way into the body of the church; but
the crowd was so intolerable, that we thought of abandoning our position,
when we were seen and recognised by some of the priests, and conducted to a
railed-off enclosure near the shrine of the Virgin, with the luxury of a
Turkey carpet. Here, separated from the crowd, we sat down in peace on the
ground. The gentlemen were accommodated with high-backed chairs, beside
some ecclesiastics; for men may sit on chairs or benches in church, but
women must kneel or sit on the ground. Why? "_Quien sabe?_" (Who knows?) is
all the satisfaction I have ever obtained on that point.
A Lonely Walk
The _music_ began with a crash that wakened me out of an agreeable slumber
into which I had gradually fallen; and such discordance of instruments and
voices, such confusion worse confounded, such inharmonious harmony, never
before deafened mortal ears. The very spheres seemed out of tune, and
rolling and crashing over each other. I could have cried _Miserere!_ with
the loudest; and in the midst of all the undrilled band was a
_music-master,_ with violin-stick uplifted, rushing desperately from one to
the other, in vain endeavouring to keep time, and frightened at the clamour
he himself had been instrumental in raising, like Phaeton intrusted with
his unmanageable coursers. The noise was so great as to be really alarming;
and the heat was severe in proportion. The calm face of the Virgin seemed
to look reproachfully down. We were thankful when, at the conclusion of
this stormy appeal for mercy, we were able to make our way into the fresh
air and soft moonlight, through the confusion and squeezing at the doors,
where it was rumoured that a soldier had killed a baby with his bayonet. A
bad place for poor little babies--decidedly.
Outside, in the square, it was cool and agreeable. A military band was
playing airs from Norma, and the womankind were sitting on the stones of
the railing, or wandering about and finishing their day's work by a quiet
flirtation _au clair de la lune_.
It was now eleven o'clock, and the pulquerias were thrown open for the
refreshment of the faithful, and though hitherto much order had prevailed,
it was not likely to endure much longer; notwithstanding which, we had the
imprudence to walk unattended to our own house, at San Fernando. In the
centre of the city there seemed no danger. People were still walking, and a
few still drinking at the lighted booths; but when arrived at the lower
part of the Alameda, all was still, and as we walked outside, under the
long shadows of the trees, I expected every moment to be attacked, and
wished we were anywhere, even on the silvery top of Popocatepetl! We passed
several crowded pulquerias, where some were drinking and others drunk.
Arrived at the arches, we saw from time to time a suspicious blanketed
figure half hid by the shadow of the wall. A few doors from our own
domicile was a pulque-shop filled with léperos, of whom some were standing
at the door, shrouded in their blankets. It seemed to me we should never
pass them, but we walked fast, and reached our door in safety. Here we
thundered in vain. The porter was asleep, and for nearly ten minutes we
heard voices within, male and female, ineffectually endeavouring to
persuade the heavy-headed Cerberus to relinquish his keys. It would have
been a choice moment for our friends, had any of them wished to accost us;
but either they had not observed us, or perhaps they thought that C---n
walking so late must have been armed; or perhaps, more charitable
construction, they had profited by the solemnities of the day.
We got in at last, and I felt thankful enough for shelter and safety, and
as wearied of the day's performances as you may be in reading a description
of them.
Next morning, Sábado de Gloria, I could not persuade myself to go as far as
the Plaza, to see the Iscariots explode. At a distance we listened to the
hissing and crackling of the fireworks, the ringing of all the bells, and
the thundering of artillery; and knew by the hum of busy voices, and the
rolling of carriages, that the Holy Week was numbered with the past....
We hear that it is in contemplation amongst the English here, headed by
their Minister, to give a ball in the Mineria, to celebrate the Marriage of
Queen Victoria, which will be turning these splendid halls to some account.
I have some intention of giving a series of weekly soirées, but am assured
that they will not succeed, because hitherto such parties have failed. As a
reason, is given the extravagant notions of the ladies in point of dress,
and it is said that nothing but a ball where they can wear jewels, and a
toilet therewith consistent, will please them; that a lady of high rank who
had been in Madrid, having proposed simple tertulias and white muslin
dresses, half the men in Mexico were ruined that year by the embroidered
French and India muslins bought by their wives during this reign of
simplicity; the idea of a plain white muslin, a dress worn by any _lepera_,
never having struck them as possible. Nevertheless we can but make the
attempt.
We propose going next week to Tulansingo, where our friends the ----- have
a country place, from thence we proceed to visit the mines of Real del
Monte.
23rd.--On Monday we gave a Tertulia, which, notwithstanding all
predictions, went off remarkably well, and consisted of nearly all the
pleasantest people in Mexico. We had music, dancing, and cards, and at
three in the morning the German cotillon was still in full vigour. Every
one was disposed to be amused, and, moreover, the young ladies were dressed
very simply; most of them in plain white muslins. There was but a small
sprinkling of diamonds, and that chiefly among the elderly part of the
community. Still it is said that the novelty alone induced them to come,
and that weekly soirées will not succeed. We shall try. Besides which, the
Lady of the ----- Minister proposes being At Home on Wednesday evenings;
the Lady of the ----- Minister takes another evening; I, a third, and we
shall see what can be effected.
LETTER THE FIFTEENTH
Letter from the Archbishop-Visit to the
"Encarnacian"--Reception--Description--The
Novices--Convent-supper--Picturesque Scene--Sonata on the Organ--Attempt at
Robbery--Alarms of the Household--Visit to San Agustin--Anonymous
Letter--The Virgin de los Remedios--Visit to the Chapel--The Padre--The
Image--Anecdote of the large Pearl-A Mine.
24th.
The Archbishop has not only granted me permission to visit the convents,
but permits me to take two ladies along with me, of which I have been
informed by the Minister, Señor C---o, in a very amiable note just
received, enclosing one from Señor Posada, which I translate for your
edification.
To His Excellency, Señor Don J. de D. C---o.
April 24th, 1842.
My dear Friend and Companion:
The Abbess and Nuns of the Convent of the Encarnación are now prepared to
receive the visit of our three pilgrims, next Sunday, at half-past four in
the afternoon, and should that day not suit them, let them mention what day
will be convenient.
Afterwards we shall arrange their visit to the Concepción, Ensenanza
Antigua, and Jesús María, which are the best, and I shall let you know, and
we shall agree upon the days and hours most suitable. I remain your
affectionate friend and Capellan,
MANUEL POSADA.
Accordingly, on Sunday afternoon, we drove to the _Encarnación_, the most
splendid and richest convent in Mexico, excepting perhaps la Concepción. If
it were in any other country, I might mention the surpassing beauty of the
evening, but as except in the rainy season, which has not yet begun, the
evenings are always beautiful, the weather leaves no room for description.
The sky always blue, the air always soft, the flowers always blossoming,
the birds always singing; Thomson never could have written his "Seasons"
here. We descended at the convent gate, were admitted by the portress, and
received by several nuns, their faces closely covered with a double crape
veil. We were then led into a spacious hall, hung with handsome lustres,
and adorned with various Virgins and Saints magnificently dressed; and here
the eldest, a very dignified old lady, lifted her veil, the others
following her example, and introduced herself as the _Madre Vicaria_;
bringing us many excuses from the old abbess, who having an inflammation in
her eyes, was confined to her cell. She and another reverend mother, and a
group of elderly dames, tall, thin, and stately, then proceeded to inform
us, that the archbishop had, in person, given orders for our reception, and
that they were prepared to show us the whole establishment.
The dress is a long robe of very fine white casimere, a thick black crape
veil, and long rosary. The dress of the novices is the same, only that the
veil is white. For the first half-hour or so, I fancied, that along with
their politeness, was mingled a good deal of restraint, caused perhaps by
the presence of a foreigner, and especially of an Englishwoman. My
companions they knew well; the Señorita having even passed some months
there. However this may have been, the feeling seemed gradually to wear
away. Kindness or curiosity triumphed; their questions became unceasing;
and before the visit was concluded, I was addressed as "_mi vida_" (my
life), by the whole establishment. Where was I born? Where had I lived?
What convents had I seen? Which did I prefer, the convents in France, or
those in Mexico? Which were largest? Which had the best garden? etc., etc.
Fortunately, I could, with truth, give the preference to their convent, as
to spaciousness and magnificence, over any I ever saw.
The Mexican style of building is peculiarly advantageous for recluses; the
great galleries and courts affording them a constant supply of fresh air,
while the fountains sound so cheerfully, and the garden in this climate of
perpetual spring affords them such a constant source of enjoyment all the
year round, that one pities their secluded state much less here than in any
other country.
This convent is in fact a palace. The garden, into which they led us first,
is kept in good order, with its stone walks, stone benches, and an ever-
playing and sparkling fountain. The trees were bending with fruit, and they
pulled quantities of the most beautiful flowers for us; sweet-peas and
roses, with which all gardens here abound, carnations, jasmine, and
heliotrope. It was a pretty picture to see them wandering about, or
standing in groups in this high-walled garden, while the sun was setting
behind the hills, and the noise of the city was completely excluded,
everything breathing repose and contentment. Most of the halls in the
convent are noble rooms. We visited the whole, from the refectory to the
_botica_, and admired the extreme cleanness of everything, especially of
the immense kitchen, which seems hallowed from the approach even of a
particle of dust; this circumstance is partly accounted for by the fact
that each nun has a servant, and some have two; for this is not one of the
strictest orders. The convent is rich; each novice at her entrance pays
five thousand dollars into the common stock. There are about thirty nuns
and ten novices.
The prevailing sin in a convent generally seems to be pride;
"The pride that apes humility;"
and it is perhaps nearly inseparable from the conventual state. Set apart
from the rest of the world, they, from their little world, are too apt to
look down with contempt which may be mingled with envy, or modified by
pity, but must be unsuited to a true Christian spirit.
The novices were presented to us--poor little entrapped things! who really
believe they will be let out at the end of the year if they should grow
tired, as if they would ever be permitted to grow tired! The two eldest and
most reverend ladies are sisters, thin, tall, and stately, with high noses,
and remains of beauty. They have been in the convent since they were eight
years old (which is remarkable, as sisters are rarely allowed to profess in
the same establishment), and consider _La Encarnación_ as a small piece of
heaven upon earth. There were some handsome faces amongst them, and one
whose expression and eyes were singularly lovely, but truth to say, these
were rather exceptions to the general rule.
Having visited the whole building, and admired one virgin's blue satin and
pearls, and another's black velvet and diamonds, sleeping holy infants,
saints, paintings, shrines, and confessionals,--having even climbed up the
Azotea, which commands a magnificent view, we came at length to a large
hall, decorated with paintings and furnished with antique high-backed
arm-chairs, where a very elegant supper, lighted up and ornamented, greeted
our astonished eyes; cakes, chocolate, ices, creams, custards, tarts,
jellies, blancmangers, orange and lemonade, and other profane dainties,
ornamented with gilt paper cut into little flags, etc. I was placed in a
chair that might have served for a pope under a holy family; the
Señora ----- and the Señorita ----- on either side. The elder nuns in
stately array, occupied the other arm-chairs, and looked like statues
carved in stone. A young girl, a sort of pensionnaire, brought in a little
harp without pedals, and while we discussed cakes and ices, sung different
ballads with a good deal of taste. The elder nuns helped us to everything,
but tasted nothing themselves. The younger nuns and the novices were
grouped upon a mat a la Turque, and a more picturesque scene altogether one
could scarcely see.
The young novices in their white robes, white veils, and black eyes, the
severe and dignified madres with their long dresses and mournful-looking
black veils and rosaries, the veiled figures occasionally flitting along
the corridor;--ourselves in contrast, with our worldly dresses and coloured
ribbons; and the great hall lighted by one immense lamp that hung from the
ceiling--I felt transported three centuries back, and half afraid that the
whole would flit away, and prove a mere vision, a waking dream.
A gossiping old nun, who hospitably filled my plate with everything, gave
me the enclosed flag cut in gilt paper, which, together with her custards
and jellies, looked less unreal. They asked many questions in regard to
Spanish affairs, and were not to be consoled for the defeat of Don Carlos,
which they feared would be an end of the true religion in Spain.
Attempt at Robbery
After supper we proceeded upstairs to the choir (where the nuns attend
public worship, and which looks down upon the handsome convent church) to
try the organ. I was set down to a Sonata of Mozart's, the servants blowing
the bellows. It seems to me that I made more noise than music, for the
organ is very old, perhaps as old as the convent, which dates three
centuries back. However, the nuns were pleased, and after they had sung a
hymn, we returned below. I was rather sorry to leave them, and I felt as if
I could have passed some time there very contentedly; but it was near nine
o'clock, and we were obliged to take our departure; so having been embraced
very cordially by the whole community, we left the hospitable walls of the
Encarnación.
28th.--Last evening we were sitting at home very quietly about ten o'clock,
C---n, Monsieur de -----, of the ----- Legation, and I, when A---- rushed
into the room all dishevelled. "Come quickly, sir! Robbers are breaking
open the kitchen-door!" A succession of feminine shrieks in the distance,
added effect to her words. C---n jumped up, ran for his pistols, gave one
to Monsieur de -----, called up the soldiers, but no robbers appeared. The
kitchen-door was indeed open, and the trembling galopina attested, that
being in the kitchen alone, dimly lighted by one small lamp, three men, all
armed, had entered, and had rushed out again on hearing her give the alarm.
We somewhat doubted her assertions, but the next morning found that the men
had in fact escaped by the Azotea, a great assistance to all Mexican
depredators. At the end of this row of houses the people ran out and fired
upon them, but without effect. The house of the old Countess of S---- F----
had been broken into, her porter wounded, report says killed, and her plate
carried off. In the mean time our soldiers watch in the kitchen, a pair of
loaded pistols adorn the table, a double-barrelled gun stands in the
corner, and a bull-dog growls in the gallery. This little passing visit to
us was probably caused by the arrival of some large boxes from London,
especially of a very fine harp and piano, both _Erard's_, which I had the
pleasure of seeing unpacked this morning, and which, in spite of jolting
and bad roads, have arrived in perfect condition....
Thus far I had written, it being now the evening, and I sitting alone, when
a succession of shrieks arose, even more awful than those which alarmed us
last night. At the same time the old _galopina,_ her daughter, and a French
girl who lives here, rushed shouting along the gallery; not a word they
said comprehensible, but something concerning "a robber in black, with men
at his back, who had burst open the door." At the noise the whole household
had assembled. One ran this way, one ran that. A little French
_teinturier,_ who it appeared had been paying the maids a polite visit,
seized the loaded gun; the footman took a pistol and hid himself behind the
porter; A----, like a second Joan of Arc, appeared, with a rusty sabre; the
soldiers rushed up with their bayonets; the coachman stood aloof with
nothing; the porter led up the rear, holding a large dog by the collar; but
no robber appears; and the girls are all sobbing and crying because we
doubt their having seen one. Galopina the younger shedding tears in
torrents, swears to the man. Galopina the elder, enveloped in her reboso,
swears to any number of men; and the _recamerera_ has cried herself into a
fit between fear and indignation.
Such is the agreeable state of things about nine o'clock this evening, for
one real attempt to enter the house, invariably gives rise to a thousand
imaginary attacks and fanciful alarms....
After many attempts at walking, I have very nearly abandoned it, but take a
great deal of exercise both on horseback and in the carriage; which last,
on account of the ill-paved condition of the streets, affords rather more
exercise than the former. I drove out this morning in an open carriage with
the Señorita E---- to her country-house at San Agustin, the gambling
emporium. But the famous annual fête does not take place till Whitsunday,
and the pretty country villas there are at present abandoned. We walked in
the garden till the sun became insupportable. The fragrance of the roses
and jasmine was almost overpowering. There are trees of millefleur roses;
heliotrope and honeysuckle cover every pillar, and yellow jasmine trails
over everything....
Found on my return an anonymous letter, begging me to "beware of my cook!"
and signed _Fernandez_. Having shown it to some gentlemen who dined here,
one thought it might be a plan of the robbers to get rid of the cook, whom
they considered in their way; another, with more probability, that it was
merely a plan of the attentive Señor Fernandez to get the cook's place for
himself.
We went lately to pay a visit to the celebrated Virgen de los Remedies, the
_Gachupina_, the Spanish patroness, and rival of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
This Virgin was brought over by Cortes, and when he displaced the Indian
idols in the great Temple of Mexico, caused them to be broken in pieces,
and the sanctuary to be purified, he solemnly placed there a crucifix and
this image of the Virgin; then kneeling before it, gave solemn thanks to
Heaven, which had permitted him thus to adore the Most High in a place so
long profaned by the most cruel idolatries.
It is said that this image was brought to Mexico by a soldier of Cortes's
army called Villafuerte, and that the day succeeding the terrible _Noche
Triste_, it was concealed by him in the place where it was afterwards
discovered. At all events, the image disappeared, and nothing further was
known of it until, on the top of a barren and treeless mountain, in the
heart of a large maguey, she was found by a fortunate Indian. Her
restoration was joyfully hailed by the Spaniards. A church was erected on
the spot. A priest was appointed to take charge of the miraculous image.
Her fame spread abroad. Gifts of immense value were brought to her shrine.
A treasurer was appointed to take care of her jewels; a camarista to
superintend her rich wardrobe. No rich dowager died in peace until she had
bequeathed to Our Lady of Los Remedios her largest diamond, or her richest
pearl. In seasons of drought she is brought in from her dwelling in the
mountain, and carried in procession through the streets. The viceroy
himself on foot used to lead the holy train. One of the highest rank drives
the chariot in which she is seated. In succession she visits the principal
convents, and as she is carried through the cloistered precincts, the nuns
are ranged on their knees in humble adoration. Plentiful rains immediately
follow her arrival. -----, who accompanied us, has on several occasions
filled the office of her coachman, by which means he has seen the interior
of most of the convents in Mexico. It is true that there came a time when
the famous curate Hidalgo, the prime mover of the Revolution, having taken
as his standard an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, a rivalry arose
between her and the Spanish Virgin; and Hidalgo having been defeated and
forced to fly, the image of the Virgen de los Remedios was conducted to
Mexico dressed as a general, and invoked as the patroness of Spain. Later
still, the Virgin herself was denounced as a Gachupina! her general's sash
boldly torn from her by the valiant General -----, who also signed her
passport, with an order for her to leave the republic. However, she was
again restored to her honours, and still retains her treasurers, her
camarista, and sanctum sanctorum.
Being desirous of seeing this celebrated image, we set off one fine
afternoon in a carriage of -----'s, drawn by six unbroken horses,
accompanied by him and his lady, and performed four leagues of bad road in
an incredibly short space of time. The horses themselves were in an evident
state of astonishment, for after kicking and plunging, and, as they
imagined, running away, they found themselves driven much faster than they
had the slightest intention of going: so after a little while they
acknowledged, in -----'s capital coachman, _une main de maître_.
The mountain is barren and lonely, but the view from its summit is
beautiful, commanding the whole plain. The church is old and not very
remarkable, yet a picturesque object, as it stands in its gay solitariness,
with one or two trees beside it, of which one without leaves was entirely
covered with the most brilliant scarlet flowers. Señor ----- having been the
Virgin's coachman, the Señora ----- being the daughter of her camarista,
and C---n the Minister from the land of her predilection, we were not
astonished at the distinguished reception which we met with from the
reverend padre, the guardian of the mountain. The church within is
handsome; and above the altar is a copy of the original Virgin. After we
had remained there a little while, we were admitted into the Sanctum, where
the identical Virgin of Cortes, with a large silver maguey, occupies her
splendid shrine. The priest retired and put on his robes, and then
returning, and all kneeling before the altar, he recited the _credo_. This
over, he mounted the steps, and opening the shrine where the Virgin was
encased, knelt down and removed her in his arms. He then presented her to
each of us in succession, every one kissing the hem of her satin robe. She
was afterwards replaced with the same ceremony.
The image is a wooden doll about a foot high, holding in its arms an infant
Jesús, both faces evidently carved with a rude penknife; two holes for the
eyes and another for the mouth. This doll was dressed in blue satin and
pearls with a crown upon her head and a quantity of hair fastened on to the
crown. No Indian idol could be much uglier. As she has been a good deal
scratched and destroyed in the lapse of ages, C---n observed that he was
astonished they had not tried to restore her a little. To this the padre
replied, that the attempt had been made by several artists, each one of
whom had sickened and died. He also mentioned as one of her miracles, that
living on a solitary mountain she had never been robbed; but I fear the
good padre is somewhat _oblivious_, as this sacrilege has happened more
than once. On one occasion a crowd of léperos being collected, and the
image carried round to be kissed, one of them, affecting intense devotion,
bit off the large pearl that adorned her dress in front, and before the
theft was discovered, he had mingled with the crowd and escaped. When
reminded of the circumstance, the padre said it was true, but that the
thief was a _Frenchman_. After taking leave of the Virgin, we visited the
padre in his own old house, attached to the church, where his only
attendant, as usual among padres, is an old woman.
We then made our way on foot down a steep hill, stopping to admire some
noble stone arches, the remains of an aqueduct built by the Spaniards for
conveying water from one mountain to the other; and with an Indian for our
guide, visited a newly-discovered, though anciently-opened mine, said to be
of silver, and which had until lately been covered with rubbish. We groped
through it, and found vaults and excavations and a deep pit of water. C---n
got some Indians to break off pieces of stone for him, which were put into
a sack and sent home for examination. We were so tired of our walk down
this steep and mountainous path, that on our return, I mounted a horse with
a man's saddle, belonging to one of the servants, and contrived to keep on,
while it climbed up the perpendicular ascent. As this seemed rather a
selfish proceeding while the others walked, I invited the Señora ----- to
mount also in front; which she did, and the path being almost
perpendicular, my head nearly touched the ground, which certainly made the
seat not over safe or easy. However, we reached the top of the mountain in
safety, though somewhat exhausted with laughing, and were driven home with
the speed of a rail-car.
LETTER THE SIXTEENTH
Mexico in May--Leave Mexico for Santiago--Coach of Charles X--Mexican
Travelling--General Aspect of the Country--Village of Santa Clara--
Robbers' House--Temples of the Sun and Moon--San Juan--Mexican Posada--
School-house--Skulls--Hard Fare--Travelling Dress--Sopayuca--Military
Administrador--Santiago--Matadors and Picadors--Evenings in the Country-
Dances--Mexican Songs--Cempoala--Plaza de Toros--Skill of the Horsemen--
Omatusco--Accident--Tulansingo--Beautiful Garden--Mexican Dishes--Fruits--
Horses--Games of Forfeits--Ranchera's Dress--Young Girls and their
Admirers--Verses--Knowledge of Simple Medicine--Indian Baths--Hidden
Treasures--Anecdote.
SANTIAGO, May 6th.
Before the setting in of the rainy season, we accepted of the invitation of
our friends the -----s, to visit the different haciendas, as in a short
time the roads will become nearly impassable. The country in May is perhaps
at its highest beauty, or even a little earlier, as already the great blow
of roses is nearly over; _au reste_ there are roses all the year round,
though more in December than in July. And this, by the way, is rather a
source of disappointment to the unwary traveller. He arrives in December,
and finds the gardens full of flowers. "If this be the case in December,"
says he to himself, "what will it be in May?" May comes--the roses are
over, and the chief flowers in the gardens are dahlias and marigolds, our
autumnal flowers--September, and these autumnal flowers still bloom, and
with them you have mignonette and roses, and then pinks and jasmine, and
other flowers. In fact there seems to be no particular season for anything.
The weather at present is neither warm nor cold, but colder here than in
Mexico, and when it does not rain it is lovely. Already there has been much
rain, and the torrents are so swelled, that there was some doubt as to
whether our carriages could pass them.
Yesterday, at five in the morning we left Mexico, in a coach once the
property of Charles X. "Sic transit," etc.; and a most luxurious
travelling-carriage is that of his ex-majesty, entirely covered with
gilding, save where the lilies of France surmount the crown, (sad emblems
of the fallen dynasty!) lined with white satin with violet-coloured
binding, the satin cushions most excellently stuffed: large, commodious,
and with a movement as soft as that of a gondola.
A Frenchman bought it on a speculation, and brought it here for sale. In
former days, from its gilded and showy appearance, it would have brought
any price; but the taste for gaudy equipages has gone by since the
introduction of foreign, and especially of English carriages; and the
present proprietor, who bought it for its intrinsic good qualities, paid
but a moderate sum for it. In this carriage, drawn by six strong horses,
with two first-rate coachmen and several outriders well-armed, we went
along at great speed. The drivers, dressed Mexican fashion, with all their
accoutrements smart and new, looked very picturesque. Jackets and trousers
of deerskin, and jackets embroidered in green, with hanging silver buttons,
the trousers also embroidered and slit up the side of the leg, trimmed with
silver buttons, and showing an under pair of unbleached linen; these, with
the postilions' boots, and great hats with gold rolls, form a dress which
would _faire fureur_, if some adventurous Mexican would venture to display
it on the streets of London.
We left the city by the gate of Guadalupe, and passed by the great
cathedral, our road lying over the marshy plains once covered by the waters
of Lake Tezcuco.
To the east lay the great lake, its broad waters shining like a sheet of
molten silver, and the two great volcanoes: the rising sun forming a crown
of rays on the white brow of Popocatepetl.
To describe once for all the general aspect of the country on this side of
the valley of Mexico, suffice it to say, that there is a universal air of
dreariness, vastiness, and desolation. The country is flat, but always
enlivened by the surrounding mountains, like an uninteresting painting in a
diamond frame; and yet it is not wholly uninteresting. It has a character
peculiar to itself, great plains of maguey, with its huts with uncultivated
patches, that have once been gardens, still filled with flowers and choked
with weeds; the huts themselves, generally of mud, yet not unfrequently of
solid stone, roofless and windowless, with traces of having been fine
buildings in former days; the complete solitude, unbroken except by the
passing Indian, certainly as much in a state of savage nature as the lower
class of Mexicans were when Cortes first traversed these plains--with the
same character, gentle and cowardly, false and cunning, as weak animals are
apt to be by nature, and indolent and improvident as men are in a fine
climate; ruins everywhere--here a viceroy's country palace serving as a
tavern, where the mules stop to rest, and the drivers to drink pulque--
there, a whole village crumbling to pieces; roofless houses, broken down
walls and arches, an old church--the remains of a convent.... For leagues
scarcely a tree to be seen; then a clump of the graceful Arbol de Peru, or
one great cypress--long strings of mules and asses, with their drivers--
pasture-fields with cattle--then again whole tracts of maguey, as far as
the eye can reach; no roads worthy of the name, but a passage made between
fields of maguey, bordered by crumbling-down low stone walls, causing a
jolting from which not even the easy movement of Charles X's coach can save
us. But the horses go at full gallop, accustomed to go through and over
everything.
The first village we saw was Santa Clara, to our left, lying at the foot of
some dark hills, with its white church and flat-roofed or no-roofed houses.
There being no shade, frequently not a tree for leagues, the sun and dust
very disagreeable, and became more so as the day advanced. Here it came to
pass, that, travelling rapidly over the hot and dusty plains, the wheels of
our carriage began to smoke. No house was in sight--no water within ken. It
was a case of difficulty; when suddenly ----- recollected that not far from
thence was an old rancho, a deserted farmhouse at present occupied by
robbers; and having ordered the coachman to drive to within a few hundred
yards of this house, he sent a servant on horse- back with a _medio_
(fourpence) to bring some water, which was treating the robbers like
honourable men. The man galloped off, and shortly returned with a can full
of water, which he carried back when the fire was extinguished.
Meanwhile we examined, as well as we could, the external appearance of the
robbers' domicile, which was an old half-ruined house, standing alone on
the plain, with no tree near it. Several men, with guns, were walking up
and down before the house--sporting-looking characters, but rather
dirty--apparently either waiting for some expected _game_, or going in
search of it. Women with rebosos, were carrying water, and walking amongst
them. There were also a number of dogs. The well-armed men who accompanied
us, and the name of -----, so well known in these parts, that once when his
carriage was surrounded by robbers, he merely mentioned who he was, and
they retreated with many apologies for their mistake, precluded all danger
of an attack; but woe to the solitary horseman or the escorted carriage
that should pass thereby! Nor, indeed, are they always in the same mood,
for Señor -----'s houses have been frequently attacked in his absence, and
his hacienda at Santiago once stood a regular siege, the robbers being at
length repulsed by the bravery of his servants.
We set off again _au grand galop_, drivers and outriders giving, from time
to time, the most extraordinary shrieks to encourage the horses and to
amuse themselves, wild and shrill enough to frighten any civilized
quadruped. The road grew more picturesque as we advanced, and at length our
attention was arrested by the sight of the two great pyramids, which rise
to the east of the town of San Juan Teotihuacan, which are mentioned by
Humboldt, and have excited the curiosity and attention of every succeeding
traveller. The huge masses were consecrated to the sun and moon, which, in
the time of Cortes, were there represented by two vast stone idols, covered
with gold. The conquerors made use of the gold, and broke the idols in
pieces, by order of the first bishop of Mexico. Unfortunately, our time was
too limited to give them more than a passing observation. Fragments of
obsidian, in the form of knives and of arrows, with which the priests
opened the breasts of their human victims, are still to be found there; and
numerous small idols, made of baked clay, are to be seen both there and in
the plains adjoining. The Indians rather dislike to guide travellers to
these pyramids, and their reluctance to do so has increased the popular
belief of the existence of great concealed treasures near or in them.
The whole plain on which these great pyramids stand was formerly called
Micoatl, or the Pathway of the Dead; and the hundreds of smaller pyramids
which surround the larger ones (the Temples of the Sun and Moon) are
symmetrically disposed in wide streets, forming a great burial-plain,
composed perhaps of the dust of their ancient warriors, an Aztec or Toltec
Pere-la-Chaise, or rather a roofless Westminster Abbey. So few of the
ancient _teocallis_ now remain, and these being nearly the only traces now
existing of that extraordinary race, we regretted the more not being able
to devote some time to their examination. Fanaticism and policy induced the
Spanish conquerors to destroy these heathen temples; and when we recollect
that at the time of the Reformation in civilized England, the most splendid
Catholic edifices were made level with the ground, in compliance with the
ferocious edict of John Knox, "Ding down the nests, and the rooks will fly
off," we can have little wonder or blame to bestow upon Cortes, who, in the
excitement of the siege, gave orders for the destruction of these blood-
stained sanctuaries. In the afternoon we arrived at San Juan, a pretty
village, boasting of an inn, a school-house, an avenue of fine trees, and a
stream of clear water. It is true that the inn is a Mexican posada, bearing
as much resemblance to what is generally called an inn, as an hacienda does
to an English country-house; the school-house, a room with a mud floor and
a few dirty benches, occupied by little ragged boys and girls; but the
avenue is pretty, the grass as green as emeralds, and the water crystal. We
walked out while they changed horses, of which Señor ----- had fresh relays
of his own prepared all along the road; and entered the school-house,
attracted by the noise and the invitingly open door. The master was a poor,
ragged, pale, careworn looking young man, seemingly half-dinned with the
noise, but very earnest in his work. The children, all speaking at once,
were learning to spell out of some old bills of Congress. Several moral
sentences were written on the wall in very independent orthography. C---n
having remarked to the master that they were ill-spelt, he seemed very much
astonished, and even inclined to doubt the fact. I thought it was one of
those cases where ignorance is bliss, and fear the observation may have
cost the young man a night's rest.
A row of grinning skulls was ranged round the wall of the churchyard, and
the sexton, who gave us admittance to the church, taking up one to show it
off, it all crumbled into dust, which filled the air like a cloud.
At the posada they gave us rancid sheep's milk, cheese, and biscuits so
hard, that C---n asked the host if they were made in the same year with the
church; at which he seemed mightily pleased, and could not stop laughing
till we got into the carriage.
Soon after leaving San Juan we were met by the Señora de -----, in an open
carriage, coming with her children to meet us; and though she had travelled
since sunrise from her hacienda, she appeared as if freshly dressed for an
evening party; her dress, amber-coloured crape, trimmed with white blonde,
short sleeves and _decolletee_; a set of beautiful Neapolitan strawberry-
coral, set in gold, straw-coloured satin shoes, and a little China crape
shawl, embroidered in bright flowers; her hair dressed and uncovered.
We stopped at their hacienda of Sopayuca, an old house, standing solitary
in the midst of great fields of maguey. It has a small deserted garden
adjoining, amongst whose tangled bushes a pretty little tame deer was
playing, with its half-startled look and full wild eye. We found an
excellent breakfast prepared, and here, for the first time, I conceived the
possibility of not disliking _pulque_. We visited the large buildings where
it is kept, and found it rather refreshing, with a sweet taste and a creamy
froth upon it, and with a much less decided odour than that which is sold
in Mexico.
This hacienda is under the charge of an administrador, to whom ----- pays a
large annual sum, and whose place is by no means a sinecure, as he lives in
perpetual danger from robbers. He is captain of a troop of soldiers, and as
his life has been spent in "persecuting robbers," he is an object of
intense hatred to that free and independent body, and has some thoughts of
removing to another part of the country, where he may be more tranquil. He
gave us a terrible account of these night attacks, of the ineffectual
protection afforded him by the government, and of the nearly insuperable
difficulties thrown in the way of any attempt to bring these men to
justice. He lately told the president that he had some thoughts of joining
the robbers himself, as they were the only persons in the republic
protected by the government. The president, however, is not to blame in
this matter. He has used every endeavour to check these abuses; and
difficulties have been thrown in his way from very unexpected sources....
_A propos_ to which, the ----- consul told us the other day, that some time
ago, having occasion to consult Judge ----- upon an affair of importance,
he was shown into an apartment where that functionary was engaged with some
suspicious-looking individuals, or rather who were above suspicion, their
appearance plainly indicating their calling. On the table before him lay a
number of guns, swords, pistols, and all sorts of arms. The Judge requested
Monsieur de ----- to be seated, observing that he was investigating a case
of robbery committed by these persons. The robbers were seated, smoking
very much at their ease, and the Judge was enjoying the same innocent
recreation; when his cigar becoming extinguished, one of these gentlemen
taking his from his mouth, handed it to the magistrate, who relighted his
_puro_ (cigar) at it, and returned it with a polite bow. In short, they
were completely _hand in glove_.
In the evening we reached Santiago, where we now are, about eighteen
leagues from Mexico, a large house in a wild-looking country, standing in
solitary state, with hills behind, and rocks before it, and surrounded by
great uncultivated plains and pasture-fields. Everything is _en grande_ in
this domain. There is a handsome chapel and sacristy; a plaza de toros;
hundreds of horses and mules; and between _dependientes_ and hangers-on, we
sat down, thirty or forty people, to dinner.
7th.--The very day of our arrival, Bernardo the Matador, with his men,
arrived from Mexico, bringing their superb dresses with them, for the
purpose of giving us a country bull-fight. As an hacienda of this kind is
an immense empty house, without furniture or books, all the amusement is to
be found either out of doors, or in large parties in the house; and the
unostentatious hospitality which exists in this and some other of the old
families, is a pleasing remnant of Spanish manners and habits, now falling
into disuse, and succeeded by more pretension to refinement, and less of
either real wealth or sociability.
In the evening here, all assemble in a large hall; the Señora de -----
playing the piano; while the whole party, agents, dependientes,
major-domo, coachmen, matadors, picadors, and women-servants, assemble and
perform the dances of the country; _jarabes, aforrados, enanos, palomos,
zapateros,_ etc., etc. It must not be supposed that in this apparent
mingling of ranks between masters and servants, there is the slightest want
of respect on the part of the latter; on the contrary, they seem to exert
themselves, as in duty bound, for the amusement of their master and his
guests. There is nothing republican in it; no feeling of equality; as far
as I have seen, that feeling does not exist here, except between people of
the same rank. It is more like some remains of the feudal system, where the
retainers sat at the same table with their chief, but below the salt. The
dances are monotonous, with small steps and a great deal of shuffling, but
the music is rather pretty, and some of the dancers were very graceful and
agile; and if it were not invidious to make distinctions, we _might_
particularize Bernardo the Matador, the head coachman, and a handsome
peasant-girl, with a short scarlet and yellow petticoat, and a foot and
ankle _á la Vestris_. They were all very quiet, but seemed in a state of
intense enjoyment; and some of the men accompanied the dancers on the
guitar.
First the player strikes up in quick time, and the dancer performs a quick
movement; then the musician accompanies the music with his voice, and the
dancer goes through some slow steps. Such is the case in the _Aforrado_ or
_Lining_, a _curious nom de tendresse_, expressive, I suppose, of something
soft and well wadded. The words are as follow:
1.
Aforrado de mi vida!
Come estás, como te va?
Como has pasado la noche,
No has tenido novedad?
2.
Aforrado de mi vida!
Yo te quisiera cantar,
Pero mis ojos son tiernos,
Y empazaran á llorar.
3.
De Guadalajara vengo,
Lideando con un soldado,
Solo por venir a ver
A mi jarabe aforrado.
4.
Y vente conmigo,
Y yo te daré
Zapatos de raso
Color de café.
Of these poetical sublimities, a translation at once literal and metrical,
would, we think, damp the spirit of a Coleridge.
1.
Lining of my life!
How are you? how do you do?
How have you passed the night?
Have you met with nothing new?
2.
Lining of my life!
To you I should like to sing;
But that my eyes are weak,
And tears might begin to spring.
3.
From Guadalajara fighting,
With a soldier I came on,
My well-lined _sweet syrup_!
I came to see you alone.
4.
And come then with me,
And I will give thee
Such fine shoes of satin,
The colour of _tea_.
It is _coffee_, but you will excuse the poetical licence. The music married
to this "immortal verse," I have learned by ear, and shall send you. In the
"_enanos_" (the dwarfs) the dancer _makes himself little_, every time the
chorus is sung.
1.
Ah! que bonitos
Son los enanos,
Los chiquititos
Y Mejicanos.
2.
Sale la linda,
Sale la fea,
Sale el enano,
Con su zalea.
3.
Los enanitos
Se enojaron,
Porque a las enanas
Les pellizcaron.
There are many more verses, but I think you will find these quite
satisfactory, "Ah! how pretty are the dwarfs, the little ones, the
Mexicans! Out comes the pretty one, out comes the ugly one, out comes the
dwarf with his jacket of skin. The little he-dwarfs were angry, because
some one pinched the she-dwarfs." There is another called the _Toro_, of
which the words are not very interesting; and the _Zapatero_, or shoemaker,
was very well danced by a gentleman who accompanied himself, at the same
time, on the guitar.
Yesterday morning we set off in a burning sun, over a perfect Egyptian
desert, to visit the famous arches of Cempoala, a magnificent work, which
we are told had greatly excited the admiration of Mr. Poinsett when in this
country. This aqueduct, the object of whose construction was to supply
these arid plains with water, was the work of a Spanish Franciscan friar,
and has never been entirely concluded. We travelled about six leagues, and
sat there for hours, looking up at the great stone arches, which seem like
a work of giants.
In the afternoon we all rode to the Plaza de Toros. The evening was cool,
and our horses good, the road pretty and shady, and the plaza itself a most
picturesque enclosure, surrounded by lofty trees. Chairs were placed for us
on a raised platform; and the bright green of the trees, the flashing
dresses of the _toreadors_, the roaring of the fierce bulls, the spirited
horses, the music and the cries; the Indians shouting from the trees up
which they had climbed; all formed a scene of savage grandeur, which for a
short time at least is interesting. Bernardo was dressed in blue satin and
gold; the picadors in black and silver; the others in maroon-coloured satin
and gold; all those on foot wear knee-breeches and white silk stockings, a
little black cap with ribbons, and a plait of hair streaming down behind.
The horses were generally good, and as each new adversary appeared, seemed
to participate in the enthusiasm of their riders. One bull after another
was driven in roaring, and as here they are generally fierce, and their
horns not blunted as in Mexico, it is a much more dangerous affair. The
bulls were not killed, but were sufficiently tormented. One stuck full of
arrows and fireworks, all adorned with ribbons and coloured paper, made a
sudden spring over an immensely high wall, and dashed into the woods. I
thought afterwards of this unfortunate animal, how it must have been
wandering about all night, bellowing with pain, the concealed arrows
piercing its flesh, and looking like gay ornaments;
"So, when the watchful shepherd, from the blind,
Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind,
Distracted with her pain, she flies the woods,
Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods--
With fruitless care; for still the fatal dart
Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart."
If the arrows had stuck too deep, and that the bull could not rub them off
against the trees, he must have bled to death. Had he remained, his fate
would have been better, for when the animal is entirely exhausted they
throw him down with a laso, and pulling out the arrows put ointment on the
wounds.
The skill of the men is surprising; but the most curious part of the
exhibition was when a coachman of -----'s, a strong, handsome Mexican,
mounted on the back of a fierce bull, which plunged and flung himself about
as if possessed by a legion of demons, and forced the animal to gallop
round and round the arena. The bull is first caught by the laso, and thrown
on his side, struggling furiously. The man mounts while he is still on the
ground. At the same moment the laso is withdrawn, and the bull starts up,
maddened by feeling the weight of his unusual burden. The rider must
dismount in the same way, the bull being first thrown down, otherwise he
would be gored in a moment. It is terribly dangerous, for if the man were
to lose his seat, his death is nearly certain; but these Mexicans are
superb riders. A monk, who is attached to the establishment, seems an
ardent admirer of these sports, and his presence is useful, in case of a
dangerous accident occurring, which is not unfrequent.
The amusement was suddenly interrupted by sudden darkness, and a tremendous
storm of rain and thunder, in the midst of which we mounted our horses, and
galloped home.
TULANSINGO----, 8th.
Another bull-fight last evening! It is like pulque; one makes wry faces at
it at first, and then begins to like it. One thing we soon discovered;
which was, that the bulls, if so inclined, could leap upon our platform, as
they occasionally sprang over a wall twice as high. There was a part of the
spectacle rather too horrible. The horse of one of the picadors was gored,
his side torn up by the bull's horns, and in this state, streaming with
blood, he was forced to gallop round the circle.
We spent one day in visiting Omatusco, an hacienda belonging to the Señora
T---a, situated in the plains of Apan, and famous for the superior
excellence of its pulque. The organas, the nopal, and great fields of
maguey, constitute the chief vegetation for many miles round. The hacienda
itself, a fine large building, stands lonely and bleak in the midst of
magueys. A fine chapel, left unfinished since her husband's death,
attracted our attention by its simple architecture and unpretending
elegance. It is nearly impossible to conceive anything more lonely than a
residence here must be; or in fact in any of the haciendas situated on
these great plains of Otumha and Apan.
This morning we set off for Tulansingo, in four carriages-and-six,
containing the whole family, ourselves, maids, and children, padre and
nursery governess; relays being placed all along the road, which we
traversed at full gallop. But in crossing some great pasture-fields, the
drivers of two of the carriages began to race; one of the horses fell and
threw the postilion; the carriage itself was overturned, and though none of
the inmates was injured, the poor _mozo_ was terribly wounded in his head
and legs. No assistance being near, he changed places with one of the men
on horseback, and was brought on slowly.
About three in the afternoon we arrived at Tulansingo, rather an important
city in its way, and which has been the theatre of many revolutionary
events; with various streets and shops, a handsome church; alcaldes, a
prefect, etc. There appear to be some few good houses and decent families,
and clean, small shops, and there are pretty, shady walks in the environs;
and though there are also plenty of miserable dwellings and dirty people,
it is altogether rather a civilized place. The house of -----, which stands
within a courtyard, and is the house par excellence, is very handsome, with
little furniture, but with some remnants of luxury. The dining-hall is a
noble room, with beautiful Chinese paper, opening into a garden, which is
the boast of the republic, and is indeed singularly pretty, and kept in
beautiful order, with gravel walks and fine trees, clear tanks and
sparkling fountains, and an extraordinary profusion of the most beautiful
flowers, roses especially. There is something extremely oriental in its
appearance, and the fountains are ornamented with China vases and Chinese
figures of great value. Walking along under arches formed by rose-bushes, a
small column of water spouted forth from each bush, sprinkling us all over
with its showers. But the prettiest thing in the garden is a great tank of
clear water, enclosed on three sides by a Chinese building, round which
runs a piazza with stone pillars, shaded by a drapery of white curtains.
Comfortable well-cushioned sofas are arranged along the piazza, which opens
into a large room, where one may dress after bathing. It is the prettiest
and coolest retreat possible, and entirely surrounded by trees and roses.
Here one may lie at noonday, with the sun and the world completely shut
out. They call this an English garden, than which it rather resembles the
summer retreat of a sultan.
When we arrived, we found dinner laid for forty persons, and the table
ornamented by the taste of the gardener, with pyramids of beautiful
flowers.
I have now formed acquaintance with many Mexican dishes; _mole_ (meat
stewed in red chile), boiled nopal, fried bananas, green chile, etc. Then
we invariably have _frijoles_ (brown beans stewed), hot tortillas--and this
being in the country, pulque is the universal beverage. In Mexico,
tortillas and pulque are considered unfashionable, though both are to be
met with occasionally, in some of the best old houses. They have here a
most delicious species of cream cheese made by the Indians, and ate with
virgin honey. I believe there is an intermixture of goats' milk in it; but
the Indian families who make it, and who have been offered large sums for
the receipt, find it more profitable to keep their secret.
Every dinner has _puchero_ immediately following the soup; consisting of
boiled mutton, beef, bacon, fowls, garbanzos (a white bean), small gourds,
potatoes, boiled pears, greens, and any other vegetables; a piece of each
put on your plate at the same time, and accompanied by a sauce of herbs or
tomatoes.
As for fruits, we have mameys, chirimoyas, granaditas, white and black
zapotes; the black, sweet, with a green skin and black pulp, and with black
stones in it; the white resembling it in outward appearance and form, but
with a white pulp, and the kernel, which is said to be poisonous, is very
large, round, and white. It belongs to a larger and more leafy tree than
the black zapote, and grows in cold or temperate climates; whereas the
other is a native of _tierra caliente_. Then there is the chicozapote, of
the same family, with a whitish skin, and a white or rose-tinged pulp; this
also belongs to the warm regions. The capulin, or Mexican cherry; the
mango, of which the best come from Orizaba and Cordova; the cayote, etc. Of
these I prefer the chirimoya, zapote blanco, granadita, and mango; but this
is a matter of taste.
12th.--We have spent some days here very pleasantly; riding amongst the
hills in the neighbourhood, exploring caves, viewing waterfalls, and
climbing on foot or on horseback, wherever foot or horse could penetrate.
No habits to be worn in these parts, as I found from experience, after
being caught upon a gigantic maguey, and my gown torn in two. It is
certainly always the wisest plan to adopt the customs of the country one
lives in. A dress either of stuff, such as merino, or of muslin, as short
as it is usually worn, a reboso tied over one shoulder, and a large straw
hat, is about the most convenient costume that can be adopted. The horses
are small, but strong, spirited, and well-made; generally unshod, which
they say makes the motion more agreeable; and almost all, at least all
ladies' horses, are taught the _paso_, which I find tiresome for a
continuance, though a good paso-horse will keep up with others that gallop,
and for a longer time.
The great amusement here in the evening is playing at _juegos de prendas_,
games with forfeits, which I recommend to all who wish to make a rapid
improvement in the Spanish tongue. Last night, being desired to name a
forfeit for the padre, I condemned him to dance the _jarabe_, of which he
performed a few steps in his long gown and girdle, with equal awkwardness
and good nature. We met to-day the prettiest little ranchera, a farmer's
wife or daughter, riding in front of a _mozo_ on the same horse, their
usual mode, dressed in a short embroidered muslin petticoat, white satin
shoes, a pearl necklace, and earrings, a reboso, and a large round straw
hat. The ladies sit their horse on a contrary side to our fashion. They
have generally adopted English saddles, but the farmers' wives frequently
sit in a sort of chair, which they find much more commodious.
Some country ladies, who attended mass in the chapel this morning, were
dressed in very short clear white muslin gowns, very much starched, and so
disposed as to show two under-petticoats, also stiffly starched, and
trimmed with lace, their shoes coloured satin. Considered as a costume of
their own, I begin to think it rather pretty. The oldest women here or in
Mexico never wear caps; nothing but their own gray hair, sometimes cut
short, sometimes turned up with a comb, and not unusually tied behind in a
pigtail. There is no attempt to conceal the ravages of time....
It appears to me, that amongst the young girls here there is not that
desire to enter upon the cares of matrimony, which is to be observed in
many other countries. The opprobious epithet of "old maid" is unknown. A
girl is not the less admired because she has been ten or a dozen years in
society; the most severe remark made on her is that she is "hard to
please." No one calls her _passee_, or looks out for a new face to admire.
I have seen no courting of the young men either in mothers or daughters; no
match-making mammas, or daughters looking out for their own interests. In
fact, young people have so few opportunities of being together, that
Mexican marriages must be made in heaven; for I see no opportunity of
bringing them about upon earth! The young men when they do meet with young
ladies in society, appear devoted to and very much afraid of them. I know
but one lady in Mexico who has the reputation of having manoeuvred all her
daughters into great marriages; but she is so clever, and her daughters
were such beauties, that it can have cost her no trouble; as for
flirtation, the name is unknown, and the thing.
I have been taking lessons in the Indian dances from Doña R---a; they are
not ungraceful, but lazy and monotonous....
On every door in this house there is a printed paper to the following
effect:
"Quien á esta casa da luz? Jesús.
Quien la llena de alegria? María.
Y quien la abraza en la fé? José.
Luego bien claro se vé
Que siempre habra contrición,
Teniendo en la corazón,
A Jesús, María, y José."
"Who gives light to this house? Jesús.
Who fills it with joy? Mary.
Who kindles faith in it? Joséph.
Then we see very clearly
That there will always be contrition,
Keeping in our hearts,
Jesús, Mary, and Joséph."
These are written in verse, and below: "The most illustrious Bishop of
Monte-Rey, Don Fray José de Jesús María Balaunzaran, hereby ordains and
grants, along with the Bishops of Puebla, Durango, Valladolid and
Guadalajara, two hundred days of indulgence to all those who devoutly
repeat the above ejaculation, and invoke the sweet names of Mary, Jesús,
and Joséph."... The people here have certainly a poetical vein in their
composition. Everything is put into verse--sometimes doggerel, like the
above (in which _luz_ rhyming with _Jesús_, shows that the _z_ is
pronounced here like an _s_), occasionally a little better, but always in
rhyme.
We went this evening to visit the Countess del -----, who has a house in
the village. Found her in bed, feverish, and making use of simple remedies,
such as herbs, the knowledge and use of which have descended from the
ancient Indians to the present lords of the soil. The Spanish historians
who have written upon the conquest of Mexico, all mention the knowledge
which the Mexican physicians had of herbs. It was supposed by these last,
that for every infirmity there was a remedy in the herbs of the field; and
to apply them according to the nature of the malady, was the chief science
of these primitive professors of medicine. Much which is now used in
European pharmacy is due to the research of Mexican doctors; such as
sarsaparilla, jalap, friars' rhubarb, _mechoacan_, etc.; also various
emetics, antidotes to poison, remedies against fever, and an infinite
number of plants, minerals, gums, and simple medicines. As for their
infusions, decoctions, ointments, plasters, oils, etc., Cortés himself
mentions the wonderful number of these which he saw in the Mexican market
for sale. From certain trees they distilled balsams; and drew a balsamic
liquid both from a decoction of the branches, and from the bark steeped in
water. Bleeding and bathing were their other favourite remedies. The
country-people breathed a vein with a maguey-point, and when they could not
find leeches, substituted the prickles of the American-hedgehog.
Besides bathing in the rivers, lakes, tanks, and fountains, they used a
bath which is still to be seen in many Indian villages, and which they call
the temezcalli. It is made of unbaked bricks; its form is that of a baker's
oven, about eight feet wide and six high; the pavement rather convex, and
lower than the surface of the soil. A person can enter this bath only on
his knees. Opposite the entry is a stone or brick stove, its opening
towards the exterior of the bath, with a hole to let out the smoke. Before
the bath is prepared, the floor inside is covered with a mat, on which is
placed a jar of water, some herbs and leaves of corn. The stove is then
heated until the stones which unite it with the bath become red-hot. When
the bather enters the entry is closed, and the only opening left is a hole
at the top of the vault, which, when the smoke of the oven has passed
through, is also shut. They then pour water upon the red-hot stones, from
which a thick vapour arises, which fills the temezcalli. The bather then
throws himself on the mat, and drawing down the steam with the herbs and
maize, wets them in the tepid water of the jar, and if he has any pain,
applies them to the part affected. This having produced perspiration, the
door is opened and the well-baked patient comes out and dresses. For
fevers, for bad colds, for the bite of a poisonous animal, this is said to
be a certain cure; also for acute rheumatism.
For the cure of wounds, the Spaniards found the Mexican remedies most
efficacious. Cortes himself was cured by one of their doctors of a severe
wound in the head, received at Otumba, through which we lately passed. For
fractures, for humours, for everything they had their remedy; sometimes
pulverizing the seeds of plants, and attributing much of their efficacy to
the superstitious ceremonies and prayers which they used while applying
them, especially those which they offered up to _Tzapotlatenan_, the
goddess of medicine.
A great deal of this knowledge is still preserved amongst their
descendants, and considered efficacious. For every illness there is an
herb, for every accident a remedy. Baths are in constant use, although
these temezcallis are confined to the Indians. In every family there is
some knowledge of simple medicine, very necessary, in _haciendas_
especially, where no physician can possibly be procured.
There is a hill upon----'s property, said to contain much buried treasure.
There are many traditions here of this concealed Indian wealth, but very
little gold has been actually recovered from these mountain-tombs. Buried
gold has occasionally come to light; not by researches in the mountains,
for few are rash enough to throw away their money in search of what would
probably prove an imaginary treasure; but by accident--in the ruins of old
houses, where the proprietors had deposited it for safety in some period of
revolution; perhaps no later than at the time of the Spanish expulsion.
Some years ago, an old and very poor woman rented a house in the environs
of Mexico, as old and wretched as herself, for four reals a week. It had an
old broken-up stone _patio_ (inner courtyard), which she used occasionally
to sweep with a little old broom. One day she observed two or three stones
in this patio larger and more carefully put together than the others, and
the little old woman, being a daughter of Eve by some collateral branch,
poked down and worked at the stones until she was able to raise them up-
when lo and behold, she discovered a can full of treasure; no less than
five thousand dollars in gold! Her delight and her fright were unbounded;
and, being a prudent old lady, she determined, in the first place, to leave
the house, and next to bring in her treasure, _poquito a poquito_ (little
by little), to a room in Mexico, keeping the old house as a sort of bank.
She did so; took a nice room, and instead of sleeping on a _petate_ (mat),
as she had hitherto done, bought herself a little bedstead, and even a
mattress; treated herself not only to chocolate, but a few bottles of good
wine! Such extraordinary luxury could not fail to create suspicion. She was
questioned by her neighbours, and at length intrusted her secret to their
keeping. History says, that notwithstanding this, she was not robbed, and
was allowed to enjoy her good fortune in peace. It is difficult to credit
such a miracle in this land of picking and stealing, but rny authority is
beyond impeachment.
... Whilst I write on these irrelevant matters, I am warned that the
coaches are at the door, and that we are about setting off for Tepenacasco,
another hacienda of Señor---'s, a few leagues from this.
LETTER THE SEVENTEENTH
Arrival at Tepenacasco--Lake with Wild-duck--Ruined Hacienda--Sunset on the
Plains--Troop of Asses--Ride by Moonlight--Leave Tepenacasco--San
Miguel--Description--Thunderstorm--Guasco--Journey to Real del
Monte--English Road--Scenery--Village of Real--Count de Regla--Director's
House--English Breakfast--Visit to the Mines--The Cascade--The
Storm--Loneliness--A Journey in Storm and Darkness--Return to
Tepenacasco--Journey to Sopayuca--Narrow Escape--Famous Bull--Return to
Mexico.
TEPENACASCO.
This is a fine wild scene. The house stands entirely alone; not a tree near
it. Great mountains rise behind it, and in every other direction, as far as
the eye can reach, are vast plains, over which the wind comes whistling
fresh and free, with nothing to impede its triumphant progress. In front of
the house is a clear sheet of water, a great deep square basin for
collecting the rain. These _jagueys_, as they are called, are very common
in Mexico, where there are few rivers, and where the use of machines for
raising water is by no means general as yet. There is no garden here, but
there are a few shrubs and flowers in the inner courtyard. The house inside
is handsome, with a chapel and a patio, which is occasionally used as a
plaza de toros. The rooms are well fitted up, and the bedroom walls covered
with a pretty French paper, representing scenes of Swiss rural life. There
are great outhouses, stables for the mules and horses, and stone barns for
the wheat and barley, which, together with pulque, form the produce of this
hacienda.
We took a long ride this morning to visit a fine lake where there are
plenty of wild-duck and turtle. The gentlemen took their guns and had
tolerable sport. The lake is very deep, so that boats have sailed on it,
and several miles in circumference, with a rivulet flowing from it. Yet
with all this water the surrounding land, not more than twenty feet higher,
is dry and sterile, and the lake is turned to no account, either from want
of means, or of hydraulic knowledge. However, C---n having made some
observation on this subject, the proprietor of the lake and of a ruined
house standing near, which is the very picture of loneliness and
desolation, remarked in reply, that from this estate to Mexico, the
distance is thirty-six leagues; that a load of wheat costs one real a
league, and moreover the _alcaba_, the duty which has to be paid at the
gates of Mexico, so that it would bring no profit if sent there; while in
the surrounding district there is not sufficient population to consume the
produce; so that these unnecessary and burdensome taxes, the thinness of
the population, and the want of proper means of transport, impede the
prosperity of the people, and check the progress of agriculture....
I had a beautiful horse, but half-broke, and which took fright and ran off
with me. I got great credit for keeping my seat so well, which I must
confess was more through good fortune than skill. The day was delightful,
the air exhilarating, and the blue sky perfectly cloudless as we galloped
over the plains; but at length the wind rose so high that we dismounted,
and got into the carriage. We sat by the shores of the lake, and walked
along its pebbly margin, watching the wild-duck as they skimmed over its
glassy surface, and returned home in a magnificent sunset; the glorious god
himself a blood-red globe, surrounded by blazing clouds of gold and
crimson.
In the evening a troop of asses were driven across the plain, and led round
to the back of the house; and we were all called out in haste, and each
desired to choose one of the long-eared fraternity for our particular use.
Some had saddles and some had none, but we mounted to the number of thirty
persons, followed by a cavalcade of little ragged boys armed with sticks
and whips. My ass was an obstinate brute, whom I had mistakenly chosen for
his sleek coat and open countenance; but by dint of being lashed up, he
suddenly set off at full gallop, and distanced all the others. Such
screaming and laughing and confusion! and so much difficulty in keeping the
party together? It was nearly dark when we set off; but the moon rose, the
silver disc lighting up the hills and the plains; the wind fell, and the
night was calm and delightful. We rode about six miles to a pretty little
chapel with a cross, that gleamed amongst the trees in the moonlight, by
the side of a running stream. Here we dismounted, and sat by the brink of
the little sparkling rivulet, while the deep shadows came stealing over the
mountains, and all around was still, and cool, and silent; all but the
merry laughter of our noisy cavalcade. We returned about eleven o'clock,
few accidents having occurred. Doña R---a had fallen once. Doña M---- had
crushed her foot against her neighbour's ass. The padre was shaken to a
jelly, and the learned senator, who was of the party, declared he should
never recover from that night's jolting. To-morrow we shall set off for
Real del Monte.
17th.-After mass in the chapel we left Tepenacasco about seven o'clock, and
travelled (I believe by a short cut) over rocks and walls, torrents and
fields of maguey, all in a heavy carriage with six horses. Arriving in
sight of walls, the mozos gallop on and tear them down. Over the mountain-
torrents or _barrancas_, they dash boldly, encouraging the horses by the
wildest shrieks.
We stopped at San Miguel, a country-house belonging to the Count de Regla,
the former proprietor of the mines which we were about to visit; the most
picturesque and lovely place imaginable, but entirely abandoned; the house
comfortless and out of repair. We wandered through paths cut in the
beautiful woods, and by the side of a rivulet that seems to fertilize
everything through which it winds. We climbed the hills, and made our way
through the tangled luxuriance of trees and flowers, and in the midst of
hundreds of gaudy blossoms, I neglected them all upon coming to a grassy
slope covered with daisies and buttercups. We even found some hawthorn-
bushes. It might be English scenery, were it not that there is a richness
in the vegetation unknown in England. But all these beautiful solitudes are
abandoned to the deer that wander fearlessly amongst the woods, and the
birds that sing in their branches. While we were still far from the house,
a thunderstorm came on. When it rains here, the windows of heaven seem
opened, and the clouds pour down water in floods; the lightning also
appears to me peculiarly vivid, and many more accidents occur from it here
than in the north. We were drenched in five minutes, and in this plight
resumed our seats in the carriage, and set off for _Guasco_ (a village
where we were to pass the night) in the midst of the pelting storm. In an
hour or two the horses were wading up to their knees in water, and we
arrived at the pretty village of Guasco in a most comfortless condition.
There are no inns in these parts, but we were hospitably received by a
widow-lady, a friend of -----'s.
The Señora de -----, in clear muslin and lace, with satin shoes, was worse
than I in mousseline-de-laine and brode-quins; nevertheless, I mean to
adopt the fashion of the country to-morrow, when we are to rise at four to
go on to Real del Monte, and try the effect of travelling with clear gown,
satin petticoat, and shoes ditto; because "when one is in Rome," etc. The
storm continues with such unabated violence, that we must content ourselves
with contemplating the watery landscape from the windows.
TEPENACASCO.
Rose in Guasco at tour o'clock; dressed by candle-light, took chocolate,
and set off for Real del Monte. After we had travelled a few leagues,
tolerably cold, we rejoiced when the sun rose, and dispelling the mist,
threw his cheerful light over mountain and wood. The trees looked green and
refreshing after their last night's bath; the very rocks were sparkling
with silver. The morning was perfectly brillia'nt, and every leaf and
flower was glittering with the rain-drops not yet dried. The carriage
ascended slowly the road cut through the mountains by the English company;
a fine and useful enterprise; the first broad and smooth road I have seen
as yet in the republic. Until it was made, hundreds of mules daily conveyed
the ore from the mines over a dangerous mountain-path, to the hacienda of
Regla, a distance of six or seven leagues. We overtook wagons conveying
timber to the mines of Real, nine thousand feet above the level of the sea.
The scenery was magnificent. On one side mountains covered with oak and
pine, and carpeted by the brightest-coloured flowers; goats climbing up
the perpendicular rocks, and looking down upon us from their
vantage-ground; fresh clear rivulets, flinging themselves from rock to
rock, and here and there little Indian huts perched amongst the cliffs; on
the other, the deep valley with its bending forests and gushing river;
while far above, we caught a glimpse of Real itself, with its sloping
roofs and large church, standing in the very midst of forests and
mountains. We began to see people with fair hair and blue eyes, and one
individual, with a shock of fiery red hair and an undeniable Scotch
twang, I felt the greatest inclination to claim as a countryman.
The Indians here looked cleaner than those in or near Mexico, and
were not more than half naked. The whole country here, as well as
the mines, formerly belonged to the Count de Regla, who was so wealthy,
that when his son, the present count, was christened, the whole party
walked from his house to the church upon ingots of silver. The countess
having quarrelled with the vice-queen, sent her, in token of
reconciliation, a white satin slipper, entirely covered with large
diamonds. The count invited the King of Spain to visit his Mexican
territories, assuring him that the hoofs of his majesty's horse should
touch nothing but solid silver from Vera Cruz to the capital. This might be
a bravado; but a more certain proof of his wealth exists in the fact, that
he caused two ships of the line, of the largest size, to be constructed in
Havana at his expense, made of mahogany and cedar, and presented them to
the king. The present count was, as I already told you, married to the
beautiful daughter of the _Guerra Rodriguez._
We arrived at Real del Monte about nine o'clock, and drove to the
director's house, which is extremely pretty, commanding a most beautiful
and extensive view, and where we found a large fire burning in the grate--
very agreeable, as the morning was still somewhat chill, and which had a
look of home and comfort that made it still more acceptable. We were
received with the greatest cordiality by the director, Mr. Rule, and his
lady, and invited to partake of the most delicious breakfast that I have
seen for a long while; a happy _melange_ of English and Mexican. The snow-
white table-cloth, smoking tea-urn, hot rolls, fresh eggs, coffee, tea, and
toast looked very much _a l'Anglaise,_ while there were numbers of
substantial dishes _a l'Espagnole_, and delicious fresh cream-cheeses, to
all which our party did ample justice.
After breakfast, we went out to visit the mines, and it was curious to see
English children, clean and pretty, with their white hair and rosy cheeks,
and neat straw bonnets, mingled with the little copper-coloured Indians. We
visited all the different works; the apparatus for sawing, the turning-
lathe, foundry, etc.; but I regretted to find that we could not descend
into the mines. We went to the mouth of the shaft called the Dolores, which
has a narrow opening, and is entered by perpendicular ladders. The men go
down with conical caps on their heads, in which is stuck a lighted tallow
candle. In the great shaft, called Terreros, they descend, by means of
these ladders, to the depth of a thousand feet, there being platforms at
certain distances, on which they can rest. We were obliged to content
ourselves with seeing them go down, and with viewing and admiring all the
great works which English energy has established here; the various steam-
engines, the buildings for the separation and washing of the ore; the great
stores, workshops, offices, etc. Nearly all the workmen are British, and of
these the Scotch are preferred. Most of the miners are Indians, who work in
companies, and receive in payment the eighth part of the proceeds. The
director gave us some specimens of silver from the great heaps where they
lie, sparkling like genii's treasure.
Although I have not descended into these mines, I might give you a
description of them by what I have heard, and fill my paper with
arithmetical figures, by which you might judge of the former and the
present produce. I might tell you how Don Lucas Alaman went to England, and
raised, as if by magic, the enthusiasm of the English; how one fortune
after another has been swallowed up in the dark, deep gulf of speculation;
how expectations have been disappointed; and how the great cause of this is
the scarcity of quicksilver, which has been paid at the rate of one hundred
and fifty dollars per quintal in real cash, when the same quantity was
given at credit by the Spanish government for fifty dollars; how heaps of
silver lie abandoned, because the expense of acquiring quicksilver renders
it wholly unprofitable to extract it; and I might repeat the opinion of
those persons by whom I have heard the subject discussed, who express their
astonishment that, such being the case, an arrangement is not made with the
country which is the almost exclusive possessor of the quicksilver-mines,
by which it might be procured at a lower rate, and this great source of
wealth not thrown away. But for all these matters I refer you to _Humboldt
and Ward_, by whom they are scientifically treated, and will not trouble
you with superficial remarks on so important a subject. In fact, I must
confess that my attention was frequently attracted from the mines, and the
engines, and the works of man, and the discussions arising therefrom, to
the stupendous natural scenery by which we were surrounded; the unexplored
forests that clothe the mountains to their very summits, the torrents that
leaped and sparkled in the sunshine, the deep ravines, the many-tinted
foliage, the bold and jutting rocks. All combine to increase our admiration
of the bounties of nature to this favoured land, to which she has given
"every herb bearing seed, and every tree that is pleasant to the sight and
good for food," while her veins are rich with precious metals; the useful
and the beautiful offered with unsparing hand.
We were obliged to leave Real about two o'clock, having a long journey to
perform before night, as we had the intention of returning to sleep at
Tepenacasco. We took leave of our hospitable entertainers, and again
resumed our journey over these fine roads, many parts of which are blasted
from the great rocks of porphyry; and as we looked back at the picturesque
colony glistening in the sun, could hardly believe the prophecies of our
more experienced drivers, that a storm was brewing in the sky, which would
burst forth before evening. We were determined not to believe it, as it was
impossible to pass by the famous hacienda and ravine of Regla without
paying them at least a short visit.
This stupendous work of the Mexican miners in former days, is some leagues
to the south of Real del Monte, and is said to have cost many millions of
dollars. One should view it as we did, in a thunderstorm, for it has an air
of vastness and desolation, and at the same time of grandeur, that shows
well amidst a war of the elements. Down in a steep barranca, encircled by
basaltic cliffs, it lies; a mighty pile of building, which seems as if it
might have been constructed by some philosophical giant or necromancer;--so
that one is not prepared to find there an English director and his wife,
and the unpoetic comforts of roast mutton and potatoes!
All is on a gigantic scale: the immense vaulted store-houses for the silver
ore; the great smelting-furnaces and covered buildings where we saw the
process of amalgamation going on; the water-wheels; in short, all the
necessary machinery for the smelting and amalgamation of the metal. We
walked to see the great cascade, with its row of basaltic columns, and
found a seat on a piece of broken pillar beside the rushing river, where we
had a fine view of the lofty cliffs, covered with the wildest and most
luxuriant vegetation: vines trailing themselves over every broken shaft;
moss creeping over the huge disjointed masses of rock; and trees
overhanging the precipitous ravine. The columns look as if they might have
been the work of those who, on the plains of Shinar, began to build the
city, and the tower whose top was to reach to heaven.
But, as we sat here, the sky suddenly became overcast; great black masses
of cloud collected over our heads, and the rumbling of thunder in the
distance gave notice of an approaching storm. We had scarcely time to get
under shelter of the director's roof, when the thunder began to echo loudly
amongst the rocks, and was speedily followed by torrents of rain. It was a
superb storm: the lightning flashed amongst the trees, the wind howled
furiously, while
"Far along From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leapt the live thunder."
After resting and dining amidst a running accompaniment of plashing rain,
roaring wind, and deep-toned thunder, we found that it was in vain to wait
for a favourable change in the weather; and certainly, with less
experienced drivers, it would have been anything but safe to have set off
amidst the darkness of the storm, down precipitous descents and over
torrents swelled by the rain. The Count de Regla, who, attracted by the
plentiful supply of water in this ravine, conceived the idea of employing
part of his enormous fortune in the construction of these colossal works,
must have had an imagination on a large scale. The English directors, whose
wives bury themselves in such abysses, ought to feel more grateful to them
than any other husbands towards their sacrificing better halves. For the
men, occupied all day amongst their workmen and machinery, and returning
late in the evening to dine and sleep, there is no great self-immolation;
but a poor woman, living all alone, in a house fenced in by gigantic rocks;
with no other sound in her ears from morning till night but the roar of
thunder or the clang of machinery, had need for her personal comfort, to
have either a most romantic imagination, so that she may console herself
with feeling like an enchanted princess in a giant's castle, or a most
commonplace spirit, so that she may darn stockings to the sound of the
waterfall, and feel no other inconvenience from the storm, but that her
husband will require dry linen when he comes home.
As for us, we were drenched before we reached the carriage, into which the
water was pouring, and when we set off once more amidst the rapidly-
increasing darkness, and over these precipitous roads, we thought that our
chance of reaching the proposed haven that night was very small. After much
toil to the horses, we got out of the ravines and found ourselves once more
on the great plains, where the tired animals ploughed their way over fields
and ditches and great stones, and among trees and tangled bushes; an
occasional flash of lightning our only guide. Great was our joy, when,
about eleven o'clock, a man riding on in advance shouted out that the
lights of Tepenacasco were in sight; and still more complete our
satisfaction when we drove round the tank into the courtyard of the
hacienda. We were received with great applause by the inmates, and were not
sorry to rest after a very fatiguing yet agreeable day.
MEXICO, 21st.
We left Tepenacasco the day before yesterday. Our journey was very
dangerous, in consequence of the great rains, which had swelled the
torrents; especially as we set off late, and most of it was performed by
night. In these barrancas, carriages and horsemen have been frequently
swept away and dashed in pieces over the precipices. But to make our
situation more disagreeable, we had scarcely set off, before a terrible
storm of thunder and rain again came on with more violence than the night
preceding. It grew perfectly dark, and we listened with some alarm to the
roaring torrents, over which, especially over one, not many leagues from
Sopayuca, where we were to spend the night, it was extremely doubtful
whether we could pass. The carriage was full of water, but we were too much
alarmed to be uneasy about trifles. Amidst the howling of the wind and the
pealing of thunder, no one could hear the other speak. Suddenly, by a vivid
flash of lightning, the dreaded barranca appeared in sight for a moment,
and almost before the drivers could stop them, the horses had plunged in.
It was a moment of mortal fear such as I shall never forget. The shrieks of
the drivers to encourage the horses, the loud cries of Ave María! the
uncertainty as to whether our heavy carriage could be dragged across, the
horses struggling and splashing in the boiling torrent, and the horrible
fate that awaited us should one of them fall or falter!... The Señora
----- and I shut our eyes and held each other's hands, and certainly no one
breathed till we were safe on the other side. We were then told that we had
crossed within a few feet of a precipice over which a coach had been dashed
into fifty pieces during one of these swells, and of course every one
killed; and that if instead of horses we had travelled with mules, we must
have been lost. You may imagine that we were not sorry to reach Sopayuca;
where the people ran out to the door at the sound of carriage-wheels, and
could not believe that we had passed the barranca that night; as two or
three horsemen who had rode in that direction had turned back, and
pronounced it impassable.
Lights and supper were soon procured, and by way of interlude a monstrous
bull, of great fame in these parts, was led up to the supper-table for our
inspection with a rope through his nose, a fierce brute, but familiarly
called "el chato" (the flatnose), from the shortness of his horns. The
lightning continued very vivid, and they told us that a woman had been
struck there some time before, while in the chapel by night.
We rose at four o'clock the next morning and set off for Mexico. The
morning, as usual after these storms, was peculiarly fresh and beautiful;
but the sun soon grew oppressive on the great plains. About two o'clock we
entered Mexico by the Guadalupe gate. We found our house _in statu quo_,
--agreeable letters from Europe,--great preparations making for the English
ball, to assist at which we have returned sooner than we otherwise should,
and for which my _femme-de-chambre_ has just completed a dress for me,
very much to her own satisfaction.
LETTER THE EIGHTEENTH
English Ball--Dresses--Diamonds--Mineria--Arrival of the Pope's
Bull--Consecration of the Archbishop--Foreign Ministers--Splendour of
the Cathedral--Description of the Ceremony.
25th.
The English ball at the Mineria has passed off with great _éclat_. Nothing
could be more splendid than the general effect of this noble building,
brilliantly illuminated and filled with a well-dressed crowd. The president
and corps diplomatique were in full uniform, and the display of diamonds
was extraordinary. We ladies of the corps diplomatique tried to flatter
ourselves that we made up in elegance what we wanted in magnificence! for
in jewels no foreign ladies could attempt to compete with those of the
country. The daughter of Countess -----, just arrived from Paris, and whose
acquaintance I made for the first time, wore pale blue, with garlands of
pale pink roses, and a parure of most superb brilliants. The Señora de
A----'s head reminded me of that of the Marchioness of Londonderry, in
her opera-box. The Marquesa de Vivanco had a rivière of brilliants of
extraordinary size and beauty, and perfectly well set. Madame S---r wore a
very rich blonde dress, _garnie_ with plumes of ostrich feathers, a large
diamond fastening each plume. One lady wore a diadem which ----- said could
not be worth less than a hundred thousand dollars. Diamonds are always worn
plain or with pearls; coloured stones are considered trash, which is a
pity, as I think rubies and emeralds set in diamonds would give more
variety and splendour to their jewels. There were a profusion of large
pearls, generally of a pear shape. The finest and roundest were those worn
by the Señora B---a. There were many blonde dresses, a great fashion here.
I know no lady without one. Amongst the prettiest and most tastefully-
dressed girls were the E---s, as usual. Many dresses were overloaded, a
common fault in Mexico; and many of the dresses, though rich, were old-
fashioned; but the _coup d'oeil_ was not the less brilliant, and it was
somewhat astonishing, in such a multitude, not to see a single
objectionable person. To be sure the company were all invited.
On entering the noble court, which was brilliantly illuminated with
coloured lamps, hung from pillar to pillar, and passing up the great
staircase, we were met at the first landing by Mr. P----, in full uniform,
and other English gentlemen, the directors of the ball, who stood there to
receive the ladies. His excellency led me upstairs to the top of the
ball-room, where chairs were placed for the president, ladies of the
_diplomaties_, cabinet Ministers, etc. The music was excellent, and dancing
was already in full force. And though there were assembled what is called
_all Mexico_, the rooms are so large, that the crowd was not disagreeable,
nor the heat oppressive. Pictures of Queen Victoria were hung in the
different large halls. The supper-tables were very handsome; and in fact
the ball altogether was worthy of its object; for Messieurs les Anglais
always do these things well when they attempt them.
The president took me to supper. The company walked in to the music of "God
save the Queen." After we had sat a little while the president demanded
silence, and, in a short speech, proposed the health of Her Majesty Queen
Victoria, which was drank by all the company standing. After supper we
continued dancing till nearly six in the morning; and when we got into the
carriage it was broad daylight, and all the bells were ringing for mass.
This is the best ball we have seen here, without any exception; and it is
said to have cost eleven thousand dollars. There were certainly a great
number of pretty faces at this fête, many pretty girls whom we had not seen
before, and whom the English secretaries have contrived to _unearth_. Fine
eyes are a mere _drug_--every one has them; large, dark, full orbs, with
long silken lashes. As for diamonds, no man above the rank of a _lépero_
marries in this country without presenting his bride with at least a pair
of diamond earrings, or a pearl necklace with a diamond clasp. They are not
always a proof of wealth, though they constitute it in themselves. Their
owners may be very poor in other respects. They are considered a necessary
of life; quite as much so as shoes and stockings.
June 2nd.--On the 15th of April, the pontifical bulls arrived from Rome,
confirming the election of the Señor Posada to the Archiepiscopal dignity;
and on Saturday last, the 31st of May, the consecration took place in the
cathedral with the greatest pomp. The presiding bishop was the Señor
Belaunzaran, the old Bishop of Linares; the two assistant bishops were the
Señor Madrid, a young, good-looking man, who having been banished from
Mexico during the revolution, took refuge in Rome, where he obtained the
favour of the Pope, who afterwards recommended him to an episcopal see in
Mexico; and the Doctor Morales, formerly Bishop of Sonora. His _padrino_
was the President, General Bustamante, who in his capacity presented his
godson with the splendid pastoral ring, a solitary diamond of immense size.
All the diplomatic body and the cabinet went in full uniform; chairs being
placed for them on each side of the _crugia_ (the passage leading to the
altar). A dispute upon the subject of precedence arose between an
excellency of the diplomatic corps, and the secretary of state, which seems
likely to have disagreeable consequences. I had the pleasure of kneeling
beside these illustrious persons for the space of three or four hours, for
no seats were placed for the wives either of the diplomates or of the
cabinet.
But the ceremony, though long, was very superb, the music fine, the
quantity of jewels on the dresses of the bishops and priests, and on the
holy vessels, etc., enormous. The bishops were arrayed in white velvet and
gold, and their mitres were literally covered with diamonds. The gold
candlesticks and golden basins for holy water, and golden incensories,
reminded me of the description of the ornaments of the Jewish tabernacle in
the days of Moses; of the "candlesticks of pure gold, with golden
branches;" and "the tongs and snuff-dishes of pure gold:" or of the temple
of Solomon, where the altar was of gold, and the table of gold, and the
candlesticks and the snuffers, and the basins, and the spoons, and the
censors were of pure gold. The pontifical vestments destined for the
elected primate, were all prepared;--sandals, amice, surplice, girdle,
pectoral cross, stole, gown, vestment, with open sleeves (the dalmatica),
crosier, mitre, pontifical ring, etc. Magnificent chairs were prepared for
the bishops near the altar, and the president in uniform took his place
amongst them. The presiding bishop took his seat alone, with his back to
the altar, and the Señor Posada was led in by the assisting bishops, they
with their mitres, he with his priest's cap on. Arrived before the
presiding bishop, he uncovered his head, and made a profound obeisance.
These three then took their places on chairs placed in front; and the
ceremony having begun, in case you should wish to have some idea of it, I
shall endeavour to give it you, for I was so situated, that although the
cathedral was crowded to excess, I could see and hear all that passed. Let
me premise, however, that there was not one _lépero_, as they are always
excluded on such occasions.
Posada and his assisting bishops rose, and uncovered their heads; and the
Bishop Morales turning to the presiding bishop, said, "Most reverend
father, the holy Catholic Mother Church requests you to raise this
Presbyter to the charge of the archbishopric."
"Have you an apostolical mandate?"
"We have."
"Read it."
An assistant priest then read the mandate in a loud voice; upon which they
all sat down, and the consecrator saying, "Thanks be to God!" Then the
Posada kneeling before him, took an oath, upon the Bible, which the bishop
held, concluding with these words--"So may God help me, and these his holy
gospels." Then sitting down, and resuming their mitres, the examination of
the future archbishop took place. It was very long, and at its conclusion,
Posada knelt before the presiding bishop and kissed his hand. To this
succeeded the confession, every one standing uncovered before the altar,
which was then sprinkled with incense. Then followed the mass, chanted.
The assisting bishops then led out the Señor Posada to the chapel, where
they put on his sandals, and where he assumed the pectoral cross, amice,
surplice, etc.; and arriving at the altar read the office of the mass. He
was then conducted again before the consecrating bishop, who was seated
with his mitre, and after saluting him reverently, he sat down. Then the
bishop, addressing him said: "It is the duty of the bishop to judge,
interpret, consecrate, ordain, offer, baptize, and confirm."
All then rose, and the bishop prayed that the newly-elected primate might
receive the grace of heaven. All the bishops and priests then prostrated
themselves while the Litanies were sung. The presiding bishop, rising took
the crosier, and prayed three times for a blessing on the Chosen One;
thrice making on him the sign of the cross; and they continued to sing the
Litanies; at the conclusion of which they all arose, took their seats and
resumed their mitres, Posada alone kneeling before the bishop.
The Bible was then placed upon his shoulders, while he remained prostrated,
and the bishop rising up, pronounced a solemn benediction upon him, while
the hymn of "Veni Creator Spiritus," was sung in full chorus. Then the
bishop, dipping his hand in the holy chrism, anointed the primate's head,
making on it the sign of the cross, saying, "Let thy head be anointed and
consecrated with the celestial benediction, according to the pontifical
mandate." The bishop then anointed his hands, making in the same manner the
sign of the cross, and saying, "May these hands be anointed with holy oil;
and as Samuel anointed David a king and a prophet, so be thou anointed and
consecrated." This was followed by a solemn prayer.
Then the crosier was blessed, and presented to the elected archbishop with
these words. "Receive the pastoral crosier, that thou mayest be humanely
severe in correcting vices, exercising judgment without wrath," etc. The
blessing of the ring followed with solemn prayer, and being sprinkled with
holy water, it was placed on the third finger of the right hand, the bishop
saying, "Receive the ring, which is a sign of faith; that, adorned with
incorruptible faith, thou mayest guard inviolably the spouse of God, his
Holy Church."
The Bible being then taken off the shoulders of the prostrate prelate, was
presented to him with an injunction to receive and to preach the gospel.
Finally, the bishop bestowed on him the kiss of peace; and all the other
bishops did so in their turn. Posada then retired, and his head and hands
being washed, he soon after returned with the assistant bishops, carrying
two lighted wax tapers, which he presented to the presiding bishop,
together with two loaves and two small barrels of wine, reverently kissing
his hand. After this, the presiding bishop washed his hands and mounted the
steps of the altar, and the new primate received the sacrament.
The mitre was then blessed and placed upon his head, with a prayer by the
bishop, that thus, with his head armed and with the staff of the gospels,
he might appear terrible to the adversaries of the True Faith. The gloves
were next consecrated and drawn on his hands, the bishop praying that his
hands might be surrounded by the purity of the new man; and that as Jacob,
when he covered his hands with goat-skins, offered agreeable meats to his
father, and received his paternal benediction, so he, in offering the Holy
Sacrament, might obtain the benediction of his Heavenly Father. The
archbishop was then seated by the consecrating bishop on his pontifical
throne, and at the same moment, the hymn "Te Deum Iaudamus" was chanted.
During the hymn, the bishops, with their jewelled mitres, rose, and passing
through the church, blessed the whole congregation, the new archbishop
still remaining near the altar, and without his mitre. When he returned to
his seat, the assistant bishops, including the consecrator, remained
standing till the hymn was concluded. The presiding bishop then advancing,
without his mitre, to the right hand of the archbishop, said, "May thy hand
be strengthened! May thy right hand be exalted! May justice and judgment be
the preparation of thy see!" Then the organ pealed forth, and they chanted
the hymn of "Gloria Patri." Long and solemn prayer followed; and then, all
uncovered, stood beside the gospels, at the altar.
The archbishop rose, and with mitre and crosier, pronounced a solemn
blessing on all the people assembled. Then, while all knelt beside the
altar, he said--"For many years." This he repeated thrice; the second time,
in the middle of the altar, the third at the feet of the presiding bishop.
Then all rising, the archbishop bestowed on each the kiss of peace, and the
ceremony concluded.
When everything was over, our carriage not being visible amongst the crowd
of vehicles, I returned home in that of the ----- Minister, with him and
his attaches; after which, they and C---n returned to dine with the new
archbishop in his palace. A dish of sweetmeats was sent me from his table,
which are so pretty, (probably the chef-d'oeuvre of the nuns,) that I send
them to you, to preserve as a memorial of the consecration of the first
Mexican archbishop--perhaps of the last!
LETTER THE NINETEENTH
Mexican Servants--Anecdotes--Remedies--An unsafe Porter--Galopinas--The
Reboso--The Sarape--Women Cooks--Foreign Servants--Characteristics of
Mexican Servants--Servants' Wages--Nun of the Santa Teresa--Motives for
taking the Veil.
June 3rd.
You ask me to tell you how I find the Mexican servants. Hitherto I had
avoided the ungrateful theme, from very weariness of it. The badness of the
servants, is an unfailing source of complaint even amongst Mexicans; much
more so amongst foreigners, especially on their first arrival. We hear of
their addiction to stealing, their laziness, drunkenness, dirtiness, with a
host of other vices. That these complaints are frequently just, there can
be no doubt, but the evil might be remedied to a great extent. In the first
place servants are constantly taken without being required to bring a
recommendation from their last place; and in the next, recommendations are
constantly given, whether from indolence or mistaken kindness, to servants
who do not deserve them. A servant who has lived in a dozen different
houses, staying about a month in each, is not thought the worse of on that
account. As the love of finery is inherent in them all, even more so than
in other daughters of Eve, a girl will go to service merely to earn
sufficient to buy herself an embroidered chemise; and if, in addition to
this, she can pick up a pair of small old satin shoes, she will tell you
she is tired of working, and going home to rest, "_para descansar_." So
little is necessary, when one can contentedly live on tortillas and chile,
sleep on a mat, and dress in rags!
A decent old woman, who came to the house to wash shortly after our arrival
in this country, and left us at the end of the month, "_para descansar_."
Soon after, she used to come with her six children, they and herself all in
rags, and beg the gardener to give her any _odds and ends_ of vegetables he
could spare. My maid asked her, why, being so poor, she had left a good
place, where she got twelve dollars a month. "Jesús!" said she, "if you
only knew the pleasure of doing nothing."
I wished to bring up a little girl as a servant, having her taught to read,
sew, etc. A child of twelve years old, one of a large family, who subsisted
upon charity, was procured for me; and I promised her mother that she
should be taught to read, taken regularly to church, and instructed in all
kinds of work. She was rather pretty, and very intelligent, though
extremely indolent; and though she had no stockings, would consent to wear
nothing but dirty white satin shoes, too short for her foot. Once a week,
her mother, a tall, slatternly woman, with long tangled hair, and a cigar
in her mouth, used to come to visit her, accompanied by a friend, a
friend's friend, and a train of girls, her daughters. The housekeeper would
give them some dinner, after which they would all light their cigars, and,
together with the little Joséfita, sit, and howl, and bemoan themselves,
crying and lamenting her sad fate in being obliged to go out to service.
After these visits, Joséfita was fit for nothing. If desired to sew, she
would sit looking so miserable, and doing so little, that it seemed better
to allow her to leave her work alone. Then, tolerably contented, she would
sit on a mat, doing nothing, her hands folded, and her eyes fixed on
vacancy.
According to promise, I took her several times to see her mother, but one
day being occupied, I sent her alone in the carriage, with charge to the
servants to bring her safely back. In the evening she returned, accompanied
by the whole family, all crying and howling; "For the love of the Most Holy
Virgin, Señora mia! Por la purissima Concepción!" etc., etc., etc. I asked
what had happened, and after much difficulty discovered that their horror
was occasioned by my having sent her alone in the carriage. It happened
that the Countess S---- was in the drawing room, and to her I related the
cause of the uproar. To my astonishment, she assured me that the woman was
in this instance right, and that it was very dangerous to send a girl of
twelve years of age from one street to another, in the power of the
coachman and footman. Finding from such good authority that this was the
case, I begged the woman to be contented with seeing her daughter once a
month, when, if she could not come herself, I would send her under proper
protection. She agreed; but one day having given Joséfita permission to
spend the night at her mother's, I received next morning a very dirty
note, nearly illegible, which, after calling down the protection of the
Virgin upon me, concluded-"but with much sorrow I must take my child from
the most illustrious protection of your excellency, for she needs to rest
her-self, (es preciso que descanse,) and is tired for the present of
working." The woman then returned to beg, which she considered infinitely
less degrading.
Against this nearly universal indolence and indifference to earning money,
the heads of families have to contend; as also against thieving and
dirtiness; yet I think the remedy much easier than it appears. If on the
one hand, no one were to receive a servant into their house, without
respectable references, especially from their last place, and if their
having remained one year in the same house were considered necessary to
their being received into another, unless from some peculiar circumstances;
and if on the other hand it were considered as unjust and dangerous, as it
really is, to recommend a servant who has been guilty of stealing, as being
"_muy honrado_," very honest, some improvement might soon take place.
A porter was recommended to us as "muy honrado;" not from his last place,
but from one before. He was a well-dressed, sad-looking individual; and at
the same time we took his wife as washerwoman, and his brother as valet to
our attache, thus having the whole family under our roof, wisely taking it
for granted that he being recommended as particularly honest, his relations
were "all honourable men." An English lady happened to call on me, and a
short time after I went to return her visit; when she informed me that the
person who had opened the door for her was a notorious thief; whom the
police had long been in search of; that she had feared sending a servant to
warn us of our danger, lest guessing the purport of her message, he might
rob the house before leaving it. We said nothing to the man that evening,
but he looked paler and more miserable than usual, probably foreseeing what
would be the result of Mrs. -----'s visit. The next morning C---n sent for
him and dismissed him, giving him a month's wages, that he might not be
tempted to steal from immediate want. His face grew perfectly livid, but he
made no remark. In half an hour he returned and begged to speak with C---n.
He confessed that the crime of which he concluded he was accused, he had in
fact committed; that he had been tempted to a gambling house, while he had
in his pocket a large sum of money belonging to his master. After losing
his own money, he tried his fortune with what was not his own; lost the
whole sum, then pawned a valuable shawl worth several hundred dollars, with
which also he had been entrusted; and having lost everything, in despair
made his escape from Mexico. He remained in concealment for some time, till
hearing that we wanted a porter, he ventured to present himself to the
housekeeper with his former certificate. He declared himself thoroughly
repentant--that this was his first, and would be his last crime--but who
can trust the good resolutions of a gambler! We were obliged to send him
away, especially as the other servants already had some suspicions
concerning him; and everything stolen in the house would in future have
been attributed to him. The gentleman who had recommended him, afterwards
confessed that he always had strong suspicions of this man's honesty, and
knew him to be so determined a gambler, that he had pawned all he
possessed, even his wife's clothes, to obtain money for that purpose. Now
as a porter in Mexico has pretty much at his disposal the property and even
the lives of the whole family, it is certainly most blameable to recommend
to that situation a man whose honesty is more than doubtful. We afterwards
procured two soldiers from the _Invalidos_, old Spaniards, to act in that
capacity, who had no other foiblesse but that of being constantly drunk. We
at length found two others, who only got tipsy alternately, so that we
considered ourselves very well off.
We had a long series of _galopinas_, kitchen-maids, and the only one who
brought a first-rate character with her, robbed the housekeeper. The money,
however, was recovered, and was found to have been placed by the girl in
the hands of a rich and apparently respectable coachmaker. He refunded it
to the rightful owner, and the galopina was punished by a month's
imprisonment, which he should have shared with her. One of the most
disagreeable customs of the women servants, is that of wearing their long
hair hanging down at its full length, matted, uncombed, and always in the
way. I cannot imagine how the Mexican ladies, who complain of this, permit
it. Flowing hair sounds very picturesque, but when it is very dirty, and
suspended over the soup, it is not a pretty picture.
The reboso, in itself graceful and convenient, has the disadvantage of
being the greatest cloak for all untidiness, uncombed hair and raggedness,
that ever was invented. Even in the better classes, it occasions much
indolence in the toilet, but in the common people, its effect is
overwhelming. When the reboso drops off, or is displaced by chance, we see
what they would be without it! As for the sarape, it is both convenient and
graceful, especially on horseback; but though Indian in its origin, the
custom of covering the lower part of the face with it, is taken from the
Spanish cloak; and the opportunity which both sarape and reboso afford for
concealing large knives about the person, as also for enveloping both face
and figure so as to be scarcely recognizable, is no doubt the cause of the
many murders which take place amongst the lower orders, in moments of
excitement and drunkenness. If they had not these knives at hand, their
rage would probably cool, or a fair fight would finish the matter, and if
they could not wear these knives concealed, I presume they would be
prohibited from carrying them.
As for taking a woman-cook in Mexico, one must have strong nerves and a
good appetite to eat what she dresses, however palatable, after having seen
her. One look at her flowing locks, one glance at her reboso, _et c'est
fini_. And yet the Mexican servants have their good qualities, and are a
thousand times preferable to the foreign servants one finds in Mexico;
especially the French. Bringing them with you is a dangerous experiment. In
ten days they begin to fancy themselves ladies and gentlemen--the men have
_Don_ tacked to their name; and they either marry and set up shops, or
become unbearably insolent. A tolerable French cook may occasionally be
had, but you must pay his services their weight in gold, and wink at his
extortions and robberies. There are one or two French _restaurans_, who
will send you in a very good dinner at an extravagant price: and it is
common in foreign houses, especially amongst the English, to adopt this
plan whenever they give a large entertainment.
The Mexican servants have some never-failing good qualities. They are the
perfection of civility-humble, obliging, excessively good-tempered, and
very easily attached to those with whom they live; and if that _rara avis_,
a good Mexican housekeeper, can be found, and that such may be met with I
from experience can testify, then the troubles of the menage rest upon her
shoulders, and accustomed as she is to the amiable weaknesses of her
_compatriotes_, she is neither surprised nor disturbed by them.
As for wages, a good porter has from fifteen to twenty dollars per month; a
coachman from twenty to thirty--many houses keep two or even three
coachmen; one who drives from the box, one who rides postilion, and a third
for emergencies. Our friend---, who has many horses, mules, and carriages,
has four; and pays forty dollars per month to his head coachman; the others
in proportion. A French cook has about thirty dollars--a housekeeper from
twelve to fifteen; a major-domo about twenty or more; a footman six or
seven; galopine and chambermaid five or six; a gardener from twelve to
fifteen. Sewing-girls have about three reals per diem. Porter, coachmen,
and gardener, have their wives and families in the house, which would be an
annoyance, were the houses not so large. The men-servants generally are
much cleaner and better dressed than the women.
One circumstance is remarkable; that, dirty as the women-servants are, and
notwithstanding the enormous size of Mexican houses, and Mexican families,
the houses themselves are, generally speaking, the perfection of
cleanliness. This must be due either to a good housekeeper, which is rarely
to be found, or to the care taken by the mistress of the house herself.
That private houses should have this advantage over churches and theatres,
only proves that ladies know how to manage these matters better than
gentlemen, so that one is inclined to wish _a la Martineau_, that the
Mexican police were entirely composed of old women.
12th.--I have formed an acquaintance with a very amiable and agreeable nun
in the convent of Santa Teresa, one of the strictest orders. I have only
seen her twice, through a grating. She is a handsome woman of good family,
and it is said of a remarkably joyous disposition; fond of music and
dancing, and gay society, yet at the age of eighteen, contrary to the
wishes of all her family, she took the veil, and declares she has never
repented of it. Although I cannot see her, I can hear her voice, and talk
to her through a turning wooden screen, which has a very mysterious effect.
She gives me an account of her occupations and of the little events that
take place in her small world within; whilst I bring her news from the
world without. The common people have the greatest veneration for the holy
sisterhood, and I generally find there a number of women with baskets, and
men carrying parcels or letters; some asking their advice or assistance,
others executing their commissions, bringing them vegetables or bread, and
listening to the sound of their voice with the most eager attention. My
friend, the Madre---, has promised to dress a number of wax figures for me,
in the exact costume of all the different nuns in Mexico, beginning with
that of her own convent.
I have now seen three nuns take the veil; and, next to a death, consider it
the saddest event that can occur in this nether sphere; yet the frequency
of these human sacrifices here is not so strange as might at first appear.
A young girl, who knows nothing of the world, who, as it too frequently
happens, has at home neither amusement nor instruction, and no society
abroad, who from childhood is under the dominion of her confessor, and who
firmly believes that by entering a convent she becomes sure of heaven; who
moreover finds there a number of companions of her own age, and of older
women who load her with praises and caresses--it is not, after all,
astonishing that she should consent to insure her salvation on such easy
terms.
Add to this the splendour of the ceremony, of which she is the sole object;
the cynosure of all approving eyes. A girl of sixteen finds it hard to
resist all this. I am told that more girls are smitten by the ceremony,
than by anything else, and am inclined to believe it, from the remarks I
have heard made on these occasions by young girls in my vicinity. What does
she lose? A husband and children? Probably she has seen no one who has
touched her heart. Most probably she has hitherto seen no men, or at least
conversed with none but her brothers, her uncles, or her confessor. She has
perhaps also felt the troubles of a Mexican menage. The society of men! She
will still see her confessor, and she will have occasional visits from
reverend padres and right reverend bishops.
Some of these convents are not entirely free from scandal. Amongst the
monks, there are many who are openly a disgrace to their calling, though I
firmly believe that by far the greater number lead a life of privation and
virtue. Their conduct can, to a certain extent, be judged of by the world;
but the pale nuns, devout and pure, immured in the cloister for life,
kneeling before the shrine, or chanting hymns in the silence of the night,
a veil both truly and allegorically must shade their virtues or their
failings. The nuns of the Santa Teresa and of other strict orders, who live
sparingly, profess the most severe rules, and have no servants or boarders,
enjoy a universal reputation for virtue and sanctity. They consider the
other convents worldly, and their motto is, "All or nothing; the world or
the cloister." Each abbess adds a stricter rule, a severer penance than her
predecessor, and in this they glory. My friend the Madre---frequently says
--"Were I to be born again, I should choose, above every lot in life, to be
a nun of the Santa Teresa, but of no other convent."...
It is strange how, all the world over, mankind seems to expect from those
who assume religion as a profession a degree of superhuman perfection.
Their failings are insisted upon. Every eye is upon them to mark whatsoever
may be amiss in their conduct. Their virtues, their learning, their holy
lives--nothing will avail them, if one blot can be discovered in their
character. There must be no moral blemish in the priesthood. In the
Catholic religion, where more is professed, still more is demanded, and the
errors of one padre or one ecclesiastic seem to throw a shade over the
whole community to which they belong.
LETTER THE TWENTIETH
The Convent Entry--Díalogue--A Chair in Church--Arrival of the
Nun--Dress--José María--Crowd--Withdrawal of the Black Curtain--The Taking
of the Veil--The Sermon--A Dead Body--Another Victim--Convent of the
Encarnación--Attempt at a Hymn--Invitation--Morning Visit--The Nun and her
Mother--Banquet--Taking Leave--Ceremony of the Veil-taking--A Beautiful
Victim--The Last Look--Presentation to the Bishop--Reflections--Verses.
4th June.
Some days ago, having received a message from _my nun_ that a girl was
about to take the veil in her convent, I went there about six o'clock, and
knowing that the church on these occasions is apt to be crowded to
suffocation, I proceeded to the _reja_, and speaking to an invisible
within, requested to know in what part of the church I could have a place.
Upon which a voice replied--
"Hermanita (my sister), I am rejoiced to see you. You shall have a place
beside the godmother."
"Many thanks, Hermanita. Which way shall I go?"
_Voice_.--"You shall go through the sacristy. José María!"
José María, a thin, pale, lank individual, with hollow cheeks, who was
standing near like a page in waiting, sprang forward--"_Madrecita_, I am
here!"
_Voice_.--"José María--That lady is the Señora de C---n. You will conduct
her excellency to the front of the grating, and give her a chair."
After I had thanked the _voice_ for her kindness in attending to me on a
day when she was so much occupied with other affairs, the obsequious José
María led the way, and I followed him through the sacristy into the church,
where there were already a few kneeling figures; and thence into the
railed-off enclosure destined for the relatives of the future nun, where I
was permitted to sit down in a comfortable velvet chair. I had been there
but a little while when the aforesaid José María reappeared, picking his
steps as if he were walking upon eggs in a sick-room. He brought me a
message from the Madre---that the nun had arrived, and that the madrecita
wished to know if I should like to give her an embrace before the ceremony
began. I therefore followed my guide back into the sacristy, where the
future nun was seated beside her god-mother, and in the midst of her
friends and relations, about thirty in all.
She was arrayed in pale blue satin, with diamonds, pearls, and a crown of
flowers. She was literally smothered in blonde and jewels; and her face was
flushed as well it might be, for she had passed the day in taking leave of
her friends at a fête they had given her, and had then, according to
custom, been paraded through the town in all her finery. And now her last
hour was at hand. When I came in she rose and embraced me with as much
cordiality as if we had known each other for years. Beside her sat the
Madrina, also in white satin and jewels; all the relations being likewise
decked out in their finest array. The nun kept laughing every now and then
in the most unnatural and hysterical manner, as I thought, apparently to
impress us with the conviction of her perfect happiness; for it is a great
point of honour amongst girls similarly situated to look as cheerful and
gay as possible; the same feeling, though in a different degree, which
induces the gallant highwayman to jest in the presence of the multitude
when the hangman's cord is within an inch of his neck, the same which makes
the gallant general whose life is forfeited, command his men to fire on
him; the same which makes the Hindoo widow mount the funeral pile without a
tear in her eye, or a sigh on her lips. If the robber were to be strangled
in a corner of his dungeon; if the general were to be put to death
privately in his own apartment; if the widow were to be burnt quietly on
her own hearth; if the nun were to be secretly smuggled in at the convent
gate like a bale of contraband goods,--we might hear another tale. This
girl was very young, but by no means pretty; on the contrary, rather
_disgraciee par la nature_; and perhaps a knowledge of her own want of
attraction may have caused the world to have few charms for her.
But José María cut short my train of reflections, by requesting me to
return to my seat before the crowd arrived, which I did forthwith. Shortly
after, the church doors were thrown open, and a crowd burst in, every one
struggling to obtain the best seat. Musicians entered, carrying desks and
music-books, and placed themselves in two rows, on either side of the
enclosure where I was. Then the organ struck up its solemn psalmody, and
was followed by the gay music of the band. Rockets were let off outside the
church, and, at the same time, the Madrina and all the relations entered
and knelt down in front of the grating which looks into the convent, but
before which hung a dismal black curtain. I left my chair and knelt down
beside the godmother.
Suddenly the curtain was withdrawn, and the picturesque beauty of the scene
within baffles all description. Beside the altar, which was in a blaze of
light, was a perfect mass of crimson and gold drapery; the walls, the
antique chairs, the table before which the priests sat, all hung with the
same splendid material. The bishop wore his superb mitre and robes of
crimson and gold; the attendant priests also glittering in crimson and gold
embroidery.
In contrast to these, five-and-twenty figures, entirely robed in black from
head to foot, were ranged on each side of the room prostrate, their faces
touching the ground, and in their hands immense lighted tapers. On the
foreground was spread a purple carpet bordered round with a garland of
freshly-gathered flowers, roses and carnations and heliotrope, the only
thing that looked real and living in the whole scene; and in the middle of
this knelt the novice, still arrayed in her blue satin, white lace veil and
jewels, and also with a great lighted taper in her hand.
The black nuns then rose and sang a hymn, every now and then falling on
their faces and touching the floor with their foreheads. The whole looked
like an incantation, or a scene in Robert le Díable. The novice was then
raised from the ground and led to the feet of the bishop, who examined her
as to her vocation, and gave her his blessing, and once more the black
curtain fell between us and them.
In the _second act_, she was lying prostrate on the floor, disrobed of her
profane dress, and covered over with a black cloth, while the black figures
kneeling round her chanted a hymn. She was now dead to the world. The
sunbeams had faded away, as if they would not look upon the scene, and all
the light was concentrated in one great mass upon the convent group.
Again she was raised. All the blood had rushed into her face, and her
attempt at a smile was truly painful. She then knelt before the bishop and
received the benediction, with the sign of the cross, from a white hand
with the pastoral ring. She then went round alone to embrace all the dark
phantoms as they stood motionless, and as each dark shadow clasped her in
its arms, it seemed like the dead welcoming a new arrival to the shades.
But I forget the sermon, which was delivered by a fat priest, who elbowed
his way with some difficulty through the crowd to the grating, panting and
in a prodigious heat, and ensconced himself in a great arm-chair close
beside us. He assured her that she "had chosen the good part, which could
not be taken away from her;" that she was now one of the elect, "chosen
from amongst the wickedness and dangers of the world;"--(picked out like a
plum from a pie). He mentioned with pity and contempt those who were "yet
struggling in the great Babylon;" and compared their miserable fate with
hers, the Bride of Christ, who, after suffering a few privations here
during a short term of years, should be received at once into a kingdom of
glory. The whole discourse was well calculated to rally her fainting
spirits, if fainting they were, and to inspire us with a great disgust for
ourselves.
When the sermon was concluded, the music again struck up--the heroine of
the day came forward, and stood before the grating to take her last look of
this wicked world. Down fell the black curtain. Up rose the relations, and
I accompanied them into the sacristy. Here they coolly lighted their
cigars, and very philosophically discoursed upon the exceeding good fortune
of the new-made nun, and on her evident delight and satisfaction with her
own situation. As we did not follow her behind the scenes, I could not give
my opinion on this point. Shortly after, one of the gentlemen civilly led
me to my carriage, and _so it was_.
As we were returning home, some soldiers rode up and stopped the carriage,
desiring the coachman to take to the other side of the aqueduct, to avoid
the body of a man who had just been murdered within a few doors of our
house.
In the Convent of the Incarnation, I saw another girl sacrificed in a
similar manner. She was received there without a dowry, on account of the
exceeding fineness of her voice. She little thought what a fatal gift it
would prove to her. The most cruel part of all was, that wishing to display
her fine voice to the public, they made her sing a hymn alone, on her
knees, her arms extended in the form of a cross, before all the immense
crowd; "Ancilla Christi sum," "The Bird of Christ I am." She was a good-
looking girl, fat and comely, who would probably have led a comfortable
life in the world, for which she seemed well fitted; most likely without
one touch of romance or enthusiasm in her composition; but having the
unfortunate honour of being niece to two chanoines, she was thus honourably
provided for without expense in her nineteenth year. As might be expected,
her voice faltered, and instead of singing, she seemed inclined to cry out.
Each note came slowly, heavily, trembingly; and at last she nearly fell
forward exhausted, when two of the sisters caught and supported her.
I had almost made up my mind to see no more such scenes, which, unlike
pulque and bull-fights, I dislike more and more upon trial; when we
received an invitation, which it was not easy to refuse, but was the more
painful to accept, being acquainted, though slightly, with the victim. I
send you the printed note of invitation.
"On Wednesday, the----of this month, at six o'clock in the evening, my
daughter, Doña María de la Conception, P---e---, will assume the habit of a
nun of the choir and the black veil in the Convent of Our Lady of the
Incarnation. I have the honour to inform you of this, entreating you to
co-operate with your presence in the solemnity of this act, a favour which
will be highly esteemed by your affectionate servant, who kisses your hand.
"MARÍA JOSÉFA DE -----.
"Mexico, June---, 1840."
Having gone out in the carriage to pay some visits, I suddenly recollected
that it was the very morning of the day in which this young girl was to
take the veil, and also that it was necessary to inquire where I was to be
placed; for as to entering the church with the crowd on one of these
occasions, it is out of the question; particularly when the girl being, as
in the present case, of distinguished family, the ceremony is expected to
be peculiarly magnificent. I accordingly called at the house, was shown
upstairs, and to my horror, found myself in the midst of a "goodlie
companie," in rich array, consisting of the relations of the family, to the
number of about a hundred persons; the bishop himself in his purple robes
and amethysts, a number of priests, the father of the young lady in his
general's uniform; she herself in purple velvet, with diamonds and pearls,
and a crown of flowers; the _corsage_ of her gown entirely covered with
little bows of ribbon of divers colours, which her friends had given her,
each adding one, like stones thrown on a cairn in memory of the departed.
She had also short sleeves and white satin shoes.
Being very handsome, with fine black eyes, good teeth, and fresh colour,
and above all with the beauty of youth, for she is but eighteen, she was
not disfigured even by this overloaded dress. Her mother, on the contrary,
who was to act the part of Madrina, who wore a dress fac-simile, and who
was pale and sad, her eyes almost extinguished with weeping, looked like a
picture of misery in a balldress. In the adjoining room, long tables were
laid out, on which servants were placing refreshments for the fête about to
be given on this joyous occasion. I felt somewhat shocked, and inclined to
say with Paul Pry, "Hope I don't intrude." But my apologies were instantly
cut short, and I was welcomed with true Mexican hospitality; repeatedly
thanked for my kindness in coming to see the nun, and hospitably pressed to
join the family feast. I only got off upon a promise of returning at
half-past five to accompany them to the ceremony, which, in fact, I greatly
preferred to going there alone.
I arrived at the hour appointed, and being led upstairs by the Senator Don
-----, found the morning party, with many additions, lingering over the
dessert. There was some gaiety, but evidently forced. It reminded me of a
marriage feast previous to the departure of the bride, who is about to be
separated from her family for the first time. Yet how different in fact is
this banquet, where the mother and daughter met together for the last time
on earth!
At stated periods, indeed, the mother may hear her daughter's voice
speaking to her as from the depths of the tomb; but she may never more fold
her in her arms, never more share in her joys or in her sorrows, or nurse
her in sickness; and when her own last hour arrives, though but a few
streets divide them, she may not give her dying blessing to the child who
has been for so many years the pride of her eyes and heart.
I have seen no country where families are so knit together as in Mexico,
where the affections are so concentrated, or where such devoted respect and
obedience are shown by the married sons and daughters to their parents. In
that respect they always remain as little children. I know many families of
which the married branches continue to live in their father's house,
forming a sort of small colony, and living in the most perfect harmony.
They cannot bear the idea of being separated, and nothing but dire
necessity ever forces them to leave their _fatherland_. To all the accounts
which travellers give them of the pleasures to be met with in the European
capitals, they turn a deaf ear. Their families are in Mexico--their
parents, and sisters, and relatives--and there is no happiness for them
elsewhere. The greater therefore is the sacrifice which those parents make,
who from religious motives devote their daughters to a conventual life.
-----, however, was furious at the whole affair, which he said was entirely
against the mother's consent, though that of the father had been obtained;
and pointed out to me the confessor whose influence had brought it about.
The girl herself was now very pale, but evidently resolved to conceal her
agitation, and the mother seemed as if she could shed no more tears--quite
exhausted with weeping. As the hour for the ceremony drew near, the whole
party became more grave and sad, all but the priests, who were smiling and
talking together in groups. The girl was not still a moment. She kept
walking hastily through the house, taking leave of the servants, and naming
probably her last wishes about everything. She was followed by her younger
sisters, all in tears.
But it struck six, and the priests intimated that it was time to move. She
and her mother went downstairs alone, and entered the carriage which was to
drive them through all the principal streets, to show the nun to the public
according to custom, and to let them take their last look, they of her, and
she of them. As they got in, we all crowded to the balconies to see her
take leave of her house, her aunts saying, "Yes, child, _despídete de tu
casa_, take leave of your house, for you will never see it again!" Then
came sobs from the sisters, and many of the gentlemen, ashamed of their
emotion, hastily quitted the room. I hope, for the sake of humanity, I did
not rightly interpret the look of constrained anguish which the poor girl
threw from the window of the carriage at the home of her childhood.
They drove off, and the relations prepared to walk in procession to the
church. I walked with the Count S---o, the others followed in pairs. The
church was very brilliantly illuminated, and as we entered, the band was
playing one of _Strauss's_ waltzes! The crowd was so tremendous that we
were nearly squeezed to a jelly in getting to our places. I was carried off
my feet between two fat Señoras in mantillas and shaking diamond pendants,
exactly as if I had been packed between two moveable feather-beds.
They gave me, however, an excellent place, quite close to the grating,
beside the Countess de S---o, that is to say, a place to kneel on. A great
bustle and much preparation seemed to be going on within the convent, and
veiled figures were flitting about, whispering, arranging, etc. Sometimes a
skinny old dame would come close to the grating, and lifting up her veil,
bestow upon the pensive public a generous view of a very haughty and very
wrinkled visage of some seventy years standing, and beckon into the church
for the major-domo of the convent (an excellent and profitable situation by
the way), or for padre this or that. Some of the holy ladies recognised and
spoke to me through the grating.
But at the discharge of fireworks outside the church the curtain was
dropped, for this was the signal that the nun and her mother had arrived.
An opening was made in the crowd as they passed into the church, and the
girl, kneeling down, was questioned by the bishop, but I could not make out
the dialogue, which was carried on in a low voice. She then passed into the
convent by a side door, and her mother, quite exhausted and nearly in
hysterics, was supported through the crowd to a place beside us, in front
of the grating. The music struck up; the curtain was again drawn aside. The
scene was as striking here as in the convent of the Santa Teresa, but not
so lugubrious. The nuns, all ranged around, and carrying lighted tapers in
their hands, were dressed in mantles of bright blue, with a gold plate on
the left shoulder. Their faces, however, were covered with deep black
veils. The girl, kneeling in front, and also bearing a heavy lighted taper,
looked beautiful, with her dark hair and rich dress, and the long black
lashes resting on her glowing face. The churchmen near the illuminated and
magnificently-decked altar formed, as usual, a brilliant background to the
picture. The ceremony was the same as on the former occasion, but there was
no sermon.
The most terrible thing to witness was the last, straining, anxious look
which the mother gave her daughter through the grating. She had seen her
child pressed to the arms of strangers, and welcomed to her new home. She
was no longer hers. All the sweet ties of nature had been rudely severed,
and she had been forced to consign her, in the very bloom of youth and
beauty, at the very age in which she most required a mother's care, and
when she had but just fulfilled the promise of her childhood, to a living
tomb. Still, as long as the curtain had not fallen, she could gaze upon
her, as upon one on whom, though dead, the coffin-lid is not yet closed.
But while the new-made nun was in a blaze of light, and distinct on the
foreground, so that we could mark each varying expression of her face, the
crowd in the church, and the comparative faintness of the light, probably
made it difficult for her to distinguish her mother; for, knowing that the
end was at hand, she looked anxiously and hurriedly into the church,
without seeming able to fix her eyes on any particular object; while her
mother seemed as if her eyes were glazed, so intently were they fixed upon
her daughter.
Suddenly, and without any preparation, down fell the black curtain like a
pall, and the sobs and tears of the family broke forth. One beautiful
little child was carried out almost in fits. Water was brought to the poor
mother; and at last, making our way with difficulty through the dense
crowd, we got into the sacristy. "I declare," said the Countess ----- to
me, wiping her eyes, "it is worse than a marriage!" I expressed my horror
at the sacrifice of a girl so young, that she could not possibly have known
her own mind. Almost all the ladies agreed with me, especially all who had
daughters, but many of the old gentlemen were of a different opinion. The
young men were decidedly of my way of thinking; but many young girls, who
were conversing together, seemed rather to envy their friend, who had
looked so pretty and graceful, and "so happy," and whose dress "suited her
so well," and to have no objection to "go, and do likewise."
I had the honour of a presentation to the bishop, a fat and portly prelate,
with good manners, and well besuiting his priestly garments. I amused
myself, while we waited for the carriages, by looking over a pamphlet which
lay on the table, containing the ceremonial of the veil-taking. When we
rose to go, all the ladies of the highest rank devoutly kissed the bishop's
hand; and I went home, thinking by what law of God a child can thus be
dragged from the mother who bore and bred her, and immured in a cloister
for life, amongst strangers, to whom she has no tie, and towards whom she
owes no duty. That a convent may be a blessed shelter from the calamities
of life, a haven for the unprotected, a resting-place for the weary, a safe
and holy asylum, where a new family and kind friends await those whose
natural ties are broken and whose early friends are gone, I am willing to
admit; but it is not in the flower of youth that the warm heart should be
consigned to the cold cloister. Let the young take their chance of sunshine
or of storm: the calm and shady retreat is for helpless and unprotected old
age.
-----, to whom I described one of these ceremonies, wrote some verses,
suggested by my account of them, which I send you.
In tropic gorgeousness, the Lord of Day
To the bright chambers of the west retired,
And with the glory of his parting ray
The hundred domes of Mexico he fired,
When I, with vague and solemn awe inspired,
Entered the Incarnation's sacred fane.
The vaulted roof, the dim aisle far retired,
Echoed the deep-toned organ's holy strain,
Which through the incensed air did mournfully complain.
The veiling curtain suddenly withdrew,
Op'ning a glorious altar to the sight,
Where crimson intermixed its regal hue
With gold and jewels that outblazed the light
Of the huge tapers near them flaming bright
From golden stands--the bishop, mitre-crowned,
Stood stately near--in order due around
The sisterhood knelt down, their brows upon the ground.
The novice entered: to her doom she went,
Gems on her robes, and flowers upon her brow.
Virgin of tender years, poor innocent!
Pause, ere thou speak th' irrevocable vow.
What if thy heart should change, thy spirit fail?
She kneels. The black-robed sisters cease to bow.
They raise a hymn which seems a funeral wail,
While o'er the pageant falls the dark, lugubrious veil.
Again the veil is up. On earth she lies,
With the drear mantle of the pall spread o'er.
The new-made nun, the living sacrifice,
Dead to this world of ours for evermore!
The sun his parting rays has ceased to pour,
As loth to lend his light to such a scene....
The sisters raise her from the sacred floor,
Supporting her their holy arms between;
The mitred priest stands up with patriarchal mien.
And speaks the benediction; all is done.
A life-in-death must her long years consume
She clasped her new-made sisters one by one.
As the black shadows their embraces gave
They seemed like spectres from their place of doom.
Stealing from out eternal night's blind cave,
To meet their comrade new, and hail her to the grave.
The curtain fell again, the scene was o'er,
The pageant gone--its glitter and its pride,
And it would be a pageant and no more,
But for the maid miscalled the Heavenly Bride.
If I, an utter stranger, unallied
To her by slightest ties, some grief sustain,
What feels the yearning mother, from whose side
Is torn the child whom she hath reared in vain,
To share her joys no more, no more to sooth her pain!
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIRST
San Agustin--The Gambling Fête--The Beauties of the Village--The Road from
Mexico--Entry to San Agustin--The Gambling Houses--San Antonio--The
Pedregal--Last Day of the Fête--The Cock-pit--The Boxes--The Cock-fight--
Decorum--Comparisons--Dinner--Ball at Calvario--House of General Moran--
View of the Gambling-tables--The Advocate--Ball at the Plaza de Gallos--
Return to Mexico--Reflections--Conversation between two Ministers.
15th June.
Since my last letter we have been at San Agustin de las Cuevas, which, when
I last saw it, was a deserted village, but which during three days in the
year presents the appearance of a vast bee-hive or ant-hill. San Agustin!
At the name how many hearts throb with emotion! How many hands are
mechanically thrust into empty pockets! How many visions of long-vanished
golden ounces flit before aching eyes! What faint crowing of wounded cocks!
What tinkling of guitars and blowing of horns come upon the ear! Some,
indeed, there be, who can look round upon their well-stored hacienda and
easy-rolling carriages, and remember the day, when with threadbare coat,
and stake of three modest ounces, they first courted Fortune's favours, and
who, being then indigent, and enjoying an indifferent reputation, found
themselves, at the conclusion of a few successive San Agustins, the
fortunate proprietors of gold, and land, and houses; and, moreover, with an
unimpeachable fame; for he who can fling gold-dust in his neighbour's eyes,
prevents him from seeing too clearly. But these favourites of the blind
goddess are few and far between; and they have for the most part, with a
view to greater security, become holders or sharers of banks at San
Agustin, thus investing their fortune in a secure fund; more so decidedly,
if we may believe the newspaper reports, than in the bank of the United
States at this present writing.
Time, in its revolutions whirling all things out of their places, has made
no change in the annual fête of San Agustin. Fashions alter. The graceful
mantilla gradually gives place to the ungraceful bonnet. The old painted
coach, moving slowly like a caravan, with Guide's Aurora painted on its
gaudy panels, is dismissed for the London-built carriage. Old customs have
passed away. The ladies no longer sit on the door-sills, eating roast duck
with their fingers, or with the aid of tortillas. Even the Chinampas have
become stationary, and have occasionally joined the continent. But the
annual fête of San Agustin is built on a more solid foundation than taste
or custom, or floating soil. It is founded upon that love of gambling,
which is said to be a passion inherent in our nature, and which is
certainly impregnated with the Mexican constitution, in man, woman, and
child. The beggars gamble at the corners of the streets or under the
arches; the little boys gamble in groups in the villages; the coachmen and
footmen gamble at the doors of the theatre while waiting for their masters.
But while their hand is thus _kept in_ all the year round, there are three
days sacredly set apart annually, in which every accommodation is given to
those who are bent upon ruining themselves or their neighbours; whilst
every zest that society can afford, is held out to render the temptation
more alluring. As religion is called in to sanctify everything, right or
wrong; as the robber will plant a cross at the mouth of his cave, and the
pulque-shops do occasionally call themselves "Pulquerias of the Most Holy
Virgin," so this season of gambling is fixed for the fête of _Pascua_
(Whitsunday), and the churches and the gambling-houses are thrown open
simultaneously.
The village is in itself pretty and picturesque; and, as a stone at its
entry informs us, was built by the active Viceroy Revillagigedo, with the
product, as ----- assured us, of two lotteries. It is charmingly situated,
in the midst of handsome villas and orchards, whose high walls, overtopped
by fruit-trees, border the narrow lanes. At this season the trees are
loaded with the yellow _chabacano_ and the purple plum, already ripe; while
the pear-trees are bending under the weight of their fruit. The gardens are
full of flowers; the roses in their last bloom, covering the crowd with
their pink leaves, and jasmine and sweetpeas in profusion, making the air
fragrant. The rainy season has scarce set in, though frequent showers have
laid the dust, and refreshed the air. The country villas are filled with
all that is gayest and most distinguished in Mexico, and every house and
every room in the village has been hired for months in advance. The ladies
are in their most elegant toilets, and looking forward to a delightful
whirl of dancing, cock-fighting, gambling, dining, dressing, and driving
about.
The high-road leading from Mexico to San Agustin is covered with vehicles
of every description; carriages, diligences, hackney-coaches, carts, and
carratelas. Those who are not fortunate enough to possess any wheeled
conveyance, come out on horse, ass, or mule; single, double, or treble, if
necessary; and many hundreds, with visions of silver before their eyes, and
a few _clacos_ (pence), hid under their rags, trudge out on foot. The
President himself, in carriage-and-six, and attended by his aides-de-camp,
sanctions by his presence the amusements of the fête. The Mexican generals
and other officers follow in his wake, and the gratifying spectacle may not
unfrequently be seen, of the president leaning from his box in the _plaza
de gallos_, and betting upon a cock, with a coatless, bootless, hatless,
and probably worthless ragamuffin in the pit. Every one, therefore, however
humble his degree, has the pleasure, while following his speculative
inclinations, of reflecting that he treads in the steps of the magnates of
the land; and, as Sam Weller would say, "Vot a consolation that must be to
his feelings!"
At all events, nothing can be gayer than the appearance of the village, as
your carriage makes its way through the narrow lanes into the principal
plaza, amidst the assembled crowd of coaches and foot-passengers; though
the faces of the people bear evidence that pleasure alone has not brought
them to San Agustin. All round the square are the gambling-houses, where
for three nights and three days every table is occupied. At the principal
_montes_ nothing is played but gold, but as there is accommodation for all
classes, so there are silver tables in the inferior houses, while outside
are rows of tables on which are heaps of copper, covered with a rugged
awning, and surrounded by léperos and blanketed Indians, playing monta in
imitation of their betters, though on a scale more suited to their
finances.
Having left Mexico early in the morning, we stopped to breakfast at San
Antonio, a noble hacienda, about four leagues from Mexico, belonging to the
Dowager Marquesa de Vivanco, where we breakfasted with a large party. It is
a fine solid mass of building, and as you enter the courtyard, through a
deep archway, the great outhouses, stables, and especially the granary,
look like remains of feudalism, they are on so large and magnificent a
scale. It is an immense and valuable property, producing both maize and
maguey, and the hospitality of the family, who are amongst our earliest
friends here, is upon as large a scale as everything that belongs to them.
We had a splendid breakfast, in a fine old hall, and stayed but a short
time to visit the gardens and the chapel, as we were anxious to arrive at
San Agustin in time for the cock-fight.
It is singular, that while San Agustin is situated in the midst of the most
fertile and productive country, there should lie opposite to it, and
bounded as it were by the graceful Peruvian trees and silver poplars which
surround a small church on the other side of the high road, a great tract
of black lava, steril, bleak, and entirely destitute of vegetation, called
the _Pedregal_. This covers the country all along to San Agustin and to the
base of the mountain of Ajusco, which lies behind it, contrasting strangely
with the beautiful groves and gardens in its neighbourhood, and looking as
if it had been cursed for some crime committed there. The high-road, which
runs nearly in a direct line from the hacienda to San Agustin, is broad and
in tolerable repair; but before arriving there, it is so little attended
to, that during the rainy season it might be passed in canoes; yet this
immense formation of ferruginous larva and porphyritic rock lies
conveniently in its vicinity. A large sum, supposed to be employed in
mending the road, is collected annually at the toll, close to San Antonio.
For each carriage two dollars are asked, and for carts and animals in
proportion. The proprietor of this toll or _postazgo_ is also the owner of
the plaza de gallos, where a dollar is paid for entry, the sums produced by
which go exclusively to enrich the same individual. The government has no
advantage from it...
The last day of the fête is considered the best, and it is most crowded on
that day, both by families from Mexico and by foreigners who go solely for
pleasure, though not unfrequently tempted to do a little business on their
own account. In fact, the temptations are great; and it must be difficult
for a young man to withstand them.
We went to the _gallos_ about three o'clock. The plaza was crowded, and the
ladies in their boxes looked like a parterre of different-coloured flowers.
But whilst the Señoras in their boxes did honour to the fête by their
brilliant toilet, the gentlemen promenaded round the circle in jackets,
high and low being on the same _curtailed_ footing, and certainly in a
style of dress more befitting the exhibition. The president and his suite
were already there, also several of the foreign Ministers.
Meanwhile, the cocks crowed valiantly, bets were adjusted, and even the
women entered into the spirit of the scene, taking bets with the gentlemen
_sotto voce_ in their boxes, upon such and such favourite animal. As a
small knife is fastened to the leg of each cock, the battle seldom lasted
long, one or other falling every few minutes in a pool of blood. Then there
was a clapping of hands, mingled with the loud crowing of some unfortunate
cock, who was giving himself airs previous to a combat where he was
probably destined to crow his last. It has a curious effect to European
eyes, to see young ladies of good family, looking peculiarly feminine and
gentle, sanctioning, by their presence, this savage diversion. It is no
doubt the effect of early habit, and you will say that at least it is no
worse than a bull-fight; which is certain--yet cruel as the latter is, I
find something more _en grande_, more noble, in the
"Ungentle sport, that oft invites
The Spanish maid, and cheers the Spanish swain;"
in the roaring of the "lord of lowing herds," the galloping of the fine
horses, the skill of the riders, the gay dresses, the music, and the agile
matador; in short, in the whole pomp and circumstances of the combat, than
when one looks quietly on to see two birds peck each other's eyes out, and
cut each other to pieces. Unlike cock-pits in other countries, attended by
blacklegs and pickpockets and gentlemanly _roues_, by far the largest
portion of the assembly in the pit was composed of the first young men in
Mexico, and for that matter, of the first old ones also. There was neither
confusion, nor noise, nor even loud talking, far less swearing, amongst the
lowest of those assembled in the ring; and it is this quiet and orderly
behaviour which throws over all these incongruities a cloak of decency and
decorum, that hides their impropriety so completely, that even foreigners
who have lived here a few years, and who were at first struck with
astonishment by these things, are now quite reconciled to them.
As far as the company went, it might have been the House of Representatives
in Washington; the ladies in the gallery listening to the debates, and the
members in the body of the house surrounding Messrs.----- and -----, or any
other two vehement orators; applauding their biting remarks and cutting
sarcasms, and encouraging them to crow over each other. The president might
have been the speaker, and the corps diplomatique represented itself.
We had an agreeable dinner at the E---s, and afterwards accompanied them to
the Calvario, a hill where there was a ball _al fresco_, which was rather
amusing, and then paid a visit to the family of General Moran, who has a
beautiful house and gardens in the neighbourhood. We found a large party
assembled, and amongst them the president. Afterwards, accompanied by the
----- Minister, and the ladies of our party, we went to take a view of the
gambling-tables, and opened our eyes at the heaps of gold, which changed
owners every minute. I saw C---a, a millionaire, win and lose a thousand
ounces apparently with equal indifference. A little advocate having won two
thousand five hundred ounces, wisely ordered his carriage and set off for
Mexico, with the best _fee_ he had ever received in his life. Ladies do not
generally look on at the tables, but may if they please, and especially if
they be strangers. Each gambling-room was well fitted up, and looked like a
private apartment.
We then returned home and dressed for the ball, which was given in the
evening in the plaza de gallos. We first went upstairs to a box, but I
afterwards took the advice of M. de ----- and came down to see the dancers.
There were ladies in full dress, and gentlemen in white jackets--rather
inconsistent. The company, though perfectly quiet and well-behaved, were
not very select, and were, on that account, particularly amusing. Madame
de ----- and I walked about, and certainly laughed much more than we should
have done in a more distinguished society.
About two in the morning we returned to Mexico, and as I this moment
receive a note from the American Minister, informing me that the packet
from Vera Cruz is about to sail, I shall send off my letters now; and
should we still be here next year, I shall then give you a more detailed
description of the fête, of the ball, both at Calvario and in the cock-pit,
and also of the "high life below stairs" gambling, at which the scenes are
_impayable_. In one respect the fashions of San Agustin are altered from
what they were a few years ago, when the Señoras used to perform five
elaborate and distinct toilets daily; the first in the morning, the second
for the cockfight, the third for the dinner, the fourth for the ball on the
hill of Calvary, and the fifth for the ball in the evening. I am told that
as they danced in the open air, on the hill, with all their diamonds and
pearls on, in the midst of an immense concourse of people, a great many
jewels were constantly lost, which the _léperos_ used afterwards to search
for, and pick up from the grass; a rich harvest. Though they still dress a
great deal, they are contented with changing their toilet twice, or at the
most, three times in the course of the day.
Upon the whole, these three days are excessively amusing, and as all ranks
and conditions are mingled, one sees much more variety than at a ball in
the city.
On their way home, C---n and Señor ----- discussed the effects likely to be
produced on the morals of the people by this fête. Señor -----, like nearly
all the wisest men here, persists in considering gambling an innocent
amusement, and declares, that at all events, this fête ought never to be
done away with. In his opinion, it conduces to the happiness of the people,
gives them an annual pleasure to look forward to, and by the mingling of
all ranks which then takes place, keeps up a good feeling between the
higher and lower orders. C---n asked him why, if such was the case, the
government did not at least endeavour to draw some advantage from it, after
the manner of the Count de Revillagigedo--why, as the bank, by the nature
of the game, has, besides a great capital, which swallows up all the
smaller ones, an immense profit, amounting to twenty-five per cent., they
do not make the bankers pay four or five per cent., and charge half a
dollar or more to each individual who enters to gamble; with which money
they might beautify the village, make a public _pasoe_, a good road, a
canal to Mexico, etc.
I thought that whatever the government might feel on this subject, neither
the bankers nor the gamblers would relish the insinuation. I shall write in
a few days by the Baron de -----, Minister from -----, who leaves Mexico in
a fortnight.
LETTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
Countess C---a--Gutierrez Estrada--Dinner at General Moran's--Dowager
Marquesa--Fête at San Antonio--Approach of the Rainy Season--Diamonds and
Plate--Great Ball--Night Travelling--Severe Storm--Chapter of Accidents--
Corpus Christi--Poblana Dress--Book-club--Ball--Humming-bird--Franciscan
Friar--Missions to Old and New California--Zeal and Endurance of the
Missionaries--Present Condition--Convent Gardener.
17th June.
As we dine nearly every Sunday with the Countess de la C---a at Tacubay,
where she keeps open house to all her friends, we have had the pleasure of
becoming intimately acquainted with her son-in-law, Señor Gutierrez
Estrada, who, with his amiable wife, has lately returned from Europe.
Fête at San Antonio
A great dinner was given us the other day by General Moran and his lady the
Marquesa de Vivanco, at San Agustin. We went early that we might have time
to walk about the garden, which is beautiful, and to visit an artificial
cave there, which we found lighted up with coloured lamps, and where a most
fascinating species of cold milk punch, with cakes, was served to the
company. The dinner would certainly have been superb in any country; the
family have travelled a great deal in Europe, (_per force_, the general
having been exiled for several years,) and are amongst the oldest and
richest in Mexico. The dowager marquesa has a most patriarchal family of
daughters and grand-daughters, and of the large party assembled at table,
nearly all were composed of its different members. In the evening we had a
pleasant dance under the trees.
20th.--Being invited yesterday to a fête at San Antonio, we left Mexico
about eight o'clock, by the great causeway leading to San Agustin. The day
was peculiarly brilliant, but the rainy season is now announcing its
approach by frequent showers towards evening. We found a large party
assembled, and about twelve o'clock sat down to a most magnificent
breakfast of about sixty persons. Everything was solid silver; even the
plates. A vast capital is sunk in diamonds and plate in this country, no
good sign of the state of commerce. The ladies in general were dressed in
white embroidered muslins, over white or coloured satin, and one or two
Paris dresses shone conspicuous. There was one specimen of real Mexican
beauty; the Señora---, a face perhaps more Indian than Spanish, very dark,
with fine eyes, beautiful teeth, very long dark hair, and full of
expression. The house, which is immensely large, is furnished, or rather
unfurnished, in the style of all Mexican haciendas. After breakfast, we had
music, dancing, walking, and billiard-playing. Some boleros were very
gracefully danced by a daughter of the marquesa's, and they also showed us
some dances of the country. The fête terminated with the most beautiful
supper I almost ever saw. A great hall was lighted with coloured lamps, the
walls entirely lined with green branches, and hung with fresh garlands of
flowers most tastefully arranged. There was a great deal of gaiety and
cordiality, of magnificence without ceremony, and riches without
pretension. Although warned by various showers that a bad night would
probably set in, and although it was too likely that the hospitality within
the house would be extended to our coachmen, and even though the whole
party were strongly pressed by the marquesa to pass the night there, so
that it was with difficulty we resisted her entreaties to remain, we did,
in the face of all this, set off at twelve o'clock at night to return to
Mexico; about seven carriages together, with various gentlemen riding.
Though very dark there was no rain, and we flattered ourselves it would
keep fair till we reached the city. The Minister of the interior, who is
married to a daughter of the marquesa, C---n and I, and La Guera Rodriguez,
set off in one carriage. Some carriages had lamps, others had none. Some
had six horses; we had six mules, and an escort of dragoons. We had not
gone two miles before a thunderstorm came on; and the black clouds which
had been gathering above our heads burst forth in torrents of rain. The
wind was tremendous. All the lamps were extinguished. The horses waded up
to their knees in mud--and water. Suddenly there was a crash, followed by
loud cries. A carriage was overturned, in which were the Señora L---- and a
party of gentlemen. In the midst of this awful storm, and perhaps still
more bewildered by generous liquor, their coachman had lost his way, and
lodged them all in a ditch. The poor Señora was dreadfully bruised, her
head cut, and her wrist dislocated. In the darkness and confusion she was
extricated with difficulty, and placed in another carriage.
Our mules stood still. As far as the noise of the storm would allow us to
hear, we made out that our coachman also had lost the road. Two dragoons
rode up to direct him. One fell, horse and all, into a deep ditch, where he
remained till the next morning. Another carriage came ploughing its way
behind us. Another exclamation in the darkness! A mule had fallen and
broken his traces, and plunged into the water. The poor animal could not be
found. Never was there such a chapter of accidents. We were the only
carriage-load which escaped entirely, owing chiefly to the sobriety of the
coachman. Very slowly and after sundry detentions, we arrived in Mexico
towards morning, very tired, but with neither broken bones nor bruises.
18th.--Day of the Corpus Christi, in which the host is carried through the
city in great procession at which the president, in full uniform, the
archbishop, and all the Ministers, etc., assist. In former days this
ceremony took place on Holy Thursday; but finding that, on account of the
various ceremonies of the holy week, it could not be kept with due
solemnity, another day was set apart for its celebration. We went to a
window in the square, to see the procession, which was very brilliant; all
the troops out, and the streets crowded. Certainly, a stranger entering
Mexico on one of these days would be struck with surprise at its apparent
wealth. Everything connected with the church is magnificent.
This evening the Señora A---- came after it was dark, in a Poblana dress,
which she had just bought to wear at a _Jamaica_, which they are going to
have in the country--a sort of fair, where all the girls disguise
themselves in peasants' dresses, and go about selling fruit, lemonade,
vegetables, etc., to each other--a very ancient Mexican amusement. This
dress cost her some hundred dollars. The top of the petticoat is yellow
satin; the rest, which is of scarlet cashmere, is embroidered in gold and
silver. Her hair was fastened back with a thick silver comb, and her
ornaments were very handsome, coral set in gold. Her shoes white satin,
embroidered in gold; the sleeves and body of the chemise, which is of the
finest cambric, trimmed with rich lace; and the petticoat, which comes
below the dress, shows two flounces of Valenciennes. She looks beautiful in
this dress, which will not be objected to in the country, though it might
not suit a fancy ball in Mexico.
June 27th.--I was awakened this morning by hearing that two boxes had
arrived from New York, containing books, letters, etc.; all very
acceptable. We also received a number of old newspapers by post, for which
we had to pay eighteen dollars! Each sheet costs a real and a half--a
mistaken source of profit in a republic, where the general diffusion of
knowledge is of so much importance, for this not only applies to the
introduction of French and English, but also of Spanish newspapers. Señors
Gutierrez Estrada and Canedo used every effort to reduce this duty on
newspapers, but in vain. The post-office opposes its reduction, fearing to
be deprived of an imaginary rent--imaginary, because so few persons,
comparatively, think it worth their while to go to this expense. There is
but one daily newspaper in Mexico, "La Gazeta del Gobierno" (the government
paper), and it is filled with orders and decrees. An opposition paper, the
"Cosmopolita," is published twice a week; also a Spanish paper, the
"Hesperia;" both (especially the last) are well written. There is also the
"Mosquito," so called from its stinging sarcasms. Now and then another with
a new title appears, like a shooting star, but, from want of support, or
from some other motive, is suddenly extinguished.
Enlightened individuals like Don Lucas Alaman and Count Cortina have
published newspapers, but not for any length of time. Count Cortina,
especially, edited a very witty and brilliant paper called the "Zurriago,"
the "Scourge," and another called the "Mono," the "Ape;" and in many of his
articles he was tolerably severe upon the incorrect Spanish of his brother
editors, of which no one can be a better judge, he having been a member of
the "Academia de la Lengua," in Spain.
The only kind of monthly review in Mexico is the "Mosaico Megicano," whose
editor has made his fortune by his own activity and exertions. Frequently
it contains more translations than original matter; but from time to time
it publishes scientific articles, said to be written by Don J. M.
Bustamante, which are very valuable, and occasionally a brilliant article
from the pen of Count Cortina. General Orbegoso, who is of Spanish origin,
is also a contributor. Sometimes, though rarely, it publishes "documentos
ineditos" (unedited documents), connected with Mexican antiquities, and
Mexican natural history and biography, which are very important; and now
and then it contains a little poetical gem, I know not whether original or
not, but exceedingly beautiful. So far as it goes, this review is one great
means of spreading know-ledge, at least amongst the better classes; but I
understand that the editor, Don Ygnacio Cumplido, a very courteous,
intelligent man, complains that it does not pay.
There are no circulating libraries in Mexico. Books are at least double the
price that they are in Europe. There is no diffusion of useful knowledge
amongst the people; neither cheap pamphlets nor cheap magazines written for
their amusement or instruction; but this is less owing to want of attention
to their interests on the part of many good and enlightened men, than to
the unsettled state of the country; for the blight of civil war prevents
the best systems from ripening.
Fortunately, there is an English society here, a kind of book-club, who,
with their Minister, have united in a subscription to order from England
all the new publications, and as C---n is a member of this society, we are
not so _arrieres_ in regard to the literature of the day as might be
supposed. Like all English societies, its basis is a good dinner, which
each member gives in turn, once a month, after which there is a sale of the
books that have been read, and propositions for new books are given in to
the president. It is an excellent plan, and I believe is in part adopted by
other foreigners here. But Germans of a certain class do not seem to be
sufficiently numerous for such an undertaking, and the French in Mexico,
barring some distinguished exceptions, are apt to be amongst the very worst
specimens of that people which "le plaisant pays de France" can furnish
forth.
We went lately to a ball given by a young Englishman, which was very
pretty, and where nearly all the English were collected. Of families, there
are not more than half a dozen resident here, the members of whom form a
striking contrast in complexion to the _Mexicanas_. With very few
exceptions (and these in the case of English women married to foreigners);
they keep themselves entirely aloof from the Mexicans, live quietly in
their own houses, into which they have transplanted as much English
comfort as possible, rarely travel, and naturally find Mexico the dullest of
cities. C---n has gone to dine with the English Minister, and I am left
alone in this large room, with nothing but a humming-bird to keep me
company; the last of my half-dozen. It looks like a large blue fly, and is
perfectly tame, but will not live many days.
I was startled by a solemn voice, saying, "Ave María Purissima!" And
looking up there stood in the doorway a "friar of orders gray," bringing
some message to C---n from the head of the convent of San Fernando, with
which monks C---n has formed a great intimacy, chiefly in consequence of
the interest which he has taken in the history of their missions to
California.
In fact, when we hear the universal cry that is raised against these
communities for the inutility of their lives, it is but just that
exceptions should be made in favour of those orders, who, like the monks of
San Fernando, have dispersed their missionaries over some of the most
miserable parts of the globe, and who, undeterred by danger, and by the
prospect of death, have carried light to the most benighted savages. These
institutions are of a very remote date. A learned Jesuit monk, Eusebio
Kuhn, is said to have been the first who discovered that California was a
peninsula. In 1683 the Jesuits had formed establishments in old California,
and for the first time it was made known that the country which had until
then been considered an El Dorado, rich in all precious metals and
diamonds, was arid, stony, and without water or earth fit for vegetation;
that where there is a spring of water it is to be found amongst the bare
rocks, and where there is earth there is no water. A few spots were found
by these industrious men, uniting these advantages, and there they founded
their first missions.
But the general hatred with which the Jesuits were regarded, excited
suspicion against them, and it was generally supposed that their accounts
were false, and that they were privately becoming possessed of much
treasure. A _visitador_ (surveyor) was sent to examine into the truth, and
though he could discover no traces of gold or silver, he was astonished by
the industry and zeal with which they had cultivated the barren and
treeless waste. In a few years they had built sixteen villages, and when
they were expelled, in 1767, the Dominican friars of Mexico took their
place.
Until these missions were established, and in every part of the peninsula
which is not included in the territory of the missions, the savages were
the most degraded specimens of humanity existing. More degraded than the
beasts of the field, they lay all day upon their faces on the arid sand,
basking in the heat; they abhorred all species of clothing, and their only
religion was a secret horror that caused them to tremble at the idea of
three divinities, belonging to three different tribes, and which divinities
were themselves supposed to feel a mortal hatred, and to wage perpetual war
against each other.
Undeterred by the miserable condition both of human and of vegetable
nature, these missionaries cultivated the ground, established colonies,
made important astronomical observations, and devoted themselves to
science, to agriculture, and to the amelioration of the condition of these
wretched savages.
In New California, the missions were under the charge of thirty-six
Franciscan friars, under whom the most extraordinary progress in
civilization took place; since in little more than thirty years, upwards of
thirty-three thousand Indians were baptized, and eight thousand marriages
had taken place. The soil being fertile and the climate more benign than in
the other California, in eighteen missions established there, they
cultivated corn, wheat, maize, etc., and introduced vegetables and
fruit-trees from Spain; amongst these the vine and the olive, from which
excellent wine and oil were made all through that part of the country.
Amongst the monks destined to these distant missions were those of San
Fernando. There, banished from the world, deprived of all the advantages of
civilization, they devoted themselves to the task of _taming_ the wild
Indians, introduced marriage amongst them, taught them to cultivate the
ground, together with some of the most simple arts; assisted their wants,
reproved their sins, and transplanted the beneficent doctrines of
Christianity amongst them, using no arms but the influence which religion
and kindness, united with extreme patience, had over their stubborn
natures; and making what Humboldt, in speaking of the Jesuit missions,
calls "a pacific conquest" of the country.
Many were the hardships which these poor men endured; changed from place to
place; at one time ordered to some barren shore, where it was necessary to
recommence their labours,--at another, recalled to the capital by orders of
the prelate, in conjunction with the wishes of their brethren, among whom
there was a species of congress, called by them a _capitulo_. No increase
of rank, no reward, no praise, inspired their labours; their only
recompense was their intimate conviction of doing good to their
fellow-creatures.
In the archives of the convent there still exist papers, proving the
hardships which these men underwent; the zeal with which they applied
themselves to the study of the languages of the country; (and when we are
informed that in the space of one hundred and eighty leagues, nineteen
different languages are spoken, it was no such easy task;) and containing
their descriptions of its physical and moral state, more or less well
written, according to their different degrees of instruction or talent.
It frequently happened that marketable goods and even provisions had to be
sent by sea to those missionaries who lived in the most savage and
uncultivated parts of the peninsula; and a curious anecdote on this subject
was related to C---n by one of these men, who is now a gardener by
profession. It happened that some one sent to the monks, amongst other
things, a case of fine Malaga raisins; and one of the monks, whose name I
forget, sowed a number of the dried seeds. In process of time they sprouted
up, became vines, and produced fine grapes, from which the best wine in
California was made.
When the independence was declared, and that revolutionary fury which makes
a merit of destroying every establishment, good or bad, which is the work
of the opposite party, broke forth; the Mexicans, to prove their hatred to
the mother-country, destroyed these beneficent institutions; thus
committing an error as fatal in its results as when in 1828 they expelled
so many rich proprietors, who were followed into exile by their numerous
families and by their old servants, who gave them in these times of trouble
proofs of attachment and fidelity belonging to a race now scarcely existing
here, except amongst a few of the oldest families.
The result has been, that the frontiers, being now unprotected by the
military garrisons or _presidios_, which were established there, and
deserted by the missionaries, the Indians are no longer kept under
subjection, either by the force of arms or by the good counsels and
persuasive influence of their padres. The Mexican territory is, in
consequence, perpetually exposed to their invasions--whole families are
massacred by the savages, who exchange guns for rifles, which they already
know how to use, and these evil consequences are occasionally and
imperfectly averted at a great expense to the republic. Bustamante has
indeed been making an investigation lately as to the funds and general
condition of these establishments, with the intention of re-establishing
some similar institutions; but as yet I believe that nothing decisive has
been done in this respect....
Near the convent there is a beautiful garden, where we sometimes walk in
the morning, cultivated by an old monk, who, after spending a laborious
life in these distant missions, is now enjoying a contented old age among
his plants and flowers. Perhaps you are tired of my _prosing_ (caused by
the apparition of the old lay-brother), and would prefer some account of
him in verse.
An aged monk in San Fernando dwells,
An innocent and venerable man;
His earlier days were spent within its cells.
And end obscurely as they first began.
Manhood's career in savage climes he ran,
On lonely California's Indian shore--
Dispelling superstition's deadly ban,
Or teaching (what could patriot do more?)
Those rudiments of peace, the gardener's humble store.
Oft have I marked him, silent and apart,
Loitering near the sunny convent-gate,
Rewarded by tranquillity of heart
For toils so worthy of the truly great;
And in my soul admired, compared his state
With that of some rude brawler, whose crude mind
Some wondrous change on earth would fain create;
Who after flatt'ring, harassing mankind,
Gains titles, riches, pomp, with shame and scorn combined.
LETTER THE TWENTY-THIRD
The President--Yturbide--Visit from the Archbishop--Señor Canedo
--General Almonte--Señor Cuevas--Situation of an Archbishop in Mexico--Of
Señor Posada--His Life--Mexican Charity--Wax Figures--Anecdote--Valuable
Present--Education--Comparison--Schools--Opportunities--Natural
Talent--Annual--Compliments to the Mexican Ladies by the Editor--Families
of the Old School--Morals--Indulgence--Manners--Love of Country--Colleges.
5th July.
Yesterday morning we had a visit from the president, with two of his
officers. He was riding one of the handsomest black horses I ever saw. On
going out we stopped to look at a wax figure of Yturbide on horseback,
which he considers a good resemblance, and which was sent me as a present
some time ago. He ought to be a good judge, as he was a most devoted friend
of the unfortunate Agustin I., who, whatever were his faults, seems to have
inspired his friends with the most devoted and enthusiastic attachment. In
the prime of life, brave and active, handsome and fond of show, he had all
the qualities which render a chief popular with the multitude; "but
popularity, when not based upon great benefits, is transient; it is founded
upon a principle of egotism, because a whole people cannot have personal
sympathies." Ambition led him to desert the royal cause which he had served
for nine years; and vanity blinded him to the dangers that surrounded him
in the midst of his triumphs, even when proclaimed emperor by the united
voice of the garrison and city of Mexico--when his horses were taken from
his carriage, and when, amidst the shouts of the multitude, his coach was
dragged in triumph to the palace. His great error, according to those who
talk of him impartially, was indecision in the most critical emergencies,
and his permitting himself to be governed by circumstances, instead of
directing these circumstances as they occurred.
I could not help thinking, as the general stood there looking at the waxen
image of his friend, what a stormy life he himself has passed; how little
real tranquillity he can ever have enjoyed, and wondering whether he will
be permitted to finish his presidential days in peace, which, according to
rumour, is doubtful.
8th.--I had the honour of a long visit this morning from his grace the
archbishop. He came about eleven o'clock, after mass, and remained till
dinner-time, sitting out all our Sunday visitors, who are generally
numerous, as it is the only day of rest for _employés_, and especially for
the cabinet. Amongst our visitors were Señor Canedo, who is extremely
agreeable in conversation, and as an orator famed for his sarcasm and
cutting wit. He has been particularly kind and friendly to us ever since
our arrival--General Almonte, Minister of War, a handsome man and pleasant,
and an officer of great bravery--very unpopular with one party and
especially disliked by the English, but also a great friend of ours. Señor
Cuevas, Minister of the Interior, married to a daughter of the Marquesa de
Vivanco, an amiable and excellent man, who seems generally liked, and is
also most friendly to us. All these gentlemen are praised or abused
according to the party of the person who speaks of them; but I not
interferring in Mexican politics, find them amongst the most pleasant of
our acquaintances.
However, were I to choose a situation here, it would undoubtedly be that of
Archbishop of Mexico, the most enviable in the world to those who would
enjoy a life of tranquillity, ease, and universal adoration. He is a pope
without the trouble, or a tenth part of the responsibility. He is venerated
more than the Holy Father is in enlightened Rome, and, like kings in the
good old times, can do no wrong. His salary amounts to about one hundred
thousand dollars, and a revenue might be made by the sweetmeats alone which
are sent him from all the nuns in the republic. His palace in town, his
well-cushioned carriage, well-conditioned horses, and sleek mules, seem the
very perfection of comfort. In fact, _comfort_, which is unknown amongst
the profane of Mexico, has taken refuge with the archbishop; and though
many drops of it are shed on the shaven heads of all bishops, curates,
confessors, and friars, still in his illustrious person it concentrates as
in a focus. He himself is a benevolent, good-hearted, good-natured, portly,
and jovial personage, with the most _laissez-aller_ air and expression
conceivable. He looks like one on whom the good things of this world have
fallen in a constant and benignant shower, which shower hath fallen on a
rich and fertile soil. He is generally to be seen leaning back in his
carriage, dressed in purple, with amethyst cross, and giving his
benediction to the people as he passes. He seems engaged in a pleasant
revery, and his countenance wears an air of the most placid and
_insouciant_ content. He enjoys a good dinner, good wine, and ladies'
society, but just sufficiently to make his leisure hours pass pleasantly,
without indigestion from the first, headaches from the second, or
heartaches from the third. So does his life seem to pass on like a deep
untroubled stream, on whose margin grow sweet flowers, on whose clear
waters the bending trees are reflected, but on whose placid face no lasting
impression is made.
I have no doubt that his charities are in proportion to his large fortune;
and when I say that I have no doubt of this, it is because I firmly believe
there exists no country in the world where charities, both public and
private, are practised on so noble a scale, especially by the women under
the direction of the priests. I am inclined to believe that, generally
speaking, charity is a distinguishing attribute of a Catholic country.
The archbishop is said to be a man of good information, and was at one time
a senator. In 1833, being comprehended in the law of banishment, caused by
the political disturbances which have never ceased to afflict this country
since the independence, he passed some time in the United States, chiefly
in New Orleans; but this, I believe, is the only cloud that has darkened
his horizon, or disturbed the tranquil current of his life. His
consecration, with its attendant fatigues, must have been to him a
wearisome overture to a pleasant drama, a hard stepping-stone to glory. As
to the rest, he is very unostentatious, and his conversation is far from
austere. On the contrary, he is one of the best-tempered and most cheerful
old men in society that it is possible to meet with....
I send you, by the Mexican commissioners, who are kind enough to take
charge of a box for me, the figure of a Mexican _tortillera_, by which you
may judge a little of the perfection in which the commonest _lépero_ here
works in wax. The incredible patience which enabled the ancient Mexicans to
work their statues in wood or stone with the rudest instruments, has
descended to their posterity, as well as their extraordinary and truly
Chinese talent for imitation. With a common knife and a piece of hard wood,
an uneducated man will produce a fine piece of sculpture. There is no
imagination. They do not leave the beaten track, but continue on the models
which the Spanish conquerors brought out with them, some of which, however,
were very beautiful.
In wax, especially, their figures have been brought to great perfection.
Everything that surrounds them they can imitate, and their wax portraits
are sometimes little gems of art; but in this last branch, which belongs to
a higher order of art, there are no good workmen at present.
_A propos_ to which, a poor artist brought some tolerable wax portraits
here for sale the other day, and, amongst others, that of a celebrated
general. C---n remarked that it was fairer than the original, as far as he
recollected. "Ah!" said the man, "but when his excellency _washes his
face_, nothing can be more exact." A valuable present was sent lately by a
gentleman here, to the Count de ----- in Spain; twelve cases, each case
containing twelve wax figures; each figure representing some Mexican trade,
or profession or employment. There were men drawing the pulque from the
maguey, Indian women selling vegetables, tortilleras, venders of ducks,
fruitmen, lard-sellers, the postman of Guachinango, loaded with parrots,
monkeys, etc.,--more of everything than of letters--the Poblana peasant,
the rancherita on horseback before her farm-servant, the gaily-dressed
ranchero, in short, a little history of Mexico in wax....
You ask me how Mexican women are educated. In answering you, I must put
aside a few brilliant exceptions, and speak _en masse_, the most difficult
thing in the world, for these exceptions are always rising up before me
like accusing angels, and I begin to think of individuals, when I should
keep to generalities. Generally speaking, then, the Mexican Señoras and
Señoritas write, read, and play a little, sew, and take care of their
houses and children. When I say they read, I mean they know how to read;
when I say they write, I do not mean that they can always spell; and when I
say they play, I do not assert that they have generally a knowledge of
music. If we compare their education with that of girls in England, or in
the United States, it is not a comparison, but a contrast. Compare it with
that of Spanish women, and we shall be less severe upon their _far niente_
descendants. In the first place, the climate inclines every one to
indolence, both physically and morally. One cannot pore over a book when
the blue sky is constantly smiling in at the open windows; then, out of
doors after ten o'clock, the sun gives us due warning of our tropical
latitude, and even though the breeze is so fresh and pleasant, one has no
inclination to walk or ride far. Whatever be the cause, I am convinced that
it is impossible to take the same exercise with the mind or with the body
in this country, as in Europe or in the northern states. Then as to
schools, there are none that can deserve the name, and no governesses.
Young girls can have no emulation, for they never meet. They have no public
diversion, and no private amusement. There are a few good foreign masters,
most of whom have come to Mexico for the purpose of making their fortune,
by teaching, or marriage, or both, and whose object, naturally, is to make
the most money in the shortest possible time, that they may return home and
enjoy it. The children generally appear to have an extraordinary
disposition for music and drawing, yet there are few girls who are
proficient in either.
When very young, they occasionally attend the schools, where boys and girls
learn to read in common, or any other accomplishment that the old women can
teach them; but at twelve they are already considered too old to attend
these promiscuous assemblages, and masters are got for drawing and music to
finish their education. I asked a lady the other day if her daughter went
to school. "Good heavens!" said she, quite shocked, "she is past eleven
years old!" It frequently happens that the least well-informed girls are
the children of the cleverest men, who, keeping to the customs of their
forefathers, are content if they confess regularly, attend church
constantly, and can embroider and sing a little. Where there are more
extended ideas, it is chiefly amongst families who have travelled in
Europe, and have seen the different education of women in foreign
countries. Of these the fathers occasionally devote a short portion of
their time to the instruction of their daughters, perhaps during their
leisure evening moments, but it may easily be supposed that this desultory
system has little real influence on the minds of the children. I do not
think there are above half-a-dozen married women, or as many girls above
fourteen, who, with the exception of the mass-book, read any one book
through in the whole course of the year. They thus greatly simplify the
system of education in the United States, where parties are frequently
divided between the advocates for solid learning and those for superficial
accomplishments; and according to whom it is difficult to amalgamate the
solid beef of science with the sweet sauce of _les beaux arts_.
But if a Mexican girl is ignorant, she rarely shows it. They have generally
the greatest possible tact; never by any chance wandering out of their
depth, or betraying by word or sign that they are not well informed of the
subject under discussion. Though seldom graceful, they are never awkward,
and always self-possessed. They have plenty of natural talent, and where it
has been thoroughly cultivated, no women can surpass them. Of what is
called literary society, there is of course none--
"No bustling Botherbys have they to show 'em
That charming passage in the last new poem."
There is a little annual lying beside me called "_Calendario de las
Señoritas Mejicanas_," of which the preface, by Galvan, the editor, is very
amusing.
"To none," he says, "better than to Mexican ladies, can I dedicate this
mark of attention--(_obsequio_). Their graceful attractions well deserve
any trouble that may have been taken to please them. Their bodies are
graceful as the palms of the desert; their hair black as ebony, or golden
as the rays of the sun, gracefully waves over their delicate shoulders;
their glances are like the peaceful light of the moon. The Mexican ladies
are not so white as the Europeans, but their whiteness is more agreeable to
our eyes. Their words are soft, leading our hearts by gentleness, in the
same manner as in their moments of just indignation they appal and confound
us. Who can resist the magic of their song, always sweet, always gentle,
and always natural? Let us leave to foreign ladies (_las ultramarinas_)
these affected and scientific manners of singing; here nature surpasses
art, as happens in everything, notwithstanding the cavillings of the
learned.
"And what shall I say of their souls? I shall say that in Europe the minds
are more cultivated, but in Mexico the hearts are more amiable. Here they
are not only sentimental, but tender; not only soft, but virtuous; the body
of a child is not more sensitive, (_no es mas sensible el cuerpo de un
niño_), nor a rose-bud softer. I have seen souls as beautiful as the
borders of the rainbow, and purer than the drops of dew. Their passions are
seldom tempestuous, and even then they are kindled and extinguished easily;
but generally they emit a peaceful light, like the morning star, Venus.
Modesty is painted in their eyes, and modesty is the greatest and most
irresistible fascination of their souls. In short, the Mexican ladies, by
their manifold virtues, are destined to serve as our support whilst we
travel through the sad desert of life.
"Well do these attractions merit that we should try to please them; and in
effect a new form, new lustre, and new graces have been given to the
'Almanac of the Mexican Ladies,' whom the editor submissively entreats to
receive with benevolence this small tribute due to their enchantments and
their virtues!"
There are in Mexico a few families of the old school, people of high rank,
but who mingle very little in society; who are little known to the
generality of foreigners, and who keep their daughters entirely at home,
that they may not be contaminated by bad example. These select few, rich
without ostentation, are certainly doing everything that is in their power
to remedy the evils occasioned by the want of proper schools, or of
competent instructresses for their daughters. Being nearly all allied by
birth, or connected by marriage, they form a sort of _clan_; and it is
sufficient to belong to one or other of these families, to be hospitably
received by all. They meet together frequently, without ceremony, and
whatever elements of good exist in Mexico, are to be found amongst them.
The fathers are generally men of talent and learning, and the mothers,
women of the highest respectability, to whose name no suspicion can be
attached.
But, indeed, it is long before a stranger even suspects the state of morals
in this country, for whatever be the private conduct of individuals, the
most perfect decorum prevails in outward behaviour. But indolence is the
mother of vice, and not only to little children might Doctor Watts have
asserted that
"Satan finds some mischief still,
For idle hands to do."
They are besides extremely _leal_ to each other, and with proper _esprit de
corps_, rarely gossip to strangers concerning the errors of their
neighbours' ways;--indeed, if such a thing is hinted at, deny all knowledge
of the fact. So long as outward decency is preserved, habit has rendered
them entirely indifferent as to the _liaisons_ subsisting amongst their
particular friends; and as long as a woman attends church regularly, is a
patroness of charitable institutions, and gives no scandal by her outward
behaviour, she may do pretty much as she pleases. As for flirtations in
public, they are unknown.
I must, however, confess that this indulgence on the part of women of
unimpeachable reputation is sometimes carried too far. We went lately to a
breakfast, at which was a young and beautiful countess, lately married, and
of very low birth. She looked very splendid, with all the ----- diamonds,
and a dress of rose-coloured satin. After breakfast we adjourned to another
room, where I admired the beauty of a little child who was playing about on
the floor, when this lady said, "Yes, she is very pretty--very like my
little girl, who is just the same age." I was rather surprised, but
concluded she had been a widow, and made the inquiry of an old French lady
who was sitting near me. "Oh, no!" said she--"she was never married before;
she alludes to the children she had before the count became acquainted with
her!" And yet the Señora de -----, the strictest woman in Mexico, was
loading her with attentions and caresses. I must say, however, that this
was a singular instance....
There are no women more affectionate in their manners than those of Mexico.
In fact, a foreigner, especially if he be an Englishman, and a shy man, and
accustomed to the coolness of his fair countrywomen, need only live a few
years here, and understand the language, and become accustomed to the
peculiar style of beauty, to find the Mexican Señoritas perfectly
irresistible.
And that this is so, may be judged of by the many instances of Englishmen
married to the women of this country, who _invariably_ make them excellent
wives. But when an Englishman marries here, he ought to settle here, for it
is very rare that a _Mexicaine_ can live out of her own country. They miss
the climate--they miss that warmth of manner, that universal cordiality by
which they are surrounded here. They miss the _laissez-aller_ and absence
of all etiquette in habits, toilet, etc. They find themselves surrounded by
women so differently educated, as to be doubly strangers to them, strangers
in feeling as well as in country. A very few instances there are of girls,
married very young, taken to Europe, and introduced into good society, who
have acquired European ways of thinking, and even prefer other countries to
their own; but this is so rare, as scarcely to form an exception. They are
true patriots, and the visible horizon bounds their wishes. In England
especially, they are completely out of their element. A language nearly
impossible for them to acquire, a religion which they consider heretical,
outward coldness covering inward warmth, a perpetual war between sun and
fog, etiquette carried to excess, an insupportable stiffness and order in
the article of the toilet; rebosos unknown, _cigaritos_ considered
barbarous.... They feel like exiles from paradise, and live but in hopes of
a speedy return.
As to the colleges for young men, although various projects of reform have
been made by enlightened men in regard to them, especially by Don Lucas
Alaman, and afterwards by Señor Gutierrez Estrada, and though to a certain
extent many of the plans were carried into effect, it is a universal source
of complaint among the most distinguished persons in Mexico, that in order
to give their sons a thorough education, it is necessary to send them
abroad.
LETTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH
Revolution in Mexico--Gomez Farias and General Urrea--The Federalists--The
President Imprisoned--Firing--Cannon--First News--Escape--Proclamation of
the Government--Cannonading--Count C---a--Houses deserted--Countess del
V---e--Proclamation of the Federalists--Circular of the Federalists--
Scarcity of Provisions--Bursting of a Shell--Refugees--Dr. Plan--Young
Lady Shot--Gomez Farias--Rumours--Address of Gomez Farias--Balls and
Bullets--Visit from the ----- Minister--Arrival of Monsieur de -------
Expected Attack--Skirmish--Appearance of the Street--San Cosme--General
-------The Count de B------More Rumours--Suspense--Cannonading--Government
Bulletin--Plan of the Rebels defeated--Proclamation of the President--Of
General Valencia--Maternal Affection--Fresh Reports--Families leaving the
City--Letter from Santa Anna--Bustamante's Letter when Imprisoned--
Propositions--Refusal--Tacubaya--Archbishop--Fresh Proposals--Refusal--
Second Letter from Santa Anna--Government Bulletin--Proclamations--An
awkward Mistake-The Archbishop visits the President--Conclusion of the
Revolution--Government Newspapers--Circulars.
July 15th.
Revolution in Mexico! or _Pronunciamiento_, as they call it. The storm
which has for some time been brewing, has burst forth at last. Don
Valentin Gomez Farias and the banished General Urrea have pronounced for
federalism. At two this morning, joined by the fifth battalion and the
regiment of _comercio_, they took up arms, set off for the palace,
surprised the president in his bed, and took him prisoner. Our first
information was a message, arriving on the part of the government,
desiring the attendance of our two old soldiers, who put on their old
uniforms, and set off quite pleased. Next came our friend Don M---- del C-
--o, who advised us to haul out the Spanish colours, that they might be in
readiness to fly on the balcony in case of necessity. Little by little,
more Spaniards arrived with different reports as to the state of things.
Some say that it will end in a few hours--others, that it will be a long
and bloody contest. Some are assured that it will merely terminate in a
change of ministry--others that Santa Anna will come on directly and usurp
the presidency. At all events, General Valencia, at the head of the
government troops, is about to attack the pronunciados, who are in
possession of the palace....
The firing has begun! People come running up the street. The Indians are
hurrying back to their villages in double-quick trot. As we are not in the
centre of the city, our position for the present is very safe, all the
cannon being directed towards the palace. All the streets near the square
are planted with cannon, and it is pretended that the revolutionary party
are giving arms to the _léperos_. The cannon are roaring now. All along the
street people are standing on the balconies, looking anxiously in the
direction of the palace, or collected in groups before the doors, and the
azoteas, which are out of the line of fire, are covered with men. They are
ringing the tocsin--things seem to be getting serious.
Nine o'clock, P.M.--Continuation of firing without interruption. I have
spent the day standing on the balcony, looking at the smoke, and listening
to the different rumours. Gomez Farias has been proclaimed president by his
party. The streets near the square are said to be strewed with dead and
wounded. There was a terrible thunderstorm this afternoon. Mingled with the
roaring of the cannon, it sounded like a strife between heavenly and
earthly artillery. We shall not pass a very easy night, especially without
our soldiers. Unfortunately there is a bright moon, so night brings no
interruption to the firing and slaughter.
16th.--Our first news was brought very early this morning by the wife of
one of our soldiers, who came in great despair, to tell us that both her
husband and his comrade are shot, though not killed--that they were amongst
the first who fell; and she came to entreat C---n to prevent their being
sent to the hospital. It is reported that Bustamante has escaped, and that
he fought his way, sword in hand, through the soldiers who guarded him in
his apartment. Almonte at all events is at the head of his troops. The
balls have entered many houses in the square. It must be terribly dangerous
for those who live there, and amongst others, for our friend Señor Tagle,
Director of the Monte Pio, and his family.
They have just brought the government bulletin, which gives the following
statement of the circumstances:--"Yesterday, at midnight, Urrea, with a
handful of troops belonging to the garrison and its neighbourhood took
possession of the National Palace, surprising the guard, and Committing the
_incivility_ of imprisoning His Excellency the President, Don Anastasio
Bustamante, the commander-in-chief, the _Mayor de la Plaza_, and other
chiefs. Don Gabriel Valencia, chief of the _plana mayor_ (the staff),
General Don Antonio Mozo, and the Minister of War, Don Juan Nepomuceno
Almonte, re-united in the citadel, prepared to attack the _pronunciados_,
who, arming the lowest populace, took possession of the towers of the
cathedral, and of some of the highest edifices in the centre of the city.
Although summoned to surrender, at two in the afternoon firing began, and
continued till midnight, recommencing at five in the morning, and only
ceasing at intervals. The colonel of the sixth regiment, together with a
considerable part of his corps, who were in the barracks of the palace,
escaped and joined the government troops, who have taken the greatest part
of the positions near the square and the palace. His Excellency the
President, with a part of the troops which had _pronounced_ in the palace,
made his escape on the morning of the sixteenth, putting himself at the
head of the troops who have remained faithful to their colours, and at
night published the following proclamation:"
"_The President of the Republic to the Mexican Nation._
"Fellow-Citizens:--The seduction which has spread over a very small part of
the people and garrison of this capital; the forgetfulness of honour and
duty, have caused the defection of a few soldiers, whose misconduct up to
this hour has been thrown into confusion by the valiant behaviour of the
greatest part of the chiefs, officers, and soldiers, who have intrepidly
followed the example of the valiant general-in-chief of the _plana mayor_
of the army. _The government was not ignorant of the machinations that were
carrying on; their authors were well known to it, and it foresaw that the
gentleness and clemency which it had hitherto employed in order to disarm
them, would be corresponded to with ingratitude._
"This line of policy has caused the nation to remain _headless (acéfala)_
for some hours, and public tranquillity to be disturbed; but my liberty
being restored, the dissidents, convinced of the evils which have been and
may be caused by these tumults, depend upon a reconciliation for their
security. The government will remember that they are misled men, belonging
to the great Mexican family, but not for this will it forget how much they
have forfeited their rights to respect; nor what is due to the great bulk
of the nation. Public tranquillity will be restored in a few hours; the
laws will immediately recover their energy, and the government will see
them obeyed.
"ANASTASIO BUSTAMANTE."
"Mexico, July 16th, 1840."
A roar of cannon from the Palace, which made the house shake and the
windows rattle, and caused me to throw a blot over the President's good
name, seems the answer to this proclamation.
17th.--The state of things is very bad. Cannon planted all along the
streets, and soldiers firing indiscriminately on all who pass. Count C---a
slightly wounded, and carried to his country-house at Tacubaya. Two
Spaniards have escaped from their house, into which the balls were pouring,
and have taken refuge here. The E---- family have kept their house, which
is in the very centre of the affray, cannons planted before their door, and
all their windows already smashed. Indeed, nearly all the houses in that
quarter are abandoned. We are living here like prisoners in a fortress. The
Countess del V---e, whose father was shot in a former revolution, had just
risen this morning, when a shell entered the wall close by the side of her
bed, and burst in the mattress.
As there are two sides to every story, listen to the proclamation of the
chief of the rebels.
"_Señor Valentin Gomez Farias to the Mexican People._
"Fellow-Citizens:--We present to the civilized world two facts, which,
while they will cover with eternal glory the Federal army and the heroic
inhabitants of this capital, will hand down with execration and infamy, to
all future generations, the name of General Bustamante; this man without
faith, breaking his solemnly-pledged word, after being put at liberty by an
excess of generosity; for having promised to take immediate steps to bring
about a negotiation of peace, upon the honourable basis which was proposed
to him, he is now converted into the chief of an army, the enemy of the
Federalists; and has beheld, with a serene countenance, this beautiful
capital destroyed, a multitude of families drowned in tears, and the death
of many citizens; not only of the combatants, but of those who have taken
no part in the struggle. Amongst these must be counted an unfortunate woman
_enceinte_, who was killed as she was passing the palace gates under the
belief that a parley having come from his camp, the firing would be
suspended, as in fact it was on our side. This government, informed of the
misfortune, sent for the husband of the deceased, and ordered twenty-five
dollars to be given him; but the unfortunate man, though plunged in grief,
declared that twelve were sufficient to supply his wants. Such was the
horror inspired by the atrocious conduct of the ex-government of
Bustamante, that this sentiment covered up and suffocated all the others.
"Another fact, of which we shall with difficulty find an example in
history, is the following. The day that the firing began, being in want of
some implements of war, it was necessary to cause an iron case to be
opened, belonging to Don Stanislaus Flores, in which he had a considerable
sum of money in different coin, besides his most valuable effects. Thus,
all that the government could do, was to make this known to the owner,
Señor Flores, in order that he might send a person of confidence to take
charge of his interests, making known what was wanting, that he might be
immediately paid. The pertinacity of the firing prevented Señor Flores from
naming a commissioner for four days, and then, although the case has been
open, and no one has taken charge of it, the commissioner has made known
officially that nothing is taken from it but the implements of war which
were sent for. Glory in yourselves, Mexicans! The most polished nation of
the earth, illustrious France, has not presented a similar fact. The
Mexicans possess heroic virtues, which will raise them above all the
nations in the world. This is the only ambition of your fellow-citizen,
"VALENTIN GOMEZ FARIAS.
"God, Liberty, and Federalism.
"Mexico, July 17th, 1840."
Besides this, a circular has been sent to all the governors and commandants
of the different departments, from the "Palace of the Federal Provisional
Government," to this effect:
"The Citizen José Urrea, with the greater part of the garrison of the
capital, and the whole population, pronounced early on the morning of this
day, for the re-establishment of the Federal system, adopting in the
interim the Constitution of 1824, whilst it is reformed by a Congress which
they are about to convoke to that effect; and I, having been called, in
order that at this juncture I should put myself at the head of the
government, communicate it to your Excellency, informing you at the same
time, that the object of the Citizen Urrea, instead of re-establishing the
Federal system, has been to re-unite all the Mexicans, by proclaiming
toleration of all opinions, and respect for the lives, properties, and
interests of all.
"God, Liberty, and Federalism.
"VALENTIN GOMEZ FARIAS."
"National Palace of Mexico, 15th July, 1840."
18th.--There is a great scarcity of provisions in the centre of the city,
as the Indians, who bring in everything from the country, are stopped. We
have laid in a good stock of _comestibles_, though it is very unlikely that
any difficulties will occur in our direction. While I am writing, the
cannon are roaring almost without interruption, and the sound is anything
but agreeable, though proving the respect entertained by Farias for "the
lives, properties, and interests of all." We see the smoke, but are
entirely out of the reach of the fire.
I had just written these words, when the Señora -----, who lives opposite,
called out to me that a shell has just fallen in her garden, and that her
husband had but time to save himself. The cannon directed against the
palace kill people in their beds, in streets entirely out of that
direction, while this ball, intended for the citadel, takes its flight to
San Cosme! Both parties seem to be _fighting the city_ instead of each
other; and this manner of firing from behind parapets, and from the tops of
houses and steeples, is decidedly safer for the soldiers than for the
inhabitants. It seems also a novel plan to keep up a continual cannonading
by night, and to rest during a great part of the day. One would think that
were the guns brought nearer the palace, the affair would be sooner over.
Late last night, a whole family came here for protection; the
Señora ----- with -----, nurse, and baby, etc. She had remained very
quietly in her own house, in spite of broken windows, till the bullets
whizzed past her baby's bed. This morning, everything remains as it was the
first day--the president in the citadel, the rebels in the palace. The
government are trying to hold out until troops arrive from Puebla. In an
interval of firing, the---Secretary contrived to make his way here this
morning. The English Minister's house is also filled with families, it
being a little out of the line of fire. Those who live in the Square, and
in the Calle San Francisco are most exposed, and the poor shopkeepers in
the _Parian_ are in a state of great and natural trepidation. I need not
say that the shops are all shut.
19th.--Dr. Plan, a famous French physician, was shot this morning, as he
was coming out of the palace, and his body has just been carried past our
door into the house opposite.
The Señorita ----- having imprudently stepped out on her balcony, her house
being in a very exposed street, a pistol-ball entered her side, and passed
through her body. She is still alive, but it seems impossible that she can
recover. The Prior of San Joaquin, riding by just now, stopped below the
windows to tell us that he fears we shall not remain long here in safety,
as the pronunciados have attacked the Convent of La Concepción, at the end
of the street.
My writing must be very desultory. Impossible to fix one's attention on
anything. We pass our time on the balconies, listening to the thunder of
the cannon, looking at the different parties of troops riding by, receiving
visitors, who, in the intervals of the firing, venture out to bring us the
last reports--wondering, speculating, fearing, hoping, and excessively
tired of the whole affair.
Gomez Farias, the prime mover of this revolution, is a distinguished
character, one of the _notabilities_ of the country, and has always
maintained the same principles, standing up for "rapid and radical reform."
He is a native of Guadalajara, and his literary career is said to have been
brilliant. He is also said to be a man of an ardent imagination and great
energy. His name has appeared in every public event. He first aided in the
cause of Independence, then, when deputy for Zacatecas, showed much zeal in
favour of Yturbide--was afterwards a warm partisan of the federal
cause--contributed to the election of General Victoria; afterwards to that
of Pedraza--took an active part in the political changes of '33 and '34;
detests the Spaniards, and during his presidency endeavoured to abolish the
privileges of the clergy and troops--suppressed monastic
institutions--granted absolute liberty of opinion--abolished the laws
against the liberty of the press--created many literary institutions; and
whatever were his political errors, and the ruthlessness with which in the
name of liberty and reform he marched to the attainment of his object,
without respect for the most sacred things, he is generally allowed to be a
man of integrity, and even by his enemies, an enthusiast, who deceives
himself as much as others. Now in the hopes of obtaining some uncertain and
visionary good, and even while declaring his horror of civil war and
bloodshed, he has risen in rebellion against the actual government, and is
the cause of the cruel war now raging, not in the open fields or even in
the scattered suburbs, but in the very heart of a populous city.
This morning all manner of opinions are afloat. Some believe that Santa
Anna has started from his retreat at Manga de Clavo, and will arrive
to-day--will himself swallow the disputed oyster (the presidential chair),
and give each of the combatants a shell apiece; some that a fresh supply of
troops for the government will arrive to-day, and others that the rebels
must eventually triumph. Among the reports which I trust may be classed as
doubtful, is, that General Urrea has issued a proclamation, promising
_three hours' pillage_ to all who join him. Then will be the time for
testing the virtues of all the diplomatic _drapeaux_. In the midst of all,
here comes another.
"_Address of His Excellency, Señor Don Valentin Gomez Farias, charged
provisionally with the government of Mexico, and of the General-in-Chief of
the Federal army, to the troops under his command_."
"Companions in arms:--No one has ever resisted a people who fight for their
liberty and who defend their sacred rights. Your heroic endeavours have
already reduced _our unjust aggressors_ almost to complete nullity. Without
infantry to cover their parapets, without artillery to fire their pieces,
without money, without credit, and without support, they already make their
last useless efforts. On our side, on the contrary, all is in abundance
_(sobra)_, men, arms, ammunition, and money, and above all, the invincible
support of opinion;--while the parties which adhere to our _pronunciamento_
in all the cities out of the capital, and the assistance which within this
very city is given by every class of society to those who are fighting for
the rights of the people, offer guarantees which they will strictly fulfil
to all the inhabitants of the country, natives as well as foreigners. Our
enemies, in the delirium of their impotence, have had recourse to their
favourite weapon, calumny. In a communication directed to us, they have had
the audacity to accuse you of having attacked some property. Miserable
wretches! No, the soldiers of the people are not robbers; the cause of
liberty is very noble, and its defence will not be stained by a degrading
action. This is the answer given to your calumniators by your chiefs, who
are as much interested in your reputation as in their own. Soldiers of the
people! let valour, as well as all other civic virtues, shine in your
conduct, that you may never dim the renown of valiant soldiers and of good
citizens.
"Valentin Gomez Farias."
"José Urrea."
We hear that two shells have fallen into the house of Señor -----, who has
a pretty wife and a number of children, and that his azotea is occupied by
the federalist troops. Fortunately, these grenades burst in the _patio_ of
his house, and no one was injured. The chief danger to those who are not
actually engaged in this affair, is from these bullets and shells, which
come rattling into all the houses. We have messages from various people
whom we invited to come here for safety, that they would gladly accept our
offer, but are unwilling to leave their houses exposed to pillage, and do
not dare to pass through the streets. So our numbers have not increased as
yet.
You may suppose, that although this is Sunday, there is no mass in the
churches. The Prior of San Fernando, who has just sent us round some
colossal cauliflowers and other fine vegetables from his garden, permits us
to come to his convent for safety, should anything occur here, ... I am
afraid he would lodge the women-kind in some outhouse.
I had written thus far, when we received a visit from the Baron de -----,
----- Minister, who, living in a very exposed situation, near the palace,
requests us to receive his secretary of legation, M. de -----, who is
dangerously ill of typhus fever, as the doctors, no doubt warned by the
fate of poor Dr. Plan, fear to pass into that street which is blocked up by
troops and cannon. Some people fear a universal sacking of the city,
especially in the event of the triumph of the federalist party. The
Ministers seem to have great confidence in their _flags_--but I cannot help
thinking that a party of armed _léperos_ would be no respecters of persons
or privileges! As yet our position continues very safe. We have the Alameda
between us and the troops; the palace, the square, and the principal
streets being on the other side of the Alameda; and this street, a branch
of the great Calle de Tacuba, stretching out beyond it. I write more to
occupy my thoughts than in hopes of interesting you; for I am afraid that
you will almost be tired of this _revolutionary_ letter. As a clever
Mexican, the Marquis of -----, says--"Some years ago we gave forth cries
(_gritos_)--that was in the infancy of our independence--now we begin to
_pronounce_ (pronuncianos). Heaven knows when we shall be old enough
to speak plain, so that people may know what we mean!"
_Sunday Evening_.--Monsieur de ----- has arrived, and is not worse. We have
unexpectedly had twelve persons to dinner to-day. The news to-night is,
that the government troops have arrived, and that a great attack will be
made by them to-morrow on the rebels in the palace, which will probably
bring matters to a conclusion. Some of our guests are sitting up, and
others lying down on the sofa without undressing. I prefer being
comfortable, so goodnight.
20th.--We were astonished this morning at the general tranquillity, and
concluded that, instead of having attacked the rebels, the government was
holding a parley with them, but a note from the English Minister informs us
that a skirmish has taken place between the two parties at one of the gates
of the city, in which the government party has triumphed. So far the news
is good.
Our street has a most picturesque and lively appearance this morning. It is
crowded with Indians from the country, bringing in their fruit and
vegetables for sale, and establishing a temporary market in front of the
church of San Fernando. Innumerable carriages, drawn by mules, are passing
along, packed inside and out, full of families hurrying to the country with
their children and moveables. Those who are poorer, are making their way on
foot--men and women carrying mattresses, and little children following with
baskets and bird-cages--carts are passing, loaded with chairs and tables
and beds, and all manner of old furniture, uprooted for the first time no
doubt since many years--all are taking advantage of this temporary
cessation of firing to make their escape. Our stables are full of mules and
horses sent us by our friends in the centre of the city, where all supplies
of water are cut off. Another physician, a Spaniard, has just been shot!
Every room at San Cosme and in all the suburbs is taken. In some rooms are
numbers of people, obliged to sleep upon mats, too glad to have escaped the
danger to care for any inconvenience. A quantity of plate and money and
diamonds were sent here this morning, which we have been hiding in
different parts of the house; but they say that in cases of pillage the
plunderers always search the most _impossible_ places, pulling up the
boards, brick floors, etc., ripping up the mattresses, and so on; so I
believe there is no use in concealing anything. Near us lives a celebrated
general, on whose political opinions there seems much doubt, as he has
joined neither party, and has become invisible ever since this affair
commenced. He is a showy, handsome man, with a good deal of superficial
instruction, and exceedingly vain of his personal advantages. I am quite
sure that, having allowed him to be a fine-looking man, he would forgive me
for saying that his character is frivolous, and that his principles, both
moral and political, are governed entirely by that which best suits his own
advantage.
The Count de B----, secretary to the French Legation, mounted his horse
last evening, and, like a true young Frenchman, set off to pay a visit to a
pretty girl of his acquaintance, passing through the most dangerous
streets, and particularly conspicuous by his singular dress, good looks,
and moustaches. He had not gone far before he was surrounded by some dozen
of _léperos_ with knives, who would, no doubt, have robbed and despatched
him, but that in tearing off his sarape they discovered his uniform, and
not being very skilled in military accoutrements, concluded him to be an
officer on the part of the government. They being on the federalist side,
hurried with their prize to the palace, where he was thrown into prison,
and obliged to remain until some of the officers came to see the prisoner,
and recognized him, much to their astonishment.
We are now going to dine with what appetite we may, which is generally
pretty good.
Ten o'clock, P.M.--We ventured out after dinner to take a turn in the
direction opposite the city, and met various parties of ladies, who, as
they cannot use their carriages at present, were thankful to escape from
their temporary and crowded dwellings, and were actually taking exercise on
foot; when we were encountered by people full of the intelligence that the
great attack on the palace is to be made this evening, and were advised to
hurry home. We were also assured that a party of _léperos_, headed by their
long-bearded captain, an old robber of the name of Castro, had passed the
night before our door. Before we could reach home the firing began, and we
have passed several hours in a state of great suspense, amidst the roaring
of the cannon, the shouting of the troops, the occasional cries of those
who are wounded, and, to make everything appear more lugubrious, the most
awful storm of thunder and rain I almost ever heard. The Señora de -----'s
brother is a captain in the government service, and he and his regiment
have distinguished themselves very much during these last few days;
consequently she is dreadfully uneasy to-night.
The gentlemen seem inclined to pass the night in talking. We think of lying
down, and sleeping if we can. I hope nothing will happen in the night, for
everything seems worse in the darkness and consequent confusion.
21st.--After passing a sleepless night, listening to the roaring of cannon,
and figuring to ourselves the devastation that must have taken place, we
find to our amusement that nothing decisive has occurred. The noise last
night was mere skirmishing, and half the cannons were fired in the air. In
the darkness there was no mark. But though the loss on either side is so
much less than might have been expected, the rebels in the palace cannot be
very comfortable, for they say that the air is infected by the number of
unburied dead bodies lying there; indeed there are many lying unburied on
the streets, which is enough to raise a fever, to add to the calamitous
state of things.
The government bulletin of to-day expresses the regret of the supreme
magistrate at seeing his hopes of restoring peace frustrated, and publishes
the assurances of fidelity which they have received from all the
departments, especially from Puebla, Queretaro, and Vera Cruz, in spite of
the extraordinary despatches which had there been received from Farias,
desiring them to recognize Urrea as Minister of war, and Don Manuel
Crecencio Rejon as Minister of the interior; "which communications," says
the commandant of Queretaro, "produced in my soul only indignation and
contempt towards their miserable authors."
The account of the yesterday's affair is as follows. "The _pronunciados_ in
the palace, knowing that the infantry which was to come from Puebla to the
assistance of the government, was expected to arrive yesterday, endeavoured
to surprise it near the gate of Saint Lazarus, with a column of infantry of
two hundred in number, and some cavalry; but the brave Colonel Torrejon,
with eighty dragoons, beat them completely, killing, wounding, and taking
many prisoners, and pursuing them as far as the archbishop's palace. The
supreme government, appreciating the distinguished services and brilliant
conduct of the aforesaid colonel, have given him the rank of general of
brigade."
The president in to-day's proclamation, after declaring that "the beautiful
capital of the republic is the theatre of war," says "that nothing but
consideration for the lives and properties of the inhabitants has been able
to restrain the enthusiasm of the soldiers of the nation, and to prevent
them from putting forth their whole force to dislodge the rebels from the
different points of which they have possessed themselves." The president
adds, "that this revolt is the more inexcusable, as his administration has
always been gentle and moderate; that he has economized the public
treasure, respected the laws, and that citizens of whatever opinion had
always enjoyed perfect tranquillity under his rule--that constitutional
reforms were about being realized, as well as the hopes of forming by them
a bond of union between all Mexicans." He concludes by reproaching those
revolutionary men who thus cause the shedding of so much innocent blood.
The commander-in-chief, General Valencia, writing perhaps under some
inspiring influence, is more figurative in his discourse. "Soldiers of
Liberty!" he exclaims; "Anarchy put out its head, and your arms drowned it
in a moment." This would have been a finer figure in the days of the great
lakes. And again he exclaims--"Mexicans! my heart feels itself wounded by
the deepest grief, and all humanity shudders in contemplating the
unsoundable chaos of evils in which the authors of this rebellion have sunk
the incautious men whom they have seduced, in order to form with their dead
bodies the bloody ladder which was to raise them to their aggrandizement!
Already the Mexican people begin to gather the bitter fruits with which
these men who blazon forth their humanity and philanthropy have always
allured them, feeding themselves on the blood of their brothers, and
striking up songs to the sad measure of sobs and weeping!" These tropes are
very striking. All is brought before us as in a picture. We see anarchy
raising his rascally head above the water (most likely adorned with a
liberty cap), and the brave soldiers instantly driving it down again. We
behold Gomez Farias and Urrea rushing up a ladder of dead bodies. And then
the Lucrezia Borgia kind of scene that follows!--alluring their victims
with bitter fruit (perhaps with sour grapes), drinking blood, and singing
horridly out of tune to a running bass of sobs! The teeth of humanity are
set on edge only by reading it. Well may his Excellency add--"I present
them to the nations of the world as an inimitable model of ferocity and
barbarity!"
This morning General ----- sent a few lines from the citadel, where he and
the president are, in which he speaks with confidence of speedily putting
down the rebels. C---n returned many affectionate messages, accompanied by
a supply of cigars. They say that the greatest possible bravery is shown by
the boys of the Military College, who are very fine little fellows, and all
up in arms on the side of the government. A strong instance of maternal
affection and courage was shown by the Señora G---- this morning. Having
received various reports concerning her son, who belongs to this college;
first that he was wounded; then that the wound was severe; then that it was
slight--and being naturally extremely uneasy about him, she set off alone,
and on foot, at five o'clock in the morning, without mentioning her
intention to any one, carrying with her a basket of provisions; passed
across the square, and through all the streets planted with cannon, made
her way through all the troops into the citadel; had the satisfaction of
finding her son in perfect health, and returned home, just as her husband
and family had become aware of her absence.
General Valencia is said to have a large party amongst the soldiers, who
are in favour of his being named president. It is said that he was seen
riding up and down in the lines in a most _spirited_ manner, and rather
unsteady in his saddle. Some rumours there are that Santa Anna has arrived
at Perote; but, as he travels in a litter, he cannot be here for some days,
even should this be true. There seems no particular reason to believe that
this will end soon, and we must remain shut up here as patiently as we can.
In the intervals of firing the gentlemen go out, but they will not hear of
our doing so, except sometimes for a few minutes in the evening, and then
either firing or thunder sends us back. Various people, and especially the
Countess C---a, have invited us to their country places; but, besides that
we are in the safest part of the city, and have several guests, C---n does
not think it right for him to leave Mexico. They say that house-rents will
rise hereabouts, on account of the advantages of the _locale_ in cases of
this sort.
Amongst other announcements, the government have published, that the rebels
have demanded that the jewels, together with the service of gold and silver
belonging to the Holy Cathedral Church, shall be given up to them, and
threaten to seize the whole by force, should their demand not be acceded to
within two hours. "It is very probable that they will do so," adds the
bulletin; thus adding a new crime to all they have committed.
It is now evening, and again they announce an attack upon the palace, but I
do not believe them, and listen to the cannon with tolerable tranquillity.
All day families continue to pass by, leaving Mexico. The poor shopkeepers
are to be pitied. Besides the total cessation of trade, one at least has
been shot, and others plundered. A truce of two hours was granted this
afternoon, to bury the dead, who were carried out of the palace. Two of our
colleagues ventured here this morning.
22nd.--The government bulletin of this morning contains a letter from Santa
Anna, dated Mango de Clavo, 19th of July, informing the president, with
every expression of loyalty and attachment to the government, that
according to his desire he will set off this morning in the direction of
Perote, "at the head of a respectable division." Various other assurances
of fidelity from Victoria, from Galindo, etc., are inserted, with the
remark that the Mexican public will thus see the uniformity and decision of
the whole republic in favour of order, and especially will receive in the
communication of his Excellency, General Santa Anna, an equivocal proof of
this unity of sentiment, notwithstanding the assurances given by the rebels
to the people, that Santa Anna would either assist them, or would take no
part at all in the affair. It must be confessed, however, that his
Excellency is rather a dangerous umpire.
The Governor Vieyra published a proclamation to-day, declaring "Mexico in a
state of siege." It seems to me that we knew that already! Upon the whole,
things are going on well for the government. Parties of _pronunciados_ have
been put down in various places. The wounded on both sides have been
carried to the hospital of San Andrés. A battery is now planted against the
palace, in the Calle de Plateros, where they are at least near enough to do
more execution than before.
One circumstance worthy of notice has been published to-day. The rebels, as
you may recollect, declared that they had permitted the president to leave
the palace, on condition of his taking conciliatory measures, and that he
had agreed to favour their pretensions. Now here is Bustamante's own
letter, written in the palace, when surrounded by his enemies; a proof, if
any were wanting, of his exceeding personal bravery, and perfect coolness
in the midst of danger. There is something rather _Roman_ in these few
lines:
"Ministers,--I protest that I find myself without liberty and without
defence, the guards of the palace having abandoned me. Under these
circumstances, let no order of mine, which is contrary to the duties of the
post I occupy, be obeyed. Since, although I am resolved to die before
failing in my obligations, it will not be difficult to falsify my
signature. Let this be made known by you to the Congress, and to those
generals and chiefs who preserve sentiments of honour and fidelity.
"National Palace, July 15th, 1840.
"Anastasio Bustamante."
The following propositions are made to the government by the rebels:
"Article 1st. It not having been the intention of the citizen José Urrea,
and of the troops under his command, to attack in any way the person of
the president of the republic, General Anastasio Bustamante, he is replaced
in the exercise of his functions.
"2nd. Using his faculties as president of the republic, he will cause the
firing to cease on the part of the troops opposed to the citizen Urrea; who
on his side will do the same.
"3rd. The president shall organize a ministry deserving of public
confidence, and shall promise to re-establish the observance of the
constitution of 1824, convoking a congress immediately, for the express
purpose of reform.
"4th. Upon these foundations, peace and order shall be re-established, and
no one shall be molested for the opinions which he has manifested, or for
the principles he may have supported, all who are in prison for political
opinions being set at liberty."
Almonte, in the name of the president, rejected these conditions, but
offered to spare the lives of the pronunciados, in case they should
surrender within twenty-four hours. The chiefs of the opposite party
hereupon declared the door shut to all reconcilement, but requested a
suspension of hostilities, which was granted.
A---- is going to drive me out during this suspension, in an open cab, to
call on the C---a family. The -----s have left their house, their position
having become too dangerous. Another letter from General Almonte this
morning. Nothing decisive. The streets continue blocked up with cannon, the
roofs of the houses, and churches are covered with troops, the shops remain
closed, and the streets deserted. People are paying ounces for the least
morsel of room in the suburbs, on the San Cosme side of the city.
23rd.--Yesterday the archbishop invited the chiefs of the pronunciados to a
conference in his archiepiscopal palace, in order that he might endeavour,
in his apostolical character, to check the effusion of blood. The
conference took place, and the rebels requested a suspension of
hostilities, whilst the prelate should communicate its results to the
president, which was granted by the general-in-chief. But the
_pronunciados_ broke the truce, and endeavoured to surprise the president
and Almonte in the citadel, passing over the parapets in the _Calle de
Monterilla_. They were repulsed with slaughter, and a fierce cannonading
was kept up all night. They have now requested a parley, which is granted
them. ...
In the midst of all, there is a communication from the Governor of Morelia,
giving an account of the routing of a band of robbers who had attacked an
hacienda.
We went to Tacubaya, and met with no other danger but that of being
drenched wet; as a daily watering of the earth, short, but severe, now
takes place regularly. The new propositions of the _pronunciados_ are
these:
1st. "The forces of both armies shall retire to occupy places out of the
capital.
2nd. "Both the belligerent parties shall agree that the constitutional laws
of 1836 shall remain without force.
3rd. "A convention shall be convoked, establishing the new constitution,
upon the basis fixed in the Constitutive Act, which will begin to be in
force directly.
4th. "The elections of the members of the convention, will be verified
according to the laws by which the deputies of the Constituent Congress
were directed.
5th. "His actual Excellency, the President, will form a provisional
government, he being the chief, until the foregoing articles begin to take
effect.
6th. "No one shall be molested for political opinions manifested since the
year '21 until now: consequently the persons, employments and properties of
all who have taken part in this or in the past revolutions shall be
respected.
7th. "That the first article may take effect, the government will
facilitate all that is necessary to both parties."
The government have refused these second propositions; and at the same time
made known to the Mexican world that various deserters from the opposite
party assure them, that the _pronunciados_, including the principal chiefs,
are occupied in destroying everything within the palace--that the general
archives and those of the Ministers are torn in pieces, and that the
despatches are taken to make cartouches, and so on. They end by accusing
them of being all united with the most noted robbers and public highwaymen,
such as a _Ricardo Tea_, a _Jose Polvorilla_, a _Roman Chavez_, a _Juan
Vega_, a _Rosas_, a _Garcilazo_, and others. I put down the names of these
Mexican Dick Turpins and Paul Cliffords, in case we should meet them some
_beau jour_.
More forces have arrived from Puebla and Toluca. Santa Anna is expected to
reach Puebla to-night, and again General Valencia holds out an invitation
to repentance to the "deceived men in the palace."
25th.--A letter is published to-day from Santa Anna to General Victoria,
assuring him that whatever personal considerations might have detained him
in his country-seat, he accepts with pleasure the command of the division
going to Perote, and will in this, as in all things, obey the orders of the
supreme government. Firing, with short intervals, continued all yesterday,
during the night, and this morning. Two mortars are placed in front of the
old _Acordada_, in the direction of the palace, but as yet they have not
been used. There are a crowd of people examining them.
Things remain nearly in the same position as before, except that there are
more deserters from the revolted party. A proclamation was issued by Urrea,
accusing the government of all the evils that afflict the city, and of all
the bloodshed caused by this civil war. Amongst other things, they complain
of the death of Dr. Plan, who was shot in the Calle de Seminario, and,
according to them, by the government troops. General Valencia answers this
time without figures, and with good reason, that the responsibility of
these misfortunes must be with those who have provoked the war.
In the bulletin of to-day, the government praise their own moderation in
having taken off the duties from all provisions entering the capital, in
order that the price might not become too high, an advantage in which the
_pronunciados_ themselves participate--mention their exertions to supply
the city with water, and their permission given to the _pronunciados_ to
send their wounded to the hospital of San Andrés. They deny that the
government has any share in the evils that afflict the whole population,
their endeavour having ever been to preserve tranquillity and order; "but
when a handful of factious men have taken possession of part of the city,
no choice is left them but to besiege and combat them until they surrender,
and not to abandon the peaceful citizens to pillage and vengeance." They
declare that they might already have subdued them, and are only held back
by the fear of involving in their ruin the number of innocent persons who
occupy the circumjacent houses. The policy of this moderation seems
doubtful, but the sincerity of the president is unimpeachable. They
continue to observe upon the absurdity of this handful of men pretending to
impose laws upon the whole republic, when already the body of the nation
have given unequivocal proofs that they have no desire that the questions
relative to their political institutions should be decided by the force of
arms.
While the _pronunciados_ declare on their side that "information of
_pronunciamentos_ everywhere" has been received by them; the government
remarks that eleven days have now elapsed, which has given full time for
all the departments to declare themselves in favour of those who call
themselves their representatives; but on the contrary, nothing has been
received but assurances of fidelity, and of support to the government
cause. I believe that the English packet will be detained till the
conclusion of this affair, but should it not be so, you need not feel any
uneasiness in regard to us. Our house is full of people, money, jewels, and
plate--our stables of horses and mules. Amongst the diamonds are those of
the Señora L----, which are very fine, and there are gold rouleaus enough
to set up a bank at San Agustin. Santa Anna seems in no hurry to arrive.
People expect him to-morrow, but perhaps he thinks the hour has not come
for him.
26th.--The proclamation of the governor of the department of Jalisco is
published to-day, in which he observes: "The nation cannot forget that this
Urrea, who has brought so many evils upon his country, this faithful friend
of _Mr. Carlos Baudin_, and of the French squadron which invaded our
territory, for whom he procured all the fresh provisions which they
required, is the same man who now escapes from prison, to figure at the
head of a tumultuous crowd, whose first steps were marked by the capture of
his Excellency the President." Firing continues, but without any decided
result. It is a sound that one does not learn to hear with indifference.
There seems little doubt that ultimately the government will gain the day,
but the country will no doubt remain for some time in a melancholy state of
disorder. Bills are fastened to-day on the corners of the streets,
forbidding all ingress or egress through the military lines, from six in
the evening till eight in the morning. Gentlemen who live near us now
venture in towards evening, to talk politics or play at whist; but
generally, in the middle of a game, some report is brought in, which drives
them back to their houses and families with all possible haste. Señor
-----, a young Spaniard who is living with us, returning here late last
night, was challenged by the sentinels at the corner of the street, with
the usual "_Quien viva?_" to which, being in a brown study, he mechanically
replied, "_Spain!_" Fortunately, the officer on duty was a man of common
sense and humanity, and instead of firing, warned him to take better care
for the future.
Last night the archbishop paid a visit to the president, in the convent of
San Agustin, to intercede in favour of the _pronunciados_. The mortars have
not yet played against the palace, owing, it is said, to the desire of the
general-in-chief to avoid the further effusion of blood.
The tranquillity of the sovereign people during all this period, is
astonishing. In what other city in the world would they not have taken part
with one or other side? Shops shut, workmen out of employment, thousands of
idle people, subsisting, Heaven only knows how, yet no riot, no confusion,
apparently no impatience. Groups of people collect on the streets, or stand
talking before their doors, and speculate upon probabilities, but await the
decision of their military chiefs, as if it were a judgment from Heaven,
from which it were both useless and impious to appeal.
27th.--"Long live the Mexican Republic! Long live the Supreme Government!"
Thus begins the government bulletin of to-day, to which I say Amen! with
all my heart, since it ushers in the news of the termination of the
revolution. And what particularly attracts my attention is, that instead of
the usual stamp, the eagle, serpent, and nopal, we have to-day, a shaggy
pony, flying as never did mortal horse before, his tail and mane in a most
violent state of excitement, his four short legs all in the air at once,
and on his back a man in a jockey-cap, furiously blowing a trumpet, from
which issues a white flag, on which is printed "News!" _in English!_ and
apparently in the act of springing over a milestone, on which is inscribed,
also in English--"_100 to New York!_"
"We have," says the government, "the grateful satisfaction of announcing,
that the revolution of this capital has terminated happily. The rebellious
troops having offered, in the night, to lay down arms upon certain
conditions, his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief, has accepted their
proposals with convenient modifications, which will be verified to-day; the
empire of laws, order, tranquillity, and all other social guarantees being
thus re-established," etc. Cuevas, Minister of the Interior, publishes a
circular addressed to the governors of the departments to the same effect,
adding, that "in consideration of the inhabitants and properties which
required the prompt termination of this disastrous revolution, the
guarantees of personal safety solicited by the rebels have been granted,
but none of their pretensions have been acceded to; the conspiracy of the
fifteenth having thus had no other effect but to make manifest the general
wish and opinion in favour of the government, laws, and legitimate
authorities." A similar circular is published by General Almonte.
Having arrived at this satisfactory conclusion, which must be as agreeable
to you as it is to us, I shall close this long letter, merely observing, in
apology, that as Madame de Stael said, in answer to the remark, that "Women
have nothing to do with politics;"--"That may be, but when a woman's head
is about to be cut off, it is natural she should ask--_why_?" so it appears
to me, that when bullets are whizzing about our ears, and shells falling
within a few yards of us, it ought to be considered extremely natural, and
quite feminine, to inquire into the cause of such _phenomena_.
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH
Plan of the Federalists--Letter from Farias--Signing of
Articles--Dispersion of the "Pronunciados"--Conditions--Orders of General
Valencia--Of the Governor--Address of General Valencia--Departure of our
Guests--The _Cosmopolite_--State of the Palace and Streets--Bulletin of the
Firing--Interior of Houses--Escape of Families--Conduct of the
Troops--Countess del V---e--Santa Anna--Congress--Anecdote--Discussion in
Congress--Leprosy.
28th July.
To-day is published the plan which was formed by the federalists for the
"political regeneration of the republic." They observe, that it is six
years since the federal plan, adopted freely by the nation in 1824, was
replaced by a system which monopolizes all advantages in favour of a few;
that evils had now arrived at that height, in which the endeavours of a few
men, however illustrious, could have no effect in remedying them; rendering
it necessary for all Mexicans to unite in one combined and energetic force
to better their situation; that salvation can only be hoped for from the
nation itself, etc. They then proceed to lay their plan, consisting of ten
articles, before the public.
The first restores the constitution of '24, the national interests to be
reformed by a congress, composed of four deputies from each state. By the
second, the reformed constitution is to be submitted to the legislatures of
the states for approbation. By the third, they engage to respect the
Catholic religion, the form of popular government, representative and
federal, the division of powers, political liberty of the press, the
organization of a military and naval force, and the equality of rights
between all the inhabitants of the nation. By the fourth article, a
provisional government is to be established in the capital, whose functions
are to be limited exclusively to the direction of the external relations of
the republic. By the fifth, this provisional government is to be vested in
a Mexican, reuniting the requisites for this employment, as established in
the constitution of '24. By the sixth, the republic promises to give back
the ten per cent, added to the duties of consumption, to those who have
paid it until now. By the seventh, in eight months after the triumph of the
present revolution, all interior custom-houses are to be suppressed, and
henceforth no contributions shall be imposed upon the internal circulation
of goods, whether foreign or domestic. By the eighth, they promise to
confirm all the civil and military employments of those who do not oppose
this political regeneration. By the ninth, the army is to be paid with
great punctuality. By the tenth, a general amnesty is promised to all who
have committed political errors since the Independence; and the names of
Farias and Urrea are followed by a goodly list of major-generals, colonels,
etc.
There is also published a letter from Farias, indignantly denying the
report of the federal party's having threatened to seize the cathedral
jewels and plate; accompanied by one from the archbishop himself, not only
denying the circumstances, but expressing his satisfaction with the conduct
of the federalist party in regard to all the convents which they had
occupied, and the respect which they had shown towards all thing's
pertaining to the church.
On the night of the twenty-sixth, the articles of capitulation were signed
on both sides; a letter from General Andrade having been received by
General Valencia, to the effect that as General Urrea had abandoned the
command of the troops and left it in his hands, he, in the name of the
other chiefs and officers, was ready to ratify the conditions stipulated
for by them on the preceding night. This was at three in the morning; and
about eight o'clock, the capitulation was announced to the _pronunciados_
in the different positions occupied by them; and they began to disperse in
different directions, in groups of about a hundred, crying, "Vive la
Federacion!" At a quarter before two o'clock, General Manuel Andrade
marched out, with all the honours of war, to Tlanapantla, followed by the
_pronunciados_ of the palace.
This morning, at eleven, _Te Deum_, was sung in the cathedral, there being
present, the archbishop, the president, and all the authorities. The bells,
which have preserved an ominous silence during these events, are now
ringing forth in a confusion of tongues. The palace being crippled with
balls, and in a state of utter confusion, the president and his Ministers
occupy cells in the convent of San Agustin.
The Federalists have marched out upon the following conditions: 1st, Their
lives, persons, and employments, and properties are to be inviolably
preserved. 2nd, General Valencia engages to interpose his influence with
the government by all legal means, that they may request the chambers to
proceed to reform the constitution. 3rd, All political events, which have
occurred since the fifteenth, up to this date, are to be totally forgotten,
the forces who adhered to the plan of the fifteenth being included in this
agreement. 4th, A passport out of the republic is to be given to whatever
individual, comprehended in this agreement, may solicit it. 5th, The troops
of the _pronunciados_ are to proceed to wherever General Valencia orders
them, commanded by one of their own captains, whom he shall point out, and
who must answer for any disorders they may commit. 6th, General Valencia
and all the other generals of his army, must promise on their honour,
before the whole world, to keep this treaty, and see to its exact
accomplishment. 7th, It only applies to Mexicans. 8th, Whenever it is
ratified by the chiefs of both parties, it is to be punctually fulfilled,
hostilities being suspended until six in the morning of the twenty-seventh,
which gives time to ratify the conditions.
The president may exclaim, "One such victory more, and I am undone!" Orders
are issued by General Valencia to the effect, that until the Federalist
troops have marched out of the city, no group passing five in number will
be permitted in the streets; that until then, there is to be no trading
through the streets; that at three o'clock the eating-houses may be thrown
open, but not the taverns till the next day; and that the police and
alcaldes of the different wards are held responsible for the accomplishment
of these orders, and may make use of armed force to preserve order.
The governor enforces these orders with additions. People must turn in at
nine o'clock, or give an account of themselves--must give up all their
guns, carbines, etc., to the alcalde, under a heavy penalty; and none,
excepting military men, may go on horseback from five in the evening until
six in the morning, during five days.
General Valencia makes a pathetic address to his soldiers, and foretells
that henceforth all mothers, wives, and old men, will point them out as
they pass, saying, "There go our deliverers!" and adds--"I grow proud in
speaking to you." "Inhabitants of this beautiful capital!" he says again,
"the aurora of the 15th of July was very different from that of the 27th;
_that_ prognosticated destruction, _this_ rises announcing happiness.
_Never again will you hear the crash of cannon but to celebrate the
triumphs of your country, or to solemnize your civic functions."_ May your
words be prophetic, and especially may you yourself assist in their
accomplishment.
29th.--Our guests have left us, all but Monsieur -----, who, although
recovered, cannot yet be moved. All money, plate, and jewels in our charge,
are restored to their rightful owners; and the Spanish colours, which have
never been hoisted, return to their former obscurity. I reopen the piano,
uncover and tune the harp, and as we have been most entirely shut up during
thirteen days of heavenly weather, feel rejoiced at the prospect of getting
out again. As yet, I have not seen the state of things in the city, but the
"Cosmopolite" of to-day says--"I should wish to have the pen of Jeremiah,
to describe the desolation and calamities of this city, which has been the
mistress of the new world. In the days of mourning that have passed, we
have not been able to fix our eyes on any part of it where we have not
encountered desolation, weeping, and death. The palace has become a
_sieve_, and the southern bulwark is destroyed; that part of the _portal_
which looks towards the _Monterilla_ is ruined; the finest buildings in the
centre have suffered a great deal; innumerable houses at great distances
from it have been also much injured by stray balls. Persons of all ages,
classes, and conditions, who interfered in nothing, have been killed, not
only in the streets, but even in their own apartments. The balls crossed
each other in every direction, and the risk has been universal. The city
has been in the dark during these days, without patrol or watch; and many
malefactors have taken advantage of this opportunity to use the murderous
poniard without risk, and with the utmost perfidy. At the break of day
horrible spectacles were seen, of groups of dogs disputing the remains of a
man, a woman, and a child." The "Cosmopolite" goes on to insist upon the
necessity of forming a new ministry and of a reform in the two houses.
August 1st.--Have just come in from a drive through the city. The palace
and houses near it are certainly in a melancholy condition. The palace,
with its innumerable smashed windows and battered walls, looks as if it had
become stone blind in consequence of having the smallpox. Broken windows
and walls full of holes characterize all the streets in that direction, yet
there is less real damage done than might have been expected, after such a
furious firing and cannonading.
To read the accounts published, and of the truth of which we had auricular
demonstration, one would have expected to find half the city in ruins. Here
is the sum total of the firing, as published:--"On the 15th, firing from
two o'clock till the next day. On the 16th, continual firing till one
o'clock. Suspension till four o'clock. Firing from that hour, without
intermission, till the following day. 17th, firing from morning till night.
18th, firing from before daybreak till the evening. 19th, continual firing.
Constant emigration of families these last four days. 20th, continual
firing all day. Skirmish at the gate of San Lazaro. 21st, firing continued,
though less hotly, but in the night with more vigour than ever. 22nd, day
of the Junta in the archbishop's palace. Firing began at eleven at night,
and lasted till morning. 23rd, firing till midday. Parley. 24th, formidable
firing, terrible attack, and firing till morning. 25th, firing till the
evening. 26th, firing from six in the morning till two o'clock.
Capitulation that night."
As "every bullet has its billet," they must all have lodged somewhere. Of
course, nothing else is talked of as yet, and every one has his own
personal experiences to recount. Some houses have become nearly
uninhabitable--glass, pictures, clocks, plaster, all lying in morsels about
the floor, and air-holes in the roofs and walls, through which these winged
messengers of destruction have passed. Ladies and children escaped, in many
instances, by the azoteas, going along the street from one roof to another,
not being able to pass where the cannon was planted. The Señora -----, with
her six beautiful boys, escaped in that way to her brother's house, in the
evening, and in the very thick of the firing. I was in her drawing-room
to-day, which has a most forlorn appearance; the floor covered with heaps
of plaster, broken pictures, bullets, broken glass, etc., the windows out,
and holes in the wall that look as if they were made for the pipe of a
stove to fit into.
The soldiers of both parties, who have occupied the roofs of the houses,
behaved with great civility; their officers, on many occasions, sending to
the family with a request that they would complain of any insolence that
might be shown by their men. But no civility could ensure the safety of the
dwellers in these houses.
The poor nuns have been terribly frightened, and have passed these stormy
nights in prayers and hymns, which those who live near their convents say
were frequently heard at midnight, in the intervals of firing.
I went to see the Countess de V---e, and she showed me the great hole in
the wall by her bedside, through which the shell made its _entrée_. The
fragments are still lying there, so heavy that I could not lift them. All
the windows at the head of that street are broken in pieces. The shops are
reopened, however, and people are going about their usual avocations,
pretty much as if nothing had happened; and probably the whole result of
all this confusion and destruction will be--a change of ministry.
Santa Anna, finding that he was not wanted, has modestly retired to Manga
de Clavo, and has addressed the following letter to the Minister of War:
"The triumph which the national arms have just obtained over the horrible
attempts at anarchy, communicated to me by your Excellency, in your note of
the 27th, is very worthy of being celebrated by every citizen who desires
the welfare of his country, always supposing that public vengeance (_la
vindicta pública_) has been satisfied; and in this case, I offer you a
thousand congratulations. This division, although filled with regret at not
having participated on this occasion in the risks of our companions in
arms, are rejoiced at so fortunate an event, and hope that energy and a
wholesome severity will now strengthen order for ever, and will begin an
era of felicity for the country. The happy event has been celebrated here,
in the fortress, and in Tepeyahualco, where the first brigade had already
arrived (and whom I have ordered to countermarch), with every demonstration
of joy. I anxiously desire to receive the details which your Excellency
offers to communicate to me, so that if the danger has entirely ceased, I
may return to my _hacienda_, and may lay down the command of those troops
which your Excellency orders me to preserve here.
"With sentiments of the most lively joy for the cessation of the
misfortunes of the capital, I reiterate to your Excellency those of my
particular esteem.
"God and Liberty.
"ANTONIO LOPEZ DE SANTA ANNA.
"Perote, July 29, 1840."
The houses of Congress are again opened. The Ministers presented themselves
in the Chamber of Deputies, and a short account of the late revolution was
given by General Almonte, who, by the way, was never taken prisoner, as was
at first reported. He had gone out to ride early in the morning, when
General Urrea, with some soldiers, rode up to him and demanded his sword;
telling him that the president was arrested. For all answer, Almonte drew
his sword, and fighting his way through them, galloped to the citadel.
Urrea, riding back, passed by Almonte's house, and politely taking off his
hat, saluted the ladies of the family, hoped they were well, and remarked
on the fineness of the weather. They were not a little astonished when, a
short time after, they heard what had happened.
Madame de C---- and her daughter were out riding when the firing began on
the morning of the revolution, and galloped home in consternation.
7th.--A long discussion to-day in Congress on the propriety of granting
extraordinary powers to the president; also a publication of the despatches
written by Gomez Farias during the revolution. He speaks with the utmost
confidence of the success of his enterprise. In his first letter, he
observes, that General Urrea, with the greater part of the garrison and
people of the capital, have pronounced for the re-establishment of the
federal system, and have, by the most fortunate combination of
circumstances, got possession of the palace, and arrested the president.
That troops have been passing over to them all day, and that the triumph of
the federalists is so sure, he has little doubt that the following morning
will see tranquillity and federalism re-established. The different accounts
of the two parties are rather amusing. It is said that Gomez Farias is
concealed in Mexico....
8th.--Paid a visit to-day, where the lady of the house is a leper; though
it is supposed that all who are afflicted with this scourge are sent to the
hospital of San Lazaro....
We rode before breakfast this morning to the old church of _La Piedad_,
and, on our return, found a packet containing letters from London, Paris,
New York, and Madrid. The arrival of the English packet, which brings all
these _nouveautes_, is about the most interesting event that occurs here.
LETTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH
Visitors--Virgen de los Remedios--_Encarnación_--Fears of the Nuns--Santa
Teresa--Rainy Season--Amusing Scene--"_Esta a la Disposocicion de V._" --
Mexican Sincerity--Texian Vessels--Fine Hair--Schoolmistress--Climate--Its
Effects--Nerves--_Tours de Force_--Anniversary--Speech--Paseo--San Angelo-
-Tacubaya--Army of "The Three Guarantees"--Plan of Yguala--A Murder--
Indian Politeness--Drunkeness--Señor Canedo--Revolutions in Mexico--The
Penon--The Baths--General----Situation and View--Indian Family--Of the
Boiling Springs--Capabilities--Solitude--Chapultepec--The _Desagravios_--
Penitence at San Francisco--Discipline of the Men--Discourse of the Monk--
Darkness and Horrors--Salmagundi.
August 30th
In the political world nothing very interesting has occurred and as yet
there is no change of ministry. Yesterday morning C---n set off in a
coach-and-six for the valley of Toluca, about eighteen leagues from Mexico,
with a rich Spaniard, Señor M---r y T---n, who has a large hacienda there.
Last Sunday morning, being the first Sunday since the revolution, we had
forty visitors--ladies and gentlemen, English, French, Spanish, and
Mexican. Such varieties of dresses and languages I have seldom seen united
in one room; and so many anecdotes connected with the _pronunciamento_ as
were related, some grave, some ludicrous, that would form a volume! The
Baron de ----- having just left this for your part of the world, you will
learn by him the last intelligence of it and of us.
As there is a want of rain, the Virgen de los Remedios was brought into
Mexico, but as there is still a slight ripple on the face of the
lately-troubled waters, she was carried in privately--for all reunions of
people are dreaded at this juncture, I had just prepared pieces of velvet
and silk to hang on the balconies, when I found that the procession had
gone by a back street after sunset.
I went lately to visit the nuns of the _Encarnación_, to inquire how they
stood their alarms, for their convent had been filled with soldiers, and
they had been in the very heart of the firing. I was welcomed by a figure
covered from head to foot with a double black crape veil, who expressed
great joy at _seeing_ me again, and told me she was one of the madres who
received us before. She spoke with horror of the late revolution, and of
the state of fear and trembling in which they had passed their time;
soldiers within their very walls, and their prayers interrupted by volleys
of cannon. Thanks to the intercession of the Virgin, no accident had
occurred; but she added, that had the Virgin of los Remedios been brought
in sooner, these disorders might never have taken place.
I went from thence to the convent of Santa Teresa, where I saw no one, but
discoursed with a number of _voices_, from the shrill treble of the old
_Madre Priora_, to the full cheerful tones of my friend the Madre A----.
There is something rather awful in sending one's voice in this way into an
unknown region, and then listening for a response from the unseen dwellers
there. I have not yet been inside this convent, but now that affairs are
settled for the present, I trust that the archbishop will kindly grant his
permission to that effect.
The rainy season is now at its height; that is, it rains severely every
evening, but in the morning it is lovely. The disagreeable part of it is,
that the roads are so bad, it is difficult to continue our rides in the
environs. Horse and rider, after one of these expeditions, appear to have
been taking a mud-bath. It is very amusing to stand at the window about
four o'clock, and see every one suddenly caught in the most tremendous
shower. In five minutes the streets become rivers; and canoes would be
rather more useful than carriages. Strong porters (_cargadores_) are in
readiness to carry well-dressed gentlemen or women who are caught in the
deluge, across the streets. Coachmen and footmen have their great-coats
prepared to draw on; and all horsemen have their sarapes strapped behind
their saddles, in which, with their shining leather hats, they can brave
the storm. Trusting to an occasional cessation of rain, which sometimes
takes place, people continue to go out in the evening, but it is downright
cruelty to coachmen and animals, unless the visit is to a house with a
_porte-cochère_, which many of the houses have--this amongst others.
September 1st.--Had a dispute this morning with an Englishman, who
complains bitterly of Mexican insincerity. I believe the chief cause of
this complaint amongst foreigners consists in their attaching the slightest
value to the common phrase, "_Está a la disposición de V._" Everything is
placed at your disposal--house, carriage, servants, horses, mules,
etc.--the lady's earrings, the gentleman's diamond pin, the child's frock.
You admire a ring--it is perfectly at your service; a horse--ditto. Letters
are dated "from your house;" (_de la casa de V._) Some from ignorance of
the custom, and others from knavery, take advantage of these offers, which
are mere expressions of civility, much to the confusion and astonishment of
the polite _offerer_, who has no more intention of being credited, than you
have when, from common etiquette, you sign yourself the very humble servant
of the very greatest bore. It is a mere habit, and to call people who
indulge in it insincere, reminds me of the Italian mentioned somewhere by
Lady Blessington, who thought he had made a conquest of a fair
Englishwoman, though somewhat shocked by her forwardness, because, in an
indifferent note to him, she signed herself "_Truly yours_." Shall I ever
forget the crestfallen countenance of a Mexican gentleman who had just
purchased a very handsome set of London harness, when hearing it admired by
a Frenchman, he gave the customary answer, "It is quite at your disposal,"
and was answered by a profusion of bows, and a ready acceptance of the
offer! the only difficulty with the Frenchman being as to whether or not he
could carry it home under his cloak, which he did.
If all these offers of service, in which it is Mexican etiquette to
indulge, be believed in--"Remember that I am here but to serve you"--"My
house and everything in it is quite at your disposal"--"Command me in all
things;" we shall of course be disappointed by finding that,
notwithstanding these reiterated assurances, we must hire a house for
ourselves, and even servants to wait on us; but take these expressions at
what they are worth, and I believe we shall find that people here are about
as sincere as their neighbours.
8th.--A good deal of surmise, because four Texian vessels are cruising in
the bay off Vera Cruz. There is also a good deal of political talk, but I
have no longer Madame de Stael's excuse for interfering in politics, which,
by the way, is a subject on which almost all Mexican women are well
informed; possessing practical knowledge, the best of all, like a lesson in
geography given by travelling. I fear we live in a Paradise Lost, which
will not be regained in our day....
My attention is attracted, while I write, by the apparition of a beautiful
girl in the opposite balcony, with hair of a golden brown hanging in masses
down to her feet. This is an uncommon colour here; but the hair of the
women is generally very long and fine. It rarely or never curls. We were
amused the other day in passing by a school of little boys and girls, kept
in a room on the first- floor of Señor -----'s house, to see the
schoolmistress, certainly not in a very elegant _dishabille_, marching up
and down with a spelling-book in her hand, her long hair hanging down, and
trailing on the floor a good half-yard behind her; while every time she
turned, she switched it round like a court-train....
You ask me about this climate, for -----. For one who, like her, is in
perfect health, I should think it excellent; and even an invalid has only
to travel a few hours, and he arrives at _tierra caliente_. This climate is
that of the tropics, raised some thousand feet above the level of the sea;
consequently there is an extreme purity and thinness of the atmosphere,
which generally affects the breathing at first. In some it causes an
oppression on the chest. On me, it had little effect, if any; and at all
events, the feeling goes off, after the first month or so. There is a
general tendency to nervous irritation, and to inflammatory complaints, and
during September and October, on account of the heavy rains and the drained
lakes on which part of the city is built, there is said to be a good deal
of ague. Since the time of the cholera in 1833, which committed terrible
ravages here, there has been no other epidemic. The smallpox indeed has
been very common lately, but it is owing to the carelessness of the common
people, or rather to their prejudice against having their children
vaccinated.
The nervous complaints of the ladies are an unfailing source of profit to
the sons of Galen, for they seem to be incurable. Having no personal
experience in these evils, I speak only from what I see in others. It
appears to me that the only fault of the climate consists in its being
monotonously perfect, which is a great drawback to easy and polite
conversation. The evening deluge is but a periodical watering of the earth,
from which it rises like Venus from the sea, more lovely and refreshed than
ever.
C---n has returned from Toluca, after an absence of eight days. Every one
is hurrying to the theatre just now, in spite of the rain, to see some
Spaniards, who are performing _tours de force_ there.
16th.--Celebration of the Day of Independence, Anniversary of the
"_Glorioso Grito de Dolores_," of September the 16th, 1810; of the
revolution begun thirty years ago, by the curate of the village of Dolores
in the province of Gunanajuato. "It is very easy," says Zavala, it is about
the most sensible remark, "to put a country into combustion, when it
possesses the elements of discord; but the difficulties of its re-
organization are infinite."
A speech was made by General Tornel in the Alameda. All the troops were
out--plenty of officers, monks, priests, and ladies, in full dress. We did
not go to hear the speech, but went to the E----'s house to see the
procession, which was very magnificent. The line of carriages was so deep,
that I thought we should never arrive. After all was over, we walked in the
Alameda, where temporary booths were erected, and the trees were hung with
garlands and flowers. The paseo in the evening was extremely gay; but I
cannot say that there appeared to be much enthusiasm or public spirit. They
say that the great difficulty experienced by the _Junta_, named on these
occasions for the preparation of these festivities, is to collect
sufficient funds.
19th.--We went yesterday to San Angelo, one of the prettiest villages in
the environs of Mexico, and spent the day at the hacienda of Señor T---e,
which is in the neighbourhood. The rain has rendered the roads almost
impassible, and the country round Mexico must be more like Cortes's
description of it at this season, than at any other period. One part of the
road near the hacienda, which is entirely destroyed, the owner of the house
wished to repair; but the Indians, who claim that part of the land, will
not permit the innovation, though he offered to throw a bridge over a small
stream which passes there, at his own expense.
24th.--We passed a pleasant day at Tacubaya, and dined with Monsieur S----,
who gave a fête in consequence of its being his wife's saint's day.
27th.--Great fête; being the anniversary of the day on which the army
called the _trigarante_ (the three guarantees) entered Mexico with Yturbide
at their head. The famous plan of Iguala, (so called from having been first
published in that city,) was also called the plan of the three guarantees;
freedom, union, and religion, which were offered as a security to the
Spaniards, against whom so many cruelties had been exercised. We have had
ringing of bells and firing all the morning, and in the evening there is to
be a bull-fight, followed by the exhibition of the _tours de force_ of
these Spaniards, commonly called here "_los Hercules_," who have just come
to offer us a box in the Plaza.
This plan of the Iguala was certainly the only means by which Spain could
have continued to preserve these vast and distant possessions. The treaty
of Cordova, which confirmed it, was signed in that city between the Spanish
General O'Donoju and Don Agustin Yturbide, in August 1821, and consisted of
seventeen articles.
By the first, Mexico was to be acknowledged as a free and independent
nation, under the title of the Mexican empire.
By the second, its government was to be a constitutional monarchy.
By the third, Ferdinand VII, Catholic King of Spain, was called to the
throne of Mexico; and should he renounce or refuse the throne, it was
offered to his brother the Infant Don Carlos, and under the same
circumstances, to each brother in succession.
By the fourth, the emperor was to fix his court in Mexico, which was to be
considered the capital of the empire.
By the fifth, two commissioners named by O'Donoju were to pass over to the
Spanish court, to place the copy of the treaty and of the accompanying
exposition in his majesty's hands, to serve him as an antecedent, until the
Cortes should offer him the crown with all formality; requesting him to
inform the Infantes of the order in which they were named; interposing his
influence in order that the Emperor of Mexico should be one of his august
house, for the interest of both nations, and that the Mexicans might add
this link to the chain of friendship which united them with the Spaniards.
By the sixth, a _Junta_ of the first men in Mexico; first by their virtues,
position, fortune, etc., was to be named, sufficient in number to ensure
success in their resolutions by the union of so much talent and
information.
By the seventh, this Junta takes the name of the Administrative Provincial
Junta.
By the eighth, O'Donoju was named member of this Junta.
By the ninth, this Junta was to name a president.
By the tenth, it was to inform the public of its installation, and of the
motives which had caused it to meet.
By the eleventh, this assembly was to name a regency, composed of three
persons, to compose the executive power, and to govern in the name of the
monarch, until his arrival.
By the twelfth, the Junta was then to govern conformably to the laws, in
everything which did not oppose the plan of Iguala, and till the Cortes had
formed the constitution of the state.
By the thirteenth, the regency, as soon as they were named, were to proceed
to the convocation of the Cortes, according to the method decreed by the
provisional Junta.
By the fourteenth, the executive power was to reside in the regency--the
legislative in the Cortes--but until the reunion of the Cortes, the
legislative power was to be exercised by the Junta.
By the fifteenth, all persons belonging to the community, the system of
government being changed, or the country passing into the power of another
prince, were perfectly at liberty to transport themselves and their
fortunes wherever they chose, etc., etc.
By the sixteenth, this does not hold good in regard to the military or
public _employés_ disaffected to the Mexican independence; they will leave
the empire within the term prescribed by the regency, etc., etc.
By the seventeenth and last, as the occupation of the capital by the
peninsula troops is an obstacle to the realization of the treaty, this
difficulty must be vanquished; but as the chief of the imperial army
desires to bring this about, not by force, but by gentler means, General
O'Donoju offers to employ his authority with the troops, that they may
leave the capital without any effusion of blood, and by an honourable
treaty. This treaty was signed by Yturbide and O'Donoju.
Had this plan of Iguala taken effect, what would have been the result in
Mexico?--what its present condition?...
This being Sunday, and a fête-day, a man was murdered close by our door, in
a quarrel brought about probably through the influence of pulque, or rather
of _chinguirite_. If they did not so often end in deadly quarrel, there
would be nothing so amusing as to watch the Indians gradually becoming a
little intoxicated. They are at first so polite--handing the pulque-jar to
their fair companions (fair being taken in the general or _Pickwickian_
sense of the word); always taking off their hats to each other, and if they
meet a woman, kissing her hand with an humble bow as if she were a
duchess;--but these same women are sure to be the cause of a quarrel,
and then out come these horrible knives--and then, _Adios!_
It is impossible to conceive anything more humble and polite than the
common country-people. Men and women stop and wish you a good day,
the men holding their hats in their hands, and all showing their white
teeth, and faces lighted up by careless good-nature. I regret to state,
however, that to-day there are a great many women quite as tipsy as the
men, returning home after the fête, and increasing the distance to their
village, by taking a zigzag direction through the streets....
Señor Canedo, Secretary of State, has formally announced his intention of
resigning. Certainly the situation of premier in Mexico, at this moment, is
far from enviable, and the more distinguished and clear-headed the
individual, the more plainly he perceives the impossibility of remedying
the thickly-gathering evils which crowd the political horizon.
"Revolution," says Señor de -----, "has followed revolution since the
Independence; no stable government has yet been established. Had it
been so, Mexico would have offered to our eyes a phenomenon unknown
until now in the world--that of a people, without previous preparation,
passing at once to govern themselves by democratical institutions."
28th.--We drove out to the _Peñon_, a natural boiling fountain, where there
are baths, which are considered a universal remedy, a pool of Bethesda, but
an especial one for rheumatic complaints. The baths are a square of low
stone buildings, with a church--each building containing five or six empty
rooms, in one of which is a square bath. The idea seems to have been to
form a sort of dwelling-house for different families, as each bath has a
small kitchen attached to it. Like most _great ideas_ of Spanish days, it
is now in a state of perfect desolation, though people still flock there
for various complaints. When one goes there to bathe, it is necessary to
carry a mattress, to lie down on when you leave the bath, linen, a bottle
of cold water, of which there is not a drop in the place, and which is
particularly necessary for an invalid in case of faintness--in short
everything that you may require. A poor family live there to take charge of
the baths, and there is a small tavern where they sell spirits and pulque;
and occasionally a padre comes on Sunday to say mass in the old church.
We were amused by meeting there with General ----- and his family, who had
brought with them a whole coachload of provisions, besides mattresses,
sheets, etc. The road to the Peñon crosses the most dreary plain
imaginable. Behind the baths are two volcanic hills; and the view of Mexico
and of the great volcanoes from this is magnificent. It is the most
solitary of buildings; not a tree to be seen in its environs; these
volcanic rocks behind--Mexico fronting it--the great lakes near it--to the
right Guadalupe--to the left San Angel, San Agustin, and the mountains
which bound the valley. The Indian family who live there are handsome
savages; and the girl who attended me at the bath spoke an extraordinary
jargon, half Spanish, half Indian, but was a fine specimen of savage good
looks. The water is extremely warm, and my curiosity to try its temperature
was very soon satisfied.
These boiling springs are said to contain sulphate of lime, carbonic acid,
and muriate of soda, and the Indians make salt in their neighbourhood,
precisely as they did in the time of Montezuma, with the difference, as
Humboldt informs us, that then they used vessels of clay, and now they use
copper caldrons. The solitary-looking baths are ornamented with odd-looking
heads of cats or monkeys, which grin down upon you with a mixture of the
sinister and facetious rather appalling.
The Señora de ----- insisted on my partaking of her excellent luncheon
after the bath. We could not help thinking, were these baths in the hands
of some enterprising and speculative Yankee, what a fortune he would make;
how he would build an hotel _á la_ Sarratoga, would paper the rooms, and
otherwise beautify this uncouth temple of boiling water.
There is an indescribable feeling of solitude in all houses in the environs
of Mexico, a vastness, a desolation, such as I never before experienced in
the most lonely dwellings in other countries. It is not sad--the sky is too
bright, and nature too smiling, and the air we inhale too pure for that. It
is a sensation of being entirely out of the world, and alone with a giant
nature, surrounded by faint traditions of a bygone race; and the feeling is
not diminished, when the silence is broken by the footstep of the passing
Indian, the poor and debased descendant of that extraordinary and
mysterious people, who came, we know not whence, and whose posterity are
now "hewers of wood and drawers of water," on the soil where they once were
monarchs.
In Chapultepec especially, near as it is to a large and populous city, the
traditions of the past come so strongly upon the mind, that one would
rather look for the apparition of a whole band of these inky-haired
adder-anointed priests of Montezuma, than expect to meet with the
benevolent-looking archbishop, who, in purple robes, occasionally walks
under the shade of the majestic cypresses.
All Mexicans at present, men and women, are engaged in what are called the
_desagravios_, a public penance performed at this season in the churches,
during thirty-five days. The women attend church in the morning, no men
being permitted to enter, and the men in the evening, when women are not
admitted. Both rules are occasionally broken. The penitence of the men is
most severe, their sins being no doubt proportionably greater than those of
the women; though it is one of the few countries where they suffer for
this, or seem to act upon the principle, that "if all men had their
deserts, who should escape whipping?"
To-day we attended the morning penitence at six o'clock, in the church of
San Francisco; the hardest part of which was their having to kneel for
about ten minutes with their arms extended in the form of a cross, uttering
groans; a most painful position for any length of time. It is a profane
thought, but I dare say so many hundreds of beautifully-formed arms and
hands were seldom seen extended at the same moment before. Gloves not being
worn in church, and many of the women having short sleeves, they were very
much seen.
But the other night I was present at a much stranger scene, at the
discipline performed by the men; admission having been procured for us, by
certain means, _private but powerful_. Accordingly, when it was dark,
enveloped from head to foot in large cloaks, and without the slightest idea
of what it was, we went on foot through the streets to the church of San
Agustin. When we arrived, a small side-door apparently opened of itself,
and we entered, passing through long vaulted passages, and up steep winding
stairs, till we found ourselves in a small railed gallery, looking down
directly upon the church. The scene was curious. About one hundred and
fifty men, enveloped in cloaks and sarapes, their faces entirely concealed,
were assembled in the body of the church. A monk had just mounted the
pulpit, and the church was dimly lighted, except where he stood in bold
relief, with his gray robes and cowl thrown back, giving a full view of his
high bald forehead and expressive face.
His discourse was a rude but very forcible and eloquent description of the
torments prepared in hell for impenitent sinners. The effect of the whole
was very solemn. It appeared like a preparation for the execution of a
multitude of condemned criminals. When the discourse was finished, they all
joined in prayer with much fervour and enthusiasm, beating their breasts
and falling upon their faces. Then the monk stood up, and in a very
distinct voice, read several passages of scripture descriptive of the
sufferings of Christ. The organ then struck up the _Miserere,_ and all of a
sudden the church was plunged in profound darkness; all but a sculptured
representation of the Crucifixion, which seemed to hang in the air
illuminated. I felt rather frightened, and would have been very glad to
leave the church, but it would have been impossible in the darkness.
Suddenly, a terrible voice in the dark cried, "My brothers! when Christ was
fastened to the pillar by the Jews, he was _scourged!_" At these words, the
bright figure disappeared, and the darkness became total. Suddenly, we
heard the sound of hundreds of scourges descending upon the bare flesh. I
cannot conceive anything more horrible. Before ten minutes had passed, the
sound became _splashing,_ from the blood that was flowing.
I have heard of these penitences in Italian churches, and also that half of
those who go there do not really scourge themselves; but here where there
is such perfect concealment, there seems no motive for deception.
Incredible as it may seem, this awful penance continued, without
intermission, for half an hour! If they scourged _each other,_ their energy
might be less astonishing.
We could not leave the church, but it was perfectly sickening; and had I
not been able to take hold of the Señora -----'s hand, and feel something
human beside me, I could have fancied myself transported into a
congregation of evil spirits. Now and then, but very seldom, a suppressed
groan was heard, and occasionally the voice of the monk encouraging them by
ejaculations, or by short passages from Scripture. Sometimes the organ
struck up, and the poor wretches, in a faint voice, tried to join in the
_Miserere_. The sound of the scourging is indescribable. At the end of half
an hour a little bell was rung, and the voice of the monk was heard,
calling upon them to desist; but such was their enthusiasm, that the
horrible lashing continued louder and fiercer than ever.
In vain he entreated them not to kill themselves; and assured them that
heaven would be satisfied, and that human nature could not endure beyond a
certain point. No answer, but the loud sound of the scourges, which are
many of them of iron, with sharp points that enter the flesh. At length, as
if they were perfectly exhausted, the sound grew fainter, and little by
little ceased altogether. We then got up in the dark, and, with great
difficulty, groped our way in the pitch darkness through the galleries and
down the stairs, till we reached the door, and had the pleasure of feeling
the fresh air again. They say that the church-floor is frequently covered
with blood after one of these penances, and that a man died the other day
in consequence of his wounds.
I then went to the house of the ----- Minister, where there was a
_reunion_, and where I found the company comfortably engaged in eating a
very famous kind of German salad, composed of herrings, smoked salmon, cold
potatoes, and apples; (salmagundi?) and drinking hot punch. After the cold,
darkness, and horrors of the church, this formed rather a contrast; and it
was some time before I could shake off the disagreeable impression left by
the _desagravios_, and join in the conversation....
Along with this you will receive some Mexican airs, which I have written by
ear from hearing them played, and of some of which I gave you the words in
a former letter.
[Illustration: MEXICAN AIRS See Letters 12th and 16th. JARAVE PALAMO.]
[Illustration: LOS ENANOS.]
[Illustration: PERICO.]
[Illustration: EL AFORRADO.]
LETTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH
Fête-day--Friendly Hint--Precautions--General Tranquillity--President in
San Agustin--Revisit Museum--Ancient Manuscripts--Sculpture--Bronze Bust,
etc.--Freshness after Rain--Ball at the French Minister's--Pamphlet--
Gutierrez Estrada--His Character--Concealment--_Mexicalsingo_--Minister of
the Treasury--Archbishop's Permission--Paintings--Mexican Painters--Santa
Teresa--Description of the Interior--The Penitences--Tortures--
Disciplines, etc.--Supper--Profane Ballads--Monasteries--San Francisco--
_Padre Prior_--Soldiers and Friars.
October 3rd.
Yesterday being C---n's fête-day, we had a dinner and small _soirée_, and
according to custom, visits the whole day. A very agreeable guest from
Havana, Don J---- A----, arrived to spend a few weeks with us. We had
rather a pleasant party, and some good singing; but just as dancing had
begun, C----n took me aside, and showed me a little friendly note which he
had received while at dinner, from General -----, in which he informs him
that the robbers would in all probability attack our respective houses that
night; that he had taken his precautions, and advises C---n to do the same,
in the understanding that, if necessary, they should mutually assist each
other. A pleasant piece of intelligence! The thing got whispered about, and
some of the ladies looked a little blank at the information; but there
could be no risk while so many persons were collected. About one they went
away, and C---n sent for some soldiers to keep watch all night. Nothing
happened, as no doubt the robbers found out what precautions had been
taken. The intended attack had been discovered by a servant of the
general's, who heard them discussing the matter in the back-room of a
pulque-shop.
We have been obliged to procure two old soldiers as porters, in lieu of the
two who were shot in the revolution; for though not killed, they are
entirely disabled for the present.
Mexico appears particularly quiet just now; and whatever storms may be
preparing, no symptoms are visible to the uninitiated eye. The palace has
got in its glass eyes again, and externally is almost entirely repaired;
but it is not yet fit for the residence of the president, who still _holds
his court_ in the convent of San Agustin. I have been driving about with
our Havana friend, like an old resident, showing the beauties of Mexico to
a stranger. We have been in the Mineria, Museum, Botanical Garden, Biscay
College, etc., all of which can bear revision.
The Museum especially, which, owing to the want of arrangement and
classification in the antiquities, and the manner in which they are crowded
together in the different rooms of the university, appears at first
undeserving of much attention, improves upon acquaintance. It is only since
the year '25 that it was established by the government, and various plans
have been since made for enriching and arranging it, and also for
transporting it to the old building of the Inquisition. But as yet nothing
essential has been carried into effect.
It contains upwards of two hundred historical manuscripts, some in
hieroglyphical characters anterior to the conquest, and many in the
different ancient languages of the country. Of the ancient sculpture, it
possesses two colossal statues and many smaller ones, besides a variety of
busts, heads, figures of animals, masks, and instruments of music or of
war, curiously engraved, and indicating the different degrees of
civilization of the different nations to whom they belonged. A great many
of the vases of _tecal_, and of the candlesticks in clay, curiously worked,
were drawn from excavations in the Isle of Sacrifices, near Vera Cruz, from
Oajaca, etc., and from the suburbs of Mexico. There is also a collection of
very ancient medals to the number of six hundred, a bronze bust of Philip
V, and about two hundred Mexican paintings, comprehending two collections
of the portraits of the Spanish viceroys, many of the celebrated Cabrera's,
and various dresses, arms, and utensils, from both the Californias. In the
cabinet of natural history there is a good collection of minerals, and some
very fine specimens of gold and silver. But in the animal or vegetable
branch of natural history there is a great deficiency, and altogether the
museum is not worthy of a country which seems destined by nature to be the
great emporium of all natural science.
Of course we have revisited old Chapultepec and Our Lady of Guadalupe, with
her Legend and Holy Well. In the morning we have rode to Tacubaya and the
environs, and the weather at that early hour has the most indescribable
freshness, caused by the evening rains. Everything looks bright and
sparkling. The Peruvian trees, with their bending green branches and
bunches of scarlet berries, glitter with the heavy rain-drops, and even the
hoary cypresses of Chapultepec sparkle with water in all their gigantic
branches. Little pools have become ponds, and ditches rivulets, and
frequently it is rather wading than riding, which is not so pleasant.
24th.--Last evening we had a very pretty ball in the house of the French
Minister, where all the Paris furniture was very effective. There were as
usual plenty of diamonds, and some handsome dresses--mine white satin, with
flowers.
25th.-The whole world is talking of a pamphlet written by Señor Gutierrez
Estrada, which has just appeared, and seems likely to cause a greater
sensation in Mexico than the discovery of the gunpowder plot in England.
Its sum and substance is the proposal of a constitutional Monarchy in
Mexico, with a foreign prince (not named) at its head, as the only remedy
for the evils by which it is afflicted. The pamphlet is written merely in a
speculative form, inculcating no sanguinary measures, or sudden revolution;
but the consequences are likely to be most disastrous to the fearless and
public-spirited author. Even those who most question his prudence in taking
this step, agree that in this, as well as in every other political action
of his life, he has acted from thorough conviction and from motives of the
purest patriotism, unalloyed by one personal feeling; indeed, entirely
throwing behind him every consideration of personal or family interest,
which even the best men allow to have some weight with them on such
occasions.
In a political review of Mexico, written some years ago by a Mexican who
deals fearlessly, and it would seem impartially, with the characters of all
the leading men of that period, I find some remarks on Señor Gutierrez
Estrada, which you will place more faith in, as coming from a less partial
source than from persons so attached as we are to him and his family. In
speaking of the conduct of the administration, he says--"Señor Gutierrez
Estrada was one of the few who remained firm in his ideas, and above all,
true to his political engagements. This citizen is a native of the State of
Yucatan, where his family, who are distinguished in every point of view,
reside. It is unnecessary to say that Gutierrez received a thorough and
brilliant education, as it is sufficient to have conversed with him to
discover this fact; nor that he knew how to turn it to account in the
career of public service to which he devoted himself, and in which he has
remained pure and unblemished in the midst of a corrupt class. From the
first he was destined to the European legations, on account of his fluency
in speaking and writing both English and French; and he is one of the few
who have employed their time usefully in the capitals of the Old World.
Flexible by nature, honourable by education, and expeditious in business,
his services have been perfect, and above all, loyal and conscientious." He
goes on to say that, "notwithstanding the gentleness of his temper, his
political conscience is so firm and pure, that he will never yield in what
he considers his obligation, _even when it interferes with the most
intimate friendships,_ or most weighty considerations." One would think
that the writer had foreseen the present emergency. I have not yet read the
pamphlet which the friends of the author consider an equal proof of his
noble independence, bold patriotism, and vast information; being, to say
the truth, much more interested in its domestic effects than in its public
results, or even its intrinsic merits.
26th.--Soldiers were sent to the house of the Countess de la C---a, to
arrest her son-in-law, but in compliance with the entreaties of his family,
he had gone into concealment. I found them in great affliction, but they
are so accustomed to political persecution from one party or another,
particularly the countess, that her courage has never deserted her for a
moment. He is accused in Congress--in the senate-house--a proclamation is
made by the president, anathematizing his principles--even the printer of
the pamphlet is thrown into prison. Nothing else is spoken of, and the
general irritation is so terrible, that it is to be hoped his place of
concealment is secure; otherwise the consequences may be fatal.
_On pretend_ that many distinguished men here hold the same opinions, but
their voices, even were they to venture to raise them, could not stem the
tide of public indignation. The most offended are naturally the military
men.... In short, Señor Gutierrez, who has been passing four years abroad,
in countries where hundreds of obscure scribblers daily advocate
republicanism or any wild theory that strikes their fancy, with the most
perfect security, was probably hardly aware of the extraordinary ferment
which such a pamphlet was likely to produce at the present juncture.
27th.--A few days before Señor A---- left us, we went up the canal in a
canoe, as far as Santa Anita, to show him all that remains of the
Chinampas. It is as pleasant a way of passing an evening as any that I know
of here.
We drove lately to Mexicalsingo, where there is a cave in which there is a
figure of our Saviour, which they pretend has lately appeared there.
The excitement concerning the pamphlet seems rather to increase than
diminish, but Señor Gutierrez has many devoted friends, and the place of
his retreat is secure. There is little doubt that he will be forced to fly
the country.
29th. Señor Don Xavier Hechavarria, Minister of the Treasury, has sent in
his resignation. Being a man of large private fortune, extremely simple in
his habits, and the most amiable of men in domestic life, I believe that no
Minister has ever thrown off with more unaffected satisfaction the burden
of state affairs, or will enjoy his retreat from public life with more true
philosophy.
I have been so much interested in the affairs of the C---a family, that I
have forgotten to tell you of my having obtained permission from the
archbishop to visit the Santa Teresa, accompanied by one young married
lady, who has a sister there. The archbishop desired that our visit should
be kept a secret; but it has _oozed_ out by some means or other, probably
through the nuns themselves, and exposed him to so much inconvenience and
such a torrent of solicitations from those ladies who, having daughters or
sisters amongst the nuns, are naturally most desirous to see them, that I
fear, notwithstanding his good nature, he will put a veto on all my future
applications. You will think I pass my time in convents, but I find no
other places half so interesting, and you know I always had a fancy that
way.
In some of these convents there still exist, buried alive like the inmates,
various fine old paintings; amongst others, some of the Flemish school,
brought to Mexico by the monks, at the time when the Low Countries were
under Spanish dominion. Many masters also of the Mexican school, such as
Enriquez, Cabrera, etc., have enriched the cloisters with their
productions, and employed their talent on holy subjects, such as the lives
of the saints, the martyrs, and other Christian subjects. Everywhere,
especially, there are _Cabreras_, an artist somewhat in the Luca Giordano
style; the same monotony, facility, and "_fa presto Luca!_" All his
pictures are agreeable, and some strikingly beautiful. Occasionally he
copies from the old masters, but rarely. Ximenes and Enriquez are not so
common, and some of their productions are very good, and deserve to be
better known than I imagine they are in Europe. They are a branch of the
Spanish school, and afford striking proofs of the extraordinary talent of
the Mexicans for the fine arts, as well as of the facilities which the
mother-country afforded them.
But it is in the convent of the Profesa that the finest paintings are, and
there I cannot enter! The galleries are full of paintings, the most part by
Cabrera; and C---n speaks with enthusiasm of one exceedingly beautiful
painting, in the sacristy of the chapel, said to be an original Guido,
being a representation of Christ tied to the pillar and scourged; in which
the expression of pure divinity and suffering humanity is finely blended,
and well contrasted with savage cruelty in the countenances of his
executioners. But most of these paintings are neglected, and so falling to
decay that it is pitiable to look at them.
The Santa Teresa, however, has few ornaments. It is not nearly so large as
the _Encarnación_, and admits but twenty-one nuns. At present there are,
besides these, but three novices. Its very atmosphere seems holy, and its
scrupulous and excessive cleanness makes all profane dwellings appear dirty
by comparison. We were accompanied by a bishop, Señor Madrid, the same who
assisted at the archbishop's consecration--a good-looking man, young and
tall, and very splendidly dressed. His robes were of purple satin, covered
with fine point-lace, with a large cross of diamonds and amethysts. He also
wore a cloak of very fine purple cloth, lined with crimson velvet, crimson
stockings, and an immense amethyst ring.
When he came in we found that the nuns had permission to put up their
veils, rarely allowed in this order in the presence of strangers. They have
a small garden and fountain, plenty of flowers, and some fruit, but all is
on a smaller scale, and sadder than in the convent of the Incarnation. The
refectory is a large room, with a long narrow table running all round it--a
plain deal table, with wooden benches; before the place of each nun, an
earthen bowl, an earthen cup with an apple in it, a wooden plate and a
wooden spoon; at the top of the table a grinning skull, to remind them that
even these indulgences they shall not long enjoy.
In one corner of the room is a reading-desk, a sort of elevated pulpit,
where one reads aloud from some holy book, whilst the others discuss their
simple fare. They showed us a crown of thorns, which, on certain days, is
worn by one of their number, by way of penance. It is made of iron, so that
the nails entering inwards, run into the head, and make it bleed. While she
wears this on her head, a sort of wooden bit is put into her mouth, and she
lies prostrate on her face till dinner is ended; and while in this
condition her food is given her, of which she eats as much as she can,
which probably is none.
We visited the different cells, and were horror-struck at the
self-inflicted tortures. Each bed consists of a wooden plank raised in the
middle, and on days of penitence crossed by wooden bars. The pillow is
wooden, with a cross lying on it, which they hold in their hands when they
lie down. The nun lies on this penitential couch, embracing the cross, and
her feet hanging out, as the bed is made too short for her upon principle.
Round her waist she occasionally wears a band with iron points turning
inwards; on her breast a cross with nails, of which the points enter the
flesh, of the truth of which I had melancholy ocular demonstration. Then,
after having scourged herself with a whip covered with iron nails, she lies
down for a few hours on the wooden bars, and rises at four o'clock. All
these instruments of discipline, which each nun keeps in a little box
beside her bed, look as if their fitting place would be in the dungeons of
the Inquisition. They made me try their _bed and board_, which I told them
would give me a very decided taste for early rising.
Yet they all seem as cheerful as possible, though it must be confessed that
many of them look pale and unhealthy. It is said, that when they are strong
enough to stand this mode of life, they live very long; but it frequently
happens that girls who come into this convent, are obliged to leave it from
sickness, long before the expiration of their novitiate. I met with the
girl whom I had seen take the veil, and cannot say that she looked either
well or cheerful, though she assured me, that "of course, in doing the will
of God," she was both. There was not much beauty amongst them generally,
though one or two had remains of great loveliness. My friend, the Madre
A----, is handsomer on a closer view than I had supposed her, and seems an
especial favourite with old and young. But there was one whose face must
have been strikingly beautiful. She was as pale as marble, and though still
young, seemed in very delicate health; but her eyes and eyebrows as black
as jet, the eyes so large and soft, the eyebrows two pencilled arches; and
her smiles so resigned and sweet, would have made her the loveliest model
imaginable for a Madonna.
Again, as in the Incarnation, they had taken the trouble to prepare an
elegant supper for us. The bishop took his place in an antique velvet
chair, the Señora ----- and I were placed on each side of him. The room was
very well lighted, and there was as great a profusion of custards, jellies,
and ices, as if we had been supping at the most profane _cafe_. The nuns
did not sit down, but walked about, pressing us to eat, the bishop now and
then giving them cakes, with permission to eat them, which they received
laughing. They have the most humble and caressing manners, and really
appear to be the most amiable and excellent women in the world. They seem
to make no ostentation of virtue, but to be seriously impressed with the
conviction that they have chosen the true road to salvation; nor are there
in them any visible symptoms of that spiritual pride from which few
devotees are exempt.
After supper a small harp was brought in, which had been sent for by the
bishop's permission. It was terribly out of tune, with half the strings
broke; but we were determined to grudge no trouble in putting it in order,
and giving these poor recluses what they considered so great a
gratification. We got it into some sort of condition at last, and when they
heard it played, they were vehement in their expressions of delight. The
Señora -----, who has a charming voice, afterwards sang to them, the bishop
being very indulgent, and permitting us to select whatever songs we chose,
so that when rather a profane canticle, "The Virgin of the Pillar" (La
Virgen del Pilar), was sung, he very kindly turned a deaf ear to it, and
seemed busily engaged in conversation with an old madre, till it was all
over.
We were really sorry to leave them; particularly as it is next to
impossible that we shall ever see them again; and it seemed as if in a few
hours a friendship had been formed between us and these recluses, whose
sensations are so few, they must be the more lasting. The thoughts of these
poor women cost me a sad and sleepless night. They have sent me some wax
figures, dressed in the costumes of the different orders, beginning with
their own. They wear the coarsest and hardest stuff next their skin, in
itself a perpetual penance.
In these robes they are buried; and one would think that if any human being
can ever leave this world without a feeling of regret, it must be a nun of
the Santa Teresa, when, her privations in this world ended, she lays down
her blameless life, and joins the pious sisterhood who have gone before
her; dying where she has lived, surrounded by her companions, her last
hours soothed by their prayers and tears, sure of their vigils for the
repose of her soul, and above all, sure that neither pleasure nor vanity
will ever obliterate her remembrance from their hearts.
At matins, at vespers, at the simple board, at the nightly hymn, she will
be missed from their train. Her empty cell will recall her to their eyes;
her dust will be profaned by no stranger's footstep, and though taken away
she still seems to remain amongst them....
As for the monasteries, not only no woman can enter, but it is said, with
what truth I know not, that a vice-queen having insisted on the privilege
of her vice-royalty to enter, the gallery and every place which her
footsteps desecrated were unpaved. This was very Saint Senanus like, and
_peu galant_, to say the least.
The finest convent of monks in Mexico is that of San Francisco, which from
alms alone has an immense annual rent. According to Humboldt, it was to
have been built upon the ruins of the temple of Huitzilopoclitli, the god
of war; but these ruins having been destined for the foundation of the
cathedral, this immense convent was erected where it now stands, in 1531.
The founder was an extraordinary man, a great benefactor of the Indians,
and to whom they owed many useful mechanical arts which he brought them
from Europe. His name was Fray Pedro de Gante--his calling that of a
lay-friar--and his father was the Emperor Charles V!
Of the interior of this convent I am enabled to give you a partial
description, but whether from hearsay, in a vision, or by the use of my
natural eyes, I shall not disclose. It is built in the form of a square,
and has five churches attached to it. You enter a gate, pass through the
great, silent, and grass-grown court--up the broad staircase, and enter the
long, arched cloisters, lighted by one dim lamp, where everything seems to
breathe a religious repose....
The padre prior, seated alone in his cell, with a thick and richly-clasped
volume before him, a single lamp on his table, on the wall a crucifix,
plain but decent furniture, with his bald head, and pale, impressive face,
would have made a fine study for a painter. By such men, the embers of
learning and of science were nursed into a faint but steady flame, burning
through the long, gloomy night of the dark ages, unseen by profane eyes,
like the vestal fire in pagan temples....
A small room, opening into his little parlour, contains his bed, on which
is a mattress; for the padres do not perform such acts of self-denial and
penitence as the cloistered nuns--and I am assured that his cigars are
genuine Havana....
Beggars lounging in the courtyard--a group of monks talking together within
the walled enclosure....
Change the scene to the monastery of San Agustin, and you might fancy
yourself in the days of one of Walter Scott's romances, in the _melange_ of
soldiers and friars; for here his Excellency the President has his
temporary abode; and the torch-light gleams brightly on the swarthy faces
of the soldiers, some lying on the ground enveloped in their cloaks; others
keeping guard before the convent gate. This convent is also very large, but
not so immense as that of San Francisco. The padre prior is a good little
old man, but has not the impressive, ascetic visage of the guardian of the
other convent. His room is as simple, though not in such perfect order; and
his bed is also furnished with a comfortable mattress. An air half
military, half monkish, pervades the convent--aides-de-camp of the
president passing along the galleries, their uniforms contrasting with the
dark robe of a passing monk, returning at nightfall to his cell.
The president had an alarm the night preceding, the prisoners in the jail
having broken out. A serious affray had been expected, and everything was
prepared for putting the person of the president in safety. The back stairs
and secret passages in these old convents lead to excellent hiding-places,
and have been put to frequent use during the revolutions. In the old Monte
Pio there is a communication with a convent of nuns, and in cases of
pillage, the jewels used to be carried by a private staircase out of Monte
Pio, and placed under the care of the nuns of Santa Brigida.
The convent of La Profesa is also a fine and spacious building, but
excepting that it has a greater number of good paintings than the others,
when you have seen one, you have seen all, and I believe none are as large
as that founded by the illegitimate scion of the Imperial Charles, who
himself ended his days in a similar retreat.
LETTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH
_Día de Muertos_--Leave Mexico--_Herraderos_--San Cristobal--Tunas--Plaza
de Toros--Throwing the _Laso_--Accidents--Rustic Breakfast--Country
Fare--Baked Meat--Indian Market--Buried Bull--Mountain--Solitary
_Hacienda_--_Reyes_--Mules marked--Return--Queen of Spain's
Birthday--Diplomatic Dinner.
Santiago, November 3rd.
Yesterday, the second of November, a day which for eight centuries has been
set apart in the Catholic Church for commemorating the dead, the day
emphatically known as the "_Día de Muertos_," the churches throughout all
the Republic of Mexico present a gloomy spectacle; darkened and hung with
black cloth, while in the middle aisle is a coffin, covered also with
black, and painted with skulls and other emblems of mortality. Every one
attends church in mourning, and considering the common lot of humanity,
there is, perhaps, not one heart over the whole Catholic world, which is
not wrung that day, in calling up the memory of the departed.
After early mass, we set off for Santiago, where we intend to spend a week,
to be present at the _Herraderos_--the marking of the bulls with a hot iron
with the initials of the proprietor's name; stamping them with the badge of
slavery--which is said to be an extraordinary scene; to which all rancheros
and Indians look forward with the greatest delight. We had a very pleasant
journey here, leaving Mexico at six in the morning, and travelling at the
usual rate, with _seven_ horses and plenty of _mozos_. Indeed, no one
attempts a journey of any length into the country, without at least six
horses or mules.
Near Sopayuca, while they were changing horses, we went to mass, in the
picturesque church of San Cristobal. The magnificence of these places of
worship is extraordinary. Here was this country church crowded with
léperos, the officiating priests, Indians with bare feet; yet the building
large and rich, hung with black cloth, and lighted with great tapers which
threw their gloomy rays on as much of the rich gilding that encrusted the
walls, as the dark pall left visible.
We got into the carriage a basket of that most refreshing of fruits, the
_tuna_, which grow wild in abundance all over the country. The first time I
unwarily pulled them off the trees, I got my fingers full of the
innumerable little prickles which cover the skin, and which it is very
difficult to get rid of. The Indians have great dexterity in gathering and
peeling them. There is the green and the red tuna; the last the prettiest
to look at, but not nearly so agreeable a fruit as the other.
When we arrived at Santiago, we sat down to a dinner to the number of about
fifty persons, and in the room next to us was a party still larger, of
lower degree, for all the world has come to be present at this annual
festivity.
6th.--The next morning we set off early to the _plaza de toros_. The day
was fresh and exhilarating. All the country people from several leagues
round were assembled, and the trees up to their very topmost branches
presented a collection of bronze faces and black eyes, belonging to the
Indians, who had taken their places there as comfortably as spectators in a
one-shilling gallery. A platform opposite ours was filled with the wives
and daughters of agents and small farmers, little _rancheras_, with short
white gowns and rebosos. There was a very tolerable band of music, perched
upon a natural orchestra. Bernardo and his men were walking and riding
about, and preparing for action. Nothing could be more picturesque than the
whole scene.
Seven hundred bulls were driven in from the plains, bellowing loudly, so
that the air was filled with their fierce music. The universal love which
the Mexicans have for these sports, amounts to a passion. All their money
is reserved to buy new dresses for this occasion, silver rolls or gold
linings for their hats, or new deerskin pantaloons and embroidered jackets
with silver buttons. The accidents that happen are innumerable, but nothing
damps their ardour. _It beats fox-hunting._ The most striking part of the
scene is the extraordinary facility which these men show in throwing the
laso. The bulls being all driven into an enclosure--one after another, and
sometimes two or three at a time, were chosen from amongst them, and driven
into the plaza, where they were received with shouts of applause, if they
appeared fierce, and likely to afford good sport; or of irony, if they
turned to fly, which happened more than once.
Three or four bulls are driven in. They stand for a moment, proudly
reconnoitring their opponents. The horsemen gallop up, armed only with the
laso, and with loud insulting cries of "_Ah toro_!" challenge them to the
contest. The bulls paw the ground, then plunge furiously at the horses,
frequently wounding them at the first onset. Round they go in fierce
gallop, bulls and horsemen, amidst the cries and shouts of the spectators.
The horseman throws the laso. The bull shakes his head free of the cord,
tosses his horns proudly, and gallops on. But his fate is inevitable. Down
comes the whirling rope, and encircles his thick neck. He is thrown down
struggling furiously, and repeatedly dashes his head against the ground in
rage and despair. Then, his legs being also tied, the man with the hissing
red-hot iron in the form of a letter, brands him on the side with the token
of his dependence on the lord of the soil. Some of the bulls stand this
martyrdom with Spartan heroism and do not utter a cry; but others, when the
iron enters their flesh, burst out into long bellowing roars, that seem to
echo through the whole country. They are then loosened, get upon their legs
again, and like so many branded Cains, are driven out into the country, to
make way for others. Such roaring, such shouting, such an odour of singed
hair and _biftek au naturel,_ such playing of music, and such wanton risks
as were ran by the men!
I saw a toreador, who was always foremost in everything, attempting to drag
a bull by the horns, when the animal tossed his head, and with the jerk of
one horn, tore all the flesh off his finger to the very bone. The man
coolly tore a piece off a handkerchief, shook the blood off his finger with
a slight grimace, bound it up in a moment, and dashed away upon a new
venture. One Mexican, extraordinarily handsome, with eyes like an eagle,
and very thin and pale, is, they say, so covered from head to foot with
wounds received in different bullfights, that he cannot live long; yet this
man was the most enthusiastic of them all. His master tried to dissuade him
from joining in the sport this year; but he broke forth into such pathetic
entreaties, conjuring him "by the life of the Señorita," etc., that he
could not withhold his consent.
After an enormous number of bulls had been caught and _labelled_, we went
to breakfast. We found a tent prepared for us, formed of bows of trees
intertwined with garlands of white moss, like that which covers the
cypresses of Chapultepec, and beautifully ornamented with red blossoms and
scarlet berries. We sat down upon heaps of white moss, softer than any
cushion. The Indians had cooked meat under the stones for us, which I found
horrible, smelling and tasting of smoke. But we had also boiled fowls, and
quantities of burning chile, hot tortillas, atole, or _atolli_, as the
Indians call it, a species of cakes made of very fine maize and water, and
sweetened with sugar or honey; _embarrado_, a favourite composition of meat
and chile, very like _mud_, as the name imports, which I have not yet made
up my mind to endure; quantities of fresh tunas, granaditas, bananas,
aguacates, and other fruits, besides pulque, _à discrétion_.
The other people were assembled in circles under the trees, cooking fowls
and boiling eggs in a gipsy fashion, in caldrons, at little fires made with
dry branches; and the band, in its intervals of tortilla and pulque,
favoured us with occasional airs. After breakfast, we walked out amongst
the Indians, who had formed a sort of temporary market, and were selling
pulque, chia, roasted chestnuts, yards of baked meat, and every kind of
fruit. We then returned to see a great bull-fight, which was followed by
more _herraderos_--in short, spent the whole day amongst the _toros_, and
returned to dinner at six o'clock, some in coaches, some on horseback. In
the evening, all the people danced in a large hall; but at eleven o'clock I
could look on no longer, for one of these days in the hot sun is very
fatiguing. Nevertheless, at two in the morning, these men, who had gone
through such violent exercise, were still dancing jarabes.
8th.--For several days we lived amongst bulls and Indians, the _herraderos_
continuing, with variation of _colear_, riding the bulls, etc. Not the
slightest slackening in the eagerness of the men. Even a little boy of ten
years old mounted a young bull one day, and with great difficulty and at a
great risk succeeded in forcing him to gallop round the circle. His father
looked on, evidently frightened to death for the boy, yet too proud of his
youthful prowess to attempt to stop him.
At night, when I shut my eyes, I see before me visions of bulls' heads.
Even when asleep I hear them roaring, or seem to listen to the shouts of
"_Ah toro!_" The last day of the _herraderos_, by way of winding up, a bull
was killed in honour of C---n, and a great flag was sent streaming from a
tree, on which flag was inscribed in large letters, "Gloria al Señor
Ministro de la Augusta Cristina!" a piece of gallantry which I rewarded
with a piece of gold.
The animal, when dead, was given as a present to the _torcadores_; and
this bull, cut in pieces, they bury with his skin on, in a hole in the
ground previously prepared with fire in it, which is then covered over
with earth and branches. During a certain time, it remains baking in this
natural oven, and the common people consider it a great delicacy, (in
which I differ from them).
Yesterday, we climbed to the top of a steep mountain, which cost us as much
labour as if it had been that steep path which "leads to fame."
Fortunately, it has a good deal of wood, and we had an occasional rest in
the shade. We mounted the hill on horseback as far as horses could go, but
the principal part could only be performed on foot. Most of the party
remained half way. We reached the top, swinging ourselves up by the
branches, in places where it was nearly perpendicular. We were rewarded,
first by the satisfaction one always has in making good one's intentions,
and next, by a wonderfully fine and extensive view. Our return was more
agreeable, as the weather, except in the heat of the noonday sun, is very
cold in this part of the country. The hills are covered chiefly with tunas,
low firs, and numbers of shrubs, with flowers and berries.... Met on our
return a horseman who came to announce the arrival of a guest, Señor
H----, from Puebla, who proved a pleasant addition to our society.
15th.--We went out early this morning on horseback, and breakfasted at an
_hacienda_, five leagues distant from Santiago, belonging to the widow of
-----'s agents, a good looking, respectable woman, who, alone, in this
solitary place, brings up her eight children as she best can. This may
really be called solitude. From one year to another she never sees a human
being, except an occasional Indian. She is well off, and everything in her
house is clean and comfortable. She herself manages the farm, and educates
her children to the best of her abilities, so that she never finds time to
be dull. She expected us, and gave us breakfast (we being about twenty in
number), consisting of everything which that part of the country can
afford; and the party certainly did justice to her excellent fare. She gave
us pulque, fermented with the juice of the pineapple, which is very good.
When the sun had gone down a little, we rode to the fine _hacienda_ of
Reyes, belonging to Señor A----, where he is making and projecting
alterations and improvements. When we left Reyes it began to rain, and we
were glad to accept the covering of _sarapes_, as we galloped over the
plains. We had a delightful ride. Towards evening the rain ceased, and the
moon rose brightly and without a cloud; but we were certainly tired enough
when we got home, having rode in all ten leagues.
17th.--These two days have been passed in seeing the mules marked. They are
even more dangerous than the bulls, as they bite most ferociously while in
their wild state. When thrown down by the laso, they snore in the most
extraordinary manner, like so many aldermen in an apoplectic nap.
This is, perhaps, the most useful and profitable of all Mexican animals. As
beasts of burden and for draught, they are in use over the whole republic,
and are excellent for long journeys, being capable of immense fatigue,
particularly in those arid, hilly parts of the country, where there are no
roads. Those which go in droves, can carry about five hundred pounds
weight, going at the rate of twelve or fourteen miles a day, and in this
way they can perform journeys of more than a thousand miles. For constant
use they are preferable to horses, being so much less delicate, requiring
less care, and enduring more fatigue. A good pair of carriage mules will
cost from five hundred to a thousand dollars.
After dinner we saw some of these wild creatures, that had just been
caught, put into a carriage, each wild mule harnessed with a civilized one,
and such kicking and flinging up of heels I never witnessed. However, the
_mozos_ can manage anything, and in about half an hour, after much
alternate soothing and lashing, they trotted along with the heavy coach
after them, only rearing and plunging at decent intervals.
MEXICO, 12th.
We have passed ten days in the country, taking constant exercise, and have
been obliged to return home rather sooner than we should have wished, in
order to mark Queen Ysabel's Day with a diplomatic dinner.
Though less is now said on the subject of the pamphlet than when we left
this, the irritation seems to continue as before. Señor Gutierrez remains
concealed, communicating only with his family and a few devoted friends; a
most disagreeable position, and one which it is impossible for him to
endure long.
20th.--Our dinner has _gone off_ as well as could be expected. The party
were twenty-six in number, consisting of His Grace the Archbishop, their
Excellencies of the Cabinet and _Corps Diplomatique_, together with Count
Cortina, the Valencias, and Gorostizas. The gentlemen were in full
uniform--the ladies _en grande toilette_--the archbishop in his robes. We
had a band of music in the gallery, and walked in to the sound of Norma,
precedence being given to the archbishop, who took me, or rather whom I
took, as I found some difficulty in getting my arm into his robes. I
believe no blunders in etiquette were committed. The dinner lasted three
and a half mortal hours. The archbishop proposed the health of Her Majesty
the Queen, which was drank standing, the band performing God save the
queen. I was dreadfully tired (though in a very agreeable position), and
have no doubt every one else was the same, it being eleven when we returned
to the drawing-room.
The archbishop's familiars, two priests who always accompany him,
respectable _black guards_, were already in waiting. As for him, he was as
kind and agreeable as usual, and, after coffee, took his departure to the
sound of music.
LETTER THE TWENTY-NINTH
Virgin of _Cavadonga_--Santo Domingo--Decorations and
Music--Daguerreotype--Weekly Soirées--An Arrival--An Earthquake--Honourable
Mr. -------Broken Furniture--_días_--Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe--Party
of the _Desierto_--_Itzcuintepotzotli_--Inn of _Guajimaclo_--Ruined
Convent--Its Origin--_Dejéuné_ à la _Fourchette_--Splendid Scenery--Vow to
the Virgin--Musical Mass--Tacuba--Ride with the Prior.
21ST.
We received a few days since an invitation to attend the sumptuous mass,
annually given by the Asturian Brotherhood, in honour of the Virgin of
Cavadonga, in the church of Santo Domingo. The invitation being printed on
blue satin, with gold lace and tassels, seems worthy of a place in a box of
wax figures, which will be sent by the next packet.
The church was superbly decorated, and only well-dressed people were
admitted. C---n was carried off to a post of honour near the altar, and a
padre gave me a velvet chair. The music was beautiful, but too gay for a
church. There were violins and wind instruments, and several amateur
players. Some pieces from the _Cheval de Bronze_ were very well played. The
sermon, preached by Guerrero, a chanoine who has some reputation as an
orator, contained a prudent degree of praise of the Spaniards, and even of
a king, could that king be a _pelayo_.
In the evening we dined at the Prussian Minister's--a pleasant party.
Yesterday we went to Chapultepec, C---n and I, M. de G---t, and M. de
N----, to take views with the Daguerreotype, which C---n had the pleasure
of receiving some time ago from Boston, from our friend, Mr. Prescott.
While they were working in the sun, I, finding that the excessive heat had
the effect of cooling my enthusiasm, established myself with a book under
Montezuma's cypress, which felt very romantic. The poetry of the scene,
however, was greatly weakened by the arrival of a party of _forçats_ in
chains, who are working in the castle, which I believe there is some
intention of having transformed into a military college. They are so
insolent, that forgetting they are guarded and chained in couples, I felt
glad to see that the servants were within call.
Our weekly _soirées_ have begun, and, so far, are very successful. There
are now three tertulias in the week at the houses of the diplomates. We
have generally music, cards, and plenty of dancing, and every one seems
pleased, the best proof of which they give by generally staying till two or
three in the morning.
28th.--You may imagine my joy at the arrival of K---- and A---- in health
and safety at three o'clock to-day. They have had a good journey from Vera
Cruz, suffering from nothing but the cold, which they felt especially at
Perote. As they arrived on the day of a _soirée_, they did not make their
appearance, being tired. I have now an excuse for revisiting all my old
haunts, and the first week or two must pass in sight-seeing.
3Oth.--We dined yesterday at Tacubaya; where the C---a family, particularly
the ladies of the family, are in a state of the greatest uneasiness.
I had just written these words, when I began, to my great astonishment, to
rock up and down, chair, table, and myself. Suddenly, the room, the walls,
all began to move, and the floor to heave like the waves of the sea! At
first, I imagined that I was giddy, but almost immediately saw that it was
an earthquake. We all ran, or rather staggered as well as we could, into
the gallery, where the servants were already arranged on their knees,
praying and crossing themselves with all their might. The shock lasted
above a minute and a half, and I believe has done no injury, except in
frightening the whole population, and cracking a few old walls. All Mexico
was on its knees while it lasted, even the poor madmen in San Hepolito,
which A---- had gone to visit in company with Señor -----. I have had a
feeling of sea-sickness ever since. They expect a return of the shock in
twenty-four hours. How dreadful a severe earthquake must be! how terrible
it is to feel this heaving of the solid earth, to lose our confidence in
its security, and to be reminded that the elements of destruction which
lurk beneath our feet, are yet swifter and more powerful to destroy, than
those which are above us.
I cannot help laughing yet at the recollection of the face of a poor little
clerk who had just entered the house with a packet of letters for C---n. He
did not kneel, but sat down upon the steps as pale as death, looking as
"creamed faced" as the messenger to Macbeth; and when the shock was over,
he was so sick, that he ran out of the house without making any remarks.
The scarlet _hucamaya_, with a loud shriek, flew from its perch, and
performed a zig-zag flight through the air, down to the troubled fountain
in the court.
Your friend, the Honourable Mr. -----, arrived the other day, looking very
ill, having had the yellow fever at Havana very severely, a peculiar piece
of bad fortune at this season.
All the furniture we ordered from the United States, arrived some time ago,
a mass of legs and arms. Tables, wardrobes, etc., were, I believe, all sold
for the mahogany at Vera Cruz. The mirrors also arrived _in powder_. This
must be owing to bad packing, since our most delicate things from London,
such as crystal, porcelain, etc., have arrived in excellent condition.
December 3rd.--Have had many visits to-day, this being my _día de fiesta_.
Amongst others the president was here. This custom of keeping people's
_días_ gives one a great deal of trouble, but the omission is considered
rather a breach of politeness.
12th.--This being the anniversary of the day of the miraculous apparition
of our Lady of Guadalupe, the cathedral and village will be crowded with
Indians from all parts of the country. A---- and Mr. B---- have driven over
there; but, from all accounts, the crowd will be so great, that we are not
tempted to accompany them. We have a _soirée_ this evening, and have had
two pleasant parties this week at the other houses. To-morrow we intend
going with a large party to the _Desierto_, where some gentlemen are to
give a breakfast. I understand that there are to be twenty-three people on
horseback, and eighteen in carriages, and our _trysting-place_ is by the
great fountain with the gilt statue, in the Paseo de Bucarelli; the hour,
half-past seven. They say the Desierto is a beautiful place, but being
seven leagues from Mexico, we shall probably all return as tired as
possible.
15th.--The morning of our party to the Desierto was beautiful. Here one
need not fear those _contretemps_ in regard to the weather, which in
England so often render a party of pleasure painful; unless, indeed, one
chooses to select an evening in the rainy season for an expedition. We met
by the fountain at the hour appointed, some in carriages, and some on
horseback. Of the latter I formed part. The road leads along the aqueduct
by Chapultepec, and through Tacubaya, and is the high-road that goes to
Toluca. The first part, after passing Tacubaya, is steep, bleak, and
uninteresting. Plantations of maguey and occasional clumps of Peruvian
trees are the only vegetation, and Indian huts the only traces of human
life. But after a tedious ascent, the view looking back upon Mexico, with
all her churches, lakes, and mountains is truly magnificent. The road also
begins to wind through a fertile and wooded country. About noon we reached
an inn, where travellers stop who are going to Toluca, and where we halted
to collect our scattered forces. Hanging up by a hook in the entry, along
with various other dead animals, polecats, weasels, etc., was the ugliest
creature I ever beheld. It seemed a species of dog, with a hunch back, a
head like a wolf, and no neck, a perfect monster. As far as I can make out
it must be the _itzcuintepotzotli_, mentioned by some old Mexican writers.
The people had brought it up in the house, and killed it on account of its
fierceness. This inn stands in the valley of Guajimalco, and is about a
league from the Desierto.
There is no longer any road there, but a steep and winding path through the
beautiful woods. Therefore those who had come in coaches were now obliged
to proceed on donkeys, with Indian guides. The beauty of the scenery is
indescribable. The path winds, ascending through a wilderness of trees and
flowering shrubs, bathed by a clear and rapid rivulet; and every now and
then, through the arched forest-trees, are glimpses of the snowy volcanoes
and of the distant domes and lakes of Mexico.
The ruins of the old Carmelite convent, standing on the slope of a hill,
are surrounded by noble forests of pine, and oak, and cedar; long and lofty
forest-aisles, where the monks of former days wandered in peaceful
meditation. But they removed from this beautiful site to another, said to
be equally beautiful and wilder, also called the Desierto, but much farther
from Mexico; and this fertile region (which the knowing eye of a Yankee
would instantly discover to be full of capabilities in the way of
machinery), belongs to no one, and lies here deserted, in solitary beauty.
Some poor Indians live amongst the ruins of the old cloisters, and the wild
deer possess the undisputed sovereignty of the woods.
It is said that a benighted traveller, who had lost his way in these
solitudes, and was miraculously saved from dying of cold, founded this rich
convent of Carmelite monks, in gratitude to Heaven for his deliverance,
bequeathing his desire, that all travellers who passed that way should
receive hospitality from the convent. Certainly no place more fitted for
devotion could have been selected than this mountain retreat; and when the
convent bell tolled at evening, calling the monks to prayer, and wakening
the echoes of the silent hills, its deep notes must have been all in unison
with the solemn scene.
But the sight of a very magnificent _déjeuné à la fourchette_, spread under
the pine-trees, the uncorking of champagne bottles and Scotch ale, the
savoury odour of soups and fricandeaus, the bustling attendance of English
waiters, put to flight all romantic fancies. We remembered that we were
hungry, that we had ridden seven miles and had not breakfasted; and no
order of friars could have done more justice to the repast than we did....
But the component parts of a party of pleasure must be very curiously
selected, the mosaic of the society very nicely fitted, or it will
inevitably terminate unpleasantly; and the elements of discord are more
dangerous, their effects more lasting, than even the coughs and colds and
rheumatisms produced by those watery elements, sworn foes to all picnics
and gipsy parties in our foggy island.
About four o'clock we remounted our horses, and retraced our path through
the woods; and who could ruminate on petty disputes, or complain of
trifling accidents, or not forget any disagreeable individuals who might
have been found among our numerous party, when the splendid panorama of
Mexico burst upon us, with all its mountains, lakes, and plains, its
churches, and towers, and gardens, bathed in a flood of golden light, the
rich crimson clouds of sunset resting upon the snow of the volcanoes, while
the woods through which our horses picked their steps, over stones and
streamlets, were fragrant with blossoming shrubs and wild roses?
When we reached the inn where the carriages had been left, we remounted our
horses, and as it was growing dusk, and the whole party had not yet
collected together, we thought it advisable for the equestrian part of the
expedition to ride forward; so leaving the carriages with their escort, we
set off for Mexico; C---n, I, A----, and a servant, at full gallop, and
hardly drew our bridles till we reached the city; tired, as you may
suppose, after our fourteen leagues' ride.
20th.--Our yesterday evening's tertulia was very crowded; and there was a
great deal of music and dancing. These weekly _soirées_ are decidedly
successful, and the best families in Mexico unite there without etiquette,
which we were told it was impossible to bring about....
Perhaps it is that I am getting accustomed to the Mexican style of face,
but it appeared to me that there was a great deal of beauty assembled; and
as for fine voices, they are as common in Mexico as they are rare in
England....
A rich senator, Don B---- G----, made a vow to the Virgin some years ago,
that he would cause a splendid mass to be performed annually in the
cathedral, at his own expense, in honour of our Saviour's birth, on the
morning of Christmas-eve. This mass is performed entirely by amateurs, most
of the young ladies in Mexico, who have fine voices, taking a part in it. I
was _drawn in_, very unwillingly, to promise to take a trifling part on the
harp, the accompaniment to the _Incarnatus_.
Preparations have long been going on for this solemnization, and various
rehearsals have taken place amongst the amateur singers, in the evening,
before large audiences in the Mineria. The whole thing promises well.
24th.--C---n has gone with Señor Zurutuza (a Spanish gentleman), to
Cuernavaca, in _tierra caliente_, to spend a few days at his estate in the
neighbourhood; which at this season will be delightful.
This morning we rode to San Joaquin, where we met the prior on horseback,
on his way to Mexico to confess the old prioress of the convent of Santa
Teresa. He turned back, and accompanied us during the rest of our ride. He
rode with us to Tacuba, round the traces of the ruins, and to the fine old
church and dismantled convent, where we dismounted, and having taken off
our riding-hats, accompanied the prior through the deserted cloisters into
the old church; and I imagine we must have looked very picturesque; I in my
riding-habit, and the sandalled friar in his white robes, kneeling side by
side, on the broken steps of the altar. He is so pleasant and
well-informed, that he is a particularly agreeable companion.
LETTER THE THIRTIETH
Christmas-day--Kalends and Mass--Amateur
Performances--Solo--_Posadas_--Wandering of the Holy
Family--_Nacimiento_--Crowded Party--French Cooks--Mexican Cook--State of
Household--New Year's Day--Mass--Dirtiness of the Churches,
etc.--Comparisons--Private Chapels--English Club--Preparations for Journey.
25th.
CHRISTMAS-DAY! One year this evening since we made our entry into Mexico.
What a different aspect everything has assumed to us in one year! Then
every object was new, every face that of a stranger. Now we are surrounded
by familiar sights and sounds, and above all by friendly faces. But though
novelty, which has its charms and its _désagrémens_, has gone, nothing in
Mexico even appears commonplace. Everything is on so large a scale, and
everything so picturesque. Then there is so much interest attached to its
old buildings, so much to see, even though there are no _sights_ and no
show-places, unless we are to put in that class the Minera, Museum,
Cathedral, University, and Botanic Garden, usually visited by travellers,
that at whatever period we may leave it, I feel convinced we shall regret
some point of interest, that we have left unvisited....
Some days ago coloured cards, printed in gilt letters, were sent round,
inviting all the senator's friends to the mass, in this form:--
"J---e B---o G---- requests that you will honour him with your presence and
that of your family, in the solemn function of Kalends and Mass, with which
he annually makes an humble remembrance of the Birth of the Saviour, which
festivity will take place on the morning of the 24th of this month, at nine
o'clock in the Parish Church of the _Sagrario_ of the Holy Cathedral.
"Mexico, December, 1840."
By nine we were all assembled in the choir; Don B---o in his uniform, dark
blue and gold, we in mantillas. The church looked very splendid, and, as
usual on these occasions, no _léperos_ were admitted, therefore the crowd
was very elegant and select. The affair went off brilliantly. Four or five
of the girls, and several of the married women, have superb voices; and not
one of all those who sang in chorus had a bad voice. The finest I almost
ever heard is that of the Señorita C----. Were she to study in Italy, I
venture to predict that she might rival Grisi. Such depth, power,
extension, and sweetness, with such richness of tone in the upper notes,
are very rarely united. She sang a solo in such tones that I thought the
people below must have been inclined to applaud. There are others whose
voices are much more cultivated, and who have infinitely more science. I
speak only of the raw material. The orchestra was really good, and led by a
first-rate musician. I was thankful when my part of the entertainment was
over, and I could give an individual attention to the others. The
celebration lasted four hours, but there was rather a long sermon. You will
shortly receive a detailed account of the whole, which is to be published
in the Mexican Annual, called "The Ladies' Guide."
In the evening we went to the house of the Marquesa de V---o, to spend the
Christmas-eve. On this night all the relations and intimate friends of each
family assemble in the house of the _head of the clan_, a real gathering,
and in the present case to the number of fifty or sixty persons.
This is the last night of what are called the _Posadas,_ a curious mixture
of religion and amusement, but extremely pretty. The meaning is this: At
the time when the decree went forth from Caesar Augustus, that "all the
world should be taxed," the Virgin and Joséph having come out of Galilee to
Judaea to be inscribed for the taxation, found Bethlehem so full of people,
who had arrived from all parts of the world, that they wandered about for
nine days, without finding admittance in any house or tavern, and on the
ninth day took shelter in a manger, where the Saviour was born. For eight
days this wandering of the Holy Family to the different _Posadas_ is
represented, and seems more intended for an amusement to the children than
anything serious. We went to the Marquesa's at eight o'clock, and about
nine the ceremony commenced. A lighted taper is put into the hand of each
lady, and a procession was formed, two by two, which marched all through
the house, the corridors and walls of which were all decorated with
evergreens and lamps, the whole party singing the Litanies. K----- walked
with the dowager marquesa; and a group of little children, dressed as
angels, joined the procession. They wore little robes of silver or gold
lama, plumes of white feathers, and a profusion of fine diamonds, and
pearls, in _bandeaux_, brooches, and necklaces, white gauze wings, and
white satin shoes, embroidered in gold.
At last the procession drew up before a door, and a shower of fireworks was
sent flying over our heads, I suppose to represent the descent of the
angels; for a group of ladies appeared, dressed to represent the shepherds
who watched their flocks by night upon the plains of Bethlehem. Then
voices, supposed to be those of Mary and Joséph, struck up a hymn, in which
they begged for admittance, saying that the night was cold and dark, that
the wind blew hard, and that they prayed for a night's shelter. A chorus of
voices from within refused admittance. Again those without entreated
shelter, and at length declared that she at the door, who thus wandered in
the night, and had not where to lay her head, was the Queen of Heaven! At
this name the doors were thrown wide open, and the Holy Family entered
singing. The scene within was very pretty: a _nacimiento_. Platforms, going
all round the room, were covered with moss, on which were disposed groups
of wax figures, generally representing passages from different parts of the
New Testament, though sometimes they begin with Adam and Eve in paradise.
There was the Annunciation--the Salutation of Mary to Elizabeth--the Wise
Men of the East--the Shepherds--the Flight into Egypt. There were green
trees and fruit trees, and little fountains that cast up fairy columns of
water, and flocks of sheep, and a little cradle in which to lay the Infant
Christ. One of the angels held a waxen baby in her arms. The whole was
lighted very brilliantly, and ornamented with flowers and garlands. A padre
took the baby from the angel, and placed it in the cradle, and the posada
was completed. We then returned to the drawing-room--angels, shepherds, and
all, and danced till suppertime. The supper was a show for sweetmeats and
cakes.
Today, with the exception of there being no service in all the churches,
Christmas is not kept in any remarkable way. We are spending this evening
alone, and very quietly. Tomorrow we have a _soirée_. I have letters from
C---n, from Cuernavaca, delighted with the beauties of _tierra caliente_,
and living amongst roses and orange trees. I hope that in January we shall
be able to go there, in case anything should occur to induce us to leave
Mexico before next winter.
27th.--We had a very crowded party last evening, I think the best we have
had yet, a fact which I mention, because I triumph in my opinion that these
weekly parties would succeed in Mexico having proved correct. I have lately
been engaged in search of a _cook_, with as much pertinacity as Japhet in
search of his father, and with as little success as he had in his
preliminary inquiries. One, a Frenchman, I found out had been tried for
murder--another was said to be deranged--a third, who announced himself as
the greatest _artiste_ who had yet condescended to visit Mexico, demanded a
salary which he considered suitable to his abilities. I tried a female
Mexican, in spite of her flowing hair. She seemed a decent woman and
tolerable cook; and, although our French housekeeper and prime Minister had
deserted us at our utmost need, we ventured to leave the house, and to
spend the day at Tacubaya. On our return, found the whole establishment
unable to stand! Cook tipsy--soldiers ditto--galopine slightly
intoxicated--in short, the house taking care of itself--no _standing force_
but the coachman and footman, who have been with us some time, and appear
to be excellent servants. I am, however, promised a good Mexican
housekeeper, and trust that some order will be established under her
government; also, a Chinese cook, with a _celestial_ character....
Letters from Spain, announcing the speedy arrival of a Secretary of
Legation and another attache.
1st January, 1841.--A happy New Year to all! We began it by attending early
mass in San Francisco, about the cleanest church in Mexico, and most
frequented by the better classes. There you may have the good fortune to
place yourself between two well-dressed women, but you are equally likely
to find your neighbour a beggar with a blanket; besides, the floor is
nearly as dirty as that of the cathedral. This dirtiness is certainly one
of the greatest drawbacks to human felicity in this beautiful country,
degrading the noble edifices dedicated to the worship of God, destroying
the beautiful works destined for the benefit of his creatures. The streets,
the churches, the theatres, the market-place, the people, all are
contaminated by this evil. The market-place is indeed full of flowers and
green branches and garlands--but those who sell the flowers and weave the
wreaths are so dirty, that the effect of what would otherwise be the
prettiest possible picture, is completely destroyed. In the theatre there
is a series of suffocating odours, especially in the dimly-lighted
corridors, which is anything but agreeable. The custom of kneeling on the
floor in church seems fitting and devout, but there surely can be no reason
why the floor of a sacred building should not be kept scrupulously clean,
or why the lower classes should not be obliged to dress themselves with
common decency. Those who are unable to do so, though probably there are
not half a dozen people in Mexico who do not wear rags merely from
indolence, should certainly have a place set apart for them, in which case
this air of squalid poverty would no doubt disappear. On occasion of any
peculiar fête, the church is washed and beggars are excluded, and then
indeed these noble edifices seem fitting temples wherein to worship the
Most High.
On other days, in addition to the léperos (especially in the cathedral),
the Indian women are in the habit of bringing their babies and baskets of
vegetables to church, and the babies on their part are in the habit of
screaming, as babies will when they consider themselves neglected. This may
be difficult to amend, the poor woman having come in from her village, and
perforce brought her progeny with her; but the strong, stout man in rags,
who prefers begging to working--the half-naked woman who would consider
herself degraded by doing anything to better her condition, except asking
for alms--the dogs which wander up and down during divine service,--all
these might be brought to order by proper regulations.
Notwithstanding all these drawbacks, I have sometimes compared, in my own
mind, the appearance of a fashionable London chapel with that of a Mexican
church, on the occasion of a solemn fête, and the comparison is certainly
in favour of the latter. The one, light, airy, and gay, with its
velvet-lined pews, its fashionable preacher, the ladies a little sleepy
after the last night's opera, but dressed in the most elegant morning
toilet, and casting furtive glances at Lady -----'s bonnet and feathers,
and at Mrs. -----'s cashmere shawl or lovely ermine pelisse, and exchanging
a few fashionable nothings at the door, as the footmen let down the steps
of their gay equipages--the other, solemn, stately, and gloomy, and showing
no distinction of rank. The floor covered with kneeling figures--some
enveloped in the reboso, others in the mantilla, and all alike devout, at
least in outward seeming. No showy dress, or gay bonnet, or fashionable
mantle to cause the eye of the poor to wander with envy or admiration.
Apparently considering themselves alike in the sight of Heaven, the peasant
and the marquesa kneel side by side, with little distinction of dress; and
all appear occupied with their own devotions, without observing either
their neighbour's dress or degree of devoutness. Religious feeling may be
equally strong in the frequenters of both places of worship; but as long as
we possess senses which can be affected by external objects, the
probabilities of the most undivided devotional feeling are in favour of the
latter. The eye will wander--the thoughts will follow where it leads. In
the one case it rests on elegant forms and fashionable toilets--in the
other, it sees nothing but a mass of dark and kneeling figures, or a
representation of holy and scriptural subjects.
However, one consequence of the exceeding dirtiness of the Mexican
churches, and the number of léperos who haunt them, as much in the way of
their calling as from devotion, is that a great part of the principal
families here, having oratorios in their houses, have engaged the services
of a padre, and have mass at home. There is a small chapel in the house of
General B---a, the handsomest house in Mexico, where there is a virgin
carved in wood, one of the most exquisite pieces of sculpture that can be
seen. The face is more than angelic--it is divine; but a divine nature,
suffering mortal anguish.
27th.--On the first of February we hope to set off on an expedition to
_tierra caliente,_ from which C---n returned some time ago. We have, by
good fortune, procured an excellent Mexican housekeeper, under whose
auspices everything has assumed a very different aspect, and to whose care
we can intrust the house when we go. Nothing remarkable has occurred here
lately--the usual routine of riding on horseback, visiting in carriage,
walking very rarely in the Alameda, driving in the Paseo, dining at
Tacubaya, the three weekly _soirées,_ varied by a diplomatic dinner in the
house of the ----- Minister, and by the dinner of the English club who met
here yesterday--by a sale of books after dinner, in which the president of
the society fined me five dollars for keeping a stupid old poem past the
time, upon which I _moved_ that the poem should be presented to me, which
was carried _nem_. _con_.
We have been strongly advised not to attempt this journey, and the stories
of robbers and robberies, related by credible persons, are not encouraging.
Robbers, bad roads, horrible heat, poisonous animals; many are the
difficulties prognosticated to us. The season is already rather advanced,
but it has been impossible for us to set off sooner. Our next letters will
be written either during our journey, should we find the opportunity, or
after our return.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIRST
Leave Mexico--Cuernavaca--_Tierra Caliente_--_Atlacamulco_--Orange
Groves--Sugar-cane--Annual Produce--Will of Cortes--Description--Coffee
Plantation--Scorpions--List of Venemous Reptiles--_Acapansingo_--Doubts and
Difficulties--A Decision.
ATLACAMULCO, February 2nd.
A quiet day in a hospitable country-house, too sunny to go out, and nothing
else to do, are temptations sufficient to induce me to sit down and give
you an account of our proceedings during these last two days. Yesterday,
the first of February, at four in the morning, very sleepy, we set off in
the diligence which we had taken for ourselves; our sole luggage, two
portmanteaus and a carpet bag; our dresses, dark strong calico gowns, large
Panama hats, rebosos tied on like scarfs, and thick green barege veils. A
government escort of four soldiers with a corporal, renewed four times,
accompanied us as far as Cuernavaca, which is about eighteen leagues from
Mexico, and the entrance as it were to _tierra caliente_. These are
supposed sufficient to frighten away three times the number of robbers,
whose daring, however, has got to such a height, that no diligence now
arrives from Puebla without being robbed. Six robberies have happened there
in the last fortnight, and the road to Cuernavaca is said to be still more
dangerous. We took chocolate before starting, and carried with us a basket
of cold meat and wine, as there is nothing on the road that can be called
an inn. When we set off it was cool, almost cold; the astral lamps were
out, and the great solar lamp was not yet lighted.
"But soon, like lobster boiled, the morn,
From black to red began to turn."
By the time we had reached San Agustin, where we changed horses, the sun
had risen, enabling us to see all the horrors of the road, which, after
leaving that beautiful village with its trees and gardens, winds over the
mountain, amongst great volcanic rocks, a toilsome ascent; and passes by
the village of Ajusco, a miserable robber's nest. Yet the view, as we
looked back from this barren tract, while the sun was breaking over the
summits of the mountains, was very grand in its mixture of fertility and
wildness, in its vast extent of plains and villages with their groves and
gardens, and in its fine view of Mexico itself, white and glittering in the
distance. The mountain of Ajusco, clothed with dark forests of pine,
frowned on our right, and looked worthy of its brigand haunted reputation.
At La Guarda, a collection of miserable huts, we changed horses, and
declined some suspicious-looking frijoles in dirty saucers, which were
offered to us; a proof both that we were young travellers in this country,
and that we had not exhausted our basket of civilized provender.
The road wound round through a succession of rocks and woods till we
reached _Cruz del Marques_--the Marquis being of course Cortes, while the
cross, it is said, was planted there by him to mark the limits of his
territory, or rather of that which the Indian Emperor had assigned him.
About two o'clock the heat became intense, and we began to see and to feel
symptoms of our approach to _tierra caliente_.
We arrived at the Indian village of _Huichilaque_, which is rather pretty,
with cane cottages and a good many flowering trees; and from the eminence
on which it is situated, the _hot land_ is visible.
The diligence now began galloping down the rocky and stony descent. The
country looked even more arid than before; the vegetation more dried up.
Not a tree--but here and there, at long intervals, a feathery cocoa or a
palm, and occasionally some beautiful, unknown wild flowers. But the heat,
the dust, the jolting! When at length we rattled through Cuernavaca, and
stopped before the quiet-looking inn, it was with joy that we bade adieu,
for some time at least, to all diligences, coaches, and carriages; having
to trust for the future to four-legged conveyances, which we can guide as
we please.
Cuernavaca (_cow's horn_), the ancient Quauhnahuac, was one of the thirty
cities which Charles the Fifth gave to Cortes, and afterwards formed part
of the estates of the Duke of Monteleone, representative of the family of
Cortes, as Marquis of the Valley of Oajaca. It was celebrated by the
ancient writers for its beauty, its delightful climate, and the strength of
its situation; defended on one side by steep mountains, and on the other by
a precipitous ravine, through which ran a stream which the Spaniards
crossed by means of two great trees that had thrown their branches across
the barranca, and formed a natural bridge. It was the capital of the
Tlahuica nation, and, after the conquest, Cortes built here a splendid
palace, a church, and a convent of Franciscans, believing that he had laid
the foundation of a great city. And in fact, its delicious climate, the
abundance of the water, the minerals said to exist in the neighbourhood,
its fine trees, delicious fruits, and vicinity to the capital, all combined
to render it a flourishing city. It is, however, a place of little
importance, though so favoured by nature; and the conqueror's palace is a
half-ruined barrack, though a most picturesque object, standing on a hill,
behind which starts up the great white volcano. There are some good houses,
and the remains of the church which Cortes built, celebrated for its bold
arch; but we were too tired to walk about much, and waited most anxiously
for the arrival of horses and men from the sugar estate of Don Anselmo
Zurutuza, at Atlacamulco; where we were to pass the night. The house where
the diligence stopped was formerly remarkable for the fine garden attached
to it, and belonged to a wealthy proprietor. We sat down amongst the fruit
trees, by the side of a clear tank, and waited there till the arrival of
our horses and guides. It was nearly dusk when they came--the sun had gone
down, the evening was cool and agreeable, and after much kicking and
spurring and loading of mules and barking of dogs, we set off over hill and
dale, through pretty wild scenery, as far as we could distinguish by the
faint light, climbing hills and crossing streams for two leagues; till at
length the fierce fires, pouring from the sugar oven chimneys of
Atlacamulco, gave us notice that we were near our haven for the night. We
galloped into the courtyard, amongst dogs and negroes and Indians, and were
hospitably received by the administrador (the agent). Greatly were we
divided between sleep and hunger; but hunger gained the victory, and an
immense smoking supper received our most distinguished attention.
This morning, after a refreshing sleep, we rose and dressed at eight
o'clock--late hours for _tierra caliente_--and then went out into the
coffee plantation and orange walk. Anything so lovely! The orange-trees
were covered with their golden fruit and fragrant blossom; the lemon-trees,
bending over, formed a natural arch, which the sun could not pierce. We
laid ourselves down on the soft grass, contrasting this day with the
preceding. The air was soft and balmy, and actually heavy with the
fragrance of the orange blossom and starry jasmine. All round the orchard
ran streams of the most delicious clear water, trickling with sweet music,
and now and then a little cardinal, like a bright red ruby, would perch on
the trees. We pulled bouquets of orange blossom, jasmines, lilies, double
red roses, and lemon leaves, and wished we could have transported them to
you, to those lands where winter is now wrapping the world in his white
winding-sheet.
The gardener, or coffee-planter--such a gardener!--Don Juan by name, with
an immense black beard, Mexican hat, and military sash of crimson silk,
came to offer us some orangeade; and having sent to the house for sugar and
tumblers, pulled the oranges from the trees, and drew the water from a
clear tank overshadowed by blossoming branches, and cold as though it had
been iced. There certainly is no tree more beautiful than the orange, with
its golden fruit, shining green leaves and lovely white blossom with so
delicious a fragrance. We felt this morning as if Atlacamulco was an
earthly paradise.
It belongs in fact to the Duke of Monteleone, and is let by his agent, Don
Luis Alaman, to Señor Zurutuza. Its average annual produce of silver is
about thirty thousand _arrobas_, (an arroba containing twenty-five pounds).
The sugar-cane was unknown to the ancient Mexicans, who made syrup of
honey, and also from the maguey, and sugar from the stalk of maize. The
sugar-cane was introduced by the Spaniards from the Canary Islands to Santo
Domingo, from whence it passed to Cuba and Mexico. The first sugar-canes
were planted in 1520, by Don Pedro de Atienza. The first cylinders were
constructed by Gonzalo de Velosa, and the first sugar mills built by the
Spaniards at that time were worked by hydraulic wheels and not by horses.
M. de Humboldt, who examined the will of Cortes, informs us that the
conqueror had left sugar plantations near Cuyoacan, in the valley of
Mexico, where now, owing, it is supposed, to the cutting down of the trees,
the cold is too great for sugar-cane or any other tropical production to
thrive. There are few negroes on these sugar plantations. Their numbers
have not increased since their introduction. We observed but one old negro,
said to be upwards of a hundred, who was working in the courtyard as we
passed; the generality of the workmen are Indians.
As for the interior of these haciendas, they are all pretty much alike, so
far as we have seen; a great stone building, which is neither farm nor
country-house (according to our notions), but has a character peculiar to
itself--solid enough to stand a siege, with floors of painted brick, large
deal tables, wooden benches, painted chairs, and whitewashed walls; one or
two painted or iron bedsteads, only put up when wanted; numberless empty
rooms; kitchen and outhouses; the courtyard a great square, round which
stand the house for boiling the sugar, whose furnaces blaze day and night;
the house, with machinery for extracting the juice from the cane, the
refining rooms, the places where it is dried, etc., all on a large scale.
If the hacienda is, as here, a coffee plantation also, then there is the
great mill for separating the beans from the chaff, and sometimes also
there are buildings where they make brandy. Here there are four hundred men
employed, exclusive of boys, one hundred horses, and a number of mules. The
property is generally very extensive, containing the fields of sugar-cane,
plains for cattle, and the pretty plantations of coffee, so green and
spring-like, this one containing upwards of fifty thousand young plants,
all fresh and vigorous, besides a great deal of uncultivated ground,
abandoned to the deer and hares and quails, of which there are great
abundance. For four months in the year, _tierra caliente_ must be a
paradise, and it has the advantage over the coasts, in being quite free
from yellow fever. But the heat in summer, and the number of poisonous
insects, are great drawbacks. Of these, the _alacrans_, or scorpions, which
haunt all the houses, are amongst the worst. Their bite is poisonous, and,
to a child, deadly, which is one of the many reasons why these estates are
left entirely to the charge of an agent, and though visited occasionally by
the proprietor, rarely lived in by the family. The effects are more or less
violent in different constitutions. Some persons will remain for eight days
in convulsions, foaming at the mouth, and the stomach swelled, as if by
dropsy; others, by immediate remedies, do not suffer much. The chief cures
are brandy, taken in sufficient quantities to stupefy the patient, guyacum
and boiled silk, which last is considered most efficacious. In Durango they
are particularly numerous and venomous, so that a reward in given for so
many _head_ of scorpions to the boys there, to encourage them to destroy
them. The Señora -----, who lives there, feels no inconvenience from their
bite, but the scorpion who bites her immediately dies! It is pretended that
they prefer dark people to fair, which is to suppose them very
discriminating. Though as yet there have been few seen in the houses, I
must confess that we feel rather uneasy at night, and scrupulously examine
our beds and their environs before venturing to go to sleep. The walls
being purposely whitewashed, it is not difficult to detect them; but where
the roofs are formed of beams, they are very apt to drop through.
There are other venomous reptiles, for whose sting there is no remedy, and
if you would like to have a list of these interesting creatures, according
to the names by which they are known in these parts, I can furnish you with
one from the best authority. These, however, are generally to be found
about outhouses, and only occasionally visit your apartments. There is the
_chicaclina_, a striped viper, of beautiful colours--the _coralillo_, a
viper of a coral colour, with a black head--the _vinagrillo_, an animal
like a large cricket. You can discover it, when in the room, by its strong
smell of vinegar. It is orange-coloured, and taps upon the person whom it
crawls over, without giving any pain, but leaving a long train of deadly
poison--I have fancied that I smelt vinegar in every room since hearing
this--the _salamanquesa_, whose bite is fatal: it is shaped like a
lizard--the _eslaboncillo_, which throws itself upon you, and if prevented
from biting you, dies of spite--the _cencoatl_, which has five feet, and
shines in the dark; so that fortunately a warning is given of the vicinity
of these animals in different ways; in some by the odour they exhale, in
some by the light they emit, and in others, like the rattlesnake, by the
sound they give out.
Then there is a beautiful black and red spider, called the _chinclaquili_,
whose sting sends a pain through all your bones; the only cure for which is
to be shut up for several days in a room thick with smoke. There are also
the _tarantula_ and _casampulga_ spiders. Of the first, which is a
shocking-looking soft fat creature, covered with dark hair, it is said that
the horse which treads on it instantly loses its hoof--but this wants
confirmation. Of the scorpions, the small yellowish coloured ones are the
most dangerous, and it is pretended that their bite is most to be
apprehended at midday. The workmen occasionally eat them, after pulling out
the sting. The flesh of the viper is also eaten roasted, as a remedy
against eruptions of the skin. Methinks the remedy is worse than the
disease....
But to banish this _creeping_ subject, which seems not at all in unison
with the lovely scenes that surround us--an Eden where no serpent should
enter--we have been riding this evening to a beautiful little Indian
village called _Acapansingo_, than which I never beheld anything prettier
in its way. Some few houses there are of stone, but the generality are of
cane, and each cottage is surrounded by its fruit-trees, and by others
covered with lilac or white blossoms, and twined with creepers. The lanes
or streets of the village are cleanly swept, and shaded by the blossoming
branches that overhang them; while every now and then they are crossed by
little streams of the purest water. I think I never knew what really
delicious water was till I came here. The Indians, both men and women,
looked clean, and altogether this is the prettiest Indian village we have
yet seen.
As we are very anxious to visit the celebrated cave of Cacauamilpa, near
the city of Cautlamilpa, and also to see as much of _tierra caliente_ as
possible, we have determined, though with regret, to leave our present
quarters at Atlacamulto to-morrow morning, at two o'clock A.M. As there are
no inns, we are furnished with letters of recommendation to the proprietors
of the chief haciendas in these parts. Formerly there was so much
hospitality here, that an annual sum (three thousand dollars it is said)
was assigned by the proprietors to their agents, for the reception of
travellers, whether rich or poor, and whether recommended or not....
Our plan of visiting the cave has been nearly frustrated by the arrival of
General C---s, a neighbouring proprietor, who assured us that we were going
to undertake an impossibility; that the barrancas, by which we must pass to
arrive at the cave, were impassable for women, the mountain paths being so
steep and perpendicular, that men and horses had frequently fallen
backwards in the ascent, or been plunged forward over the precipices, in
attempting to descend. We were in despair, when it was suggested that there
was another, though much longer road to the cave, by which we might ride;
and though our time is at present very precious, we were too glad to agree
to this compromise.
C---n and A---- have returned from a shooting expedition, in which they
have not been very successful; and though I have only recounted to you the
beginning of our adventures, I must stop here, and take a few hours' rest
before we set off on our _matinal_ expedition.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SECOND
Leave _Atlacamulco_--Assemble by Starlight--Balmy Atmosphere--Flowers and
Trees of the Tropics--The Formidable _Barrancas_--_Breakfast under the
Trees_--Force of the Sun--_Meacatlan_--Hospitality--Profitable
Estate--Leave Meacatlan--Beautiful Village--Musical Bells--Ride by
Moonlight--Sugar Fires--Cocoyotla--_Old Gentleman_--Supper--Orange-trees
and Cocoas--Delicious Water--Sugar Estates--A Scorpion--Set off for the
Cave--Morning Ride--Dangerous Path
Cocoyotla, 5th.
On the morning of the third of February we rose about half-past two, and a
little after three, by the light of the stars and the blaze of the sugar
fires, our whole party were assembled on horseback in the courtyard. We
were about twelve in number. Don Juan, the coffee-planter, and Don Pedro, a
friend of his, were deputed by the agent to act as our guides. Four or five
well-armed _mozos_, farmservants, were our escort, together with our
Mexican boy; and we had mules to carry our luggage, which was compressed
into the smallest possible compass. The morning was perfectly enchanting,
and the air like balm, when we set off by this uncertain light; not on
roads (much to our satisfaction), but through fields, and over streams, up
hills and down into valleys, climbing among stones, the horses picking
their way like goats. I certainly never felt or imagined such an
atmosphere. The mere inhaling it was sufficient pleasure.
When the light gradually began to dawn, so that we could discern each
other's faces, and made sure that we were not a party of shadows, for
besides the obscurity, a mixture of sleepiness and placid delight had
hitherto kept us all silent, we looked round on the landscape, as little by
little it assumed form and consistency. The fires from the hacienda were
still visible, but growing pale in the beams of morning, vanishing like
false visions from before the holy light of truth. As we rode along, we
found that the scenery on the hilly parts was generally bleak and sterile,
the grass dried up, and very little vegetation; but wherever we arrived at
a valley sheltered from the sun's rays, there we found a little rivulet
trickling through it, with water like liquid diamonds, bathing the trees
and the flowers--the loveliest blossoming trees, mingled with bananas,
oranges, and lemons, and interspersed with bright flowers, forming a
natural garden and orchard.
One tree, with no leaves on it, is covered with white starry flowers, and
looks at a distance as if it had been covered with snow, which had melted
off the branches, leaving only occasional white tufts. Another is bending
with lilac blossoms, which hang in graceful clusters--another with flowers
like yellow balls. Then there are scarlet wild flowers, that seem as if
they were made of wax or shining coral, and quantities of white jasmine,
trailing on the grass, and throwing itself over the branches of the trees.
There is one beautiful tree, with flowers like immense white lilies, and
buds that look like shut lily blossoms in white wax.
Leaving these beautiful and fertile lands that adorn the slopes and bases
of the hills, you mount again up the steep paths, and again you find the
grass dried up, and no vegetation but stunted nopals or miserable-looking
blue-green magueys. Yet sometimes in the most desert spot, a little
sheltered by a projecting hill, you come upon the most beautiful tree,
bending with rich blossoms, standing all alone, as if through ambition it
had deserted its lowly sisters in the valley, and stood, in its exalted
station, solitary and companionless.
As for the names of these tropical trees, they are almost all Indian, and
it is only _botanically_ that they can be properly distinguished. There is
the _floripundio_, with white odoriferous flowers hanging like bells from
its branches, with large pointed pale-green leaves--the _yollojochitl_,
signifying flower of the heart, like white stars with yellow hearts, which
when shut have the form of one, and the fragrance of which is
delicious--the _isgujochitl_, whose flowers look like small white
musk-roses--another with a long Indian name, and which means the flower of
the raven, and is white, red, and yellow. The Indians use it to adorn their
altars, and it is very fragrant as well as beautiful.
After six hours'good riding, our guides pointed out to us the formidable
barrancas at some distance, and expressed their opinion, that, with great
caution, our horses being very sure-footed, we might venture to pass them,
by which means we should save three leagues, and be enabled to reach an
hacienda within six leagues of the cave that night; and after some
deliberation, it was agreed that the attempt should be made. These
barrancas (the word literally means a ravine or mountain gully) are two
mountains, one behind the other, which it is necessary to cross by a narrow
path, that looks like a road for goats. We began the ascent in silence, and
some fear, one by one till the horses were nearly perpendicular. It lasted
about twenty minutes; and we then began to descend slowly, certainly not
without some danger of being thrown over our horses' heads. However, we
arrived in safety at the end of the first mountain, and this being
accomplished, drew up to rest our horses and mules beside a beautiful clear
stream, bordered by flowering trees. Here some clear-headed individual of
the party proposed that we should open our hamper, containing cold chicken,
hand eggs, sherry, etc.; observing, that it was time to be hungry. His
suggestion was agreed to without a dissenting voice, and a napkin being
spread under a shady tree, no time was lost in proving the truth of his
observation. A very ingenious contrivance for making a wine-glass, by
washing an egg-shell in the stream, is worthy of record. When we had
demolished the cold chicken, the mozos surrounded the cold meat, and after
gathering branches covered with beautiful flowers, with which we ornamented
our horses' heads and our own hats, we prepared to ascend the second
mountain. This is as steep, or nearly as steep as the first; but we were
already confident in the sure-footedness of our horses, and even able to
admire the view as we ascended single file. After much rain, this path must
of course be completely impassable. The day had now become oppressively
warm, though it was not later than eleven o'clock; and having passed the
hills, we came to a dusty high-road, which, about twelve, brought us to the
hacienda of Meacatlan, belonging to the family of Perez Palacio. We were
overtaken on the road by the eldest son of the proprietor, who cordially
invited us in, and introduced us to the ladies of his family, and to his
father, a fine, noble-looking old gentleman. As we were excessively tired,
hot, and dusty, we were very glad to spend a few hours here during the heat
of the sun; and after joining the family at breakfast, consisting of the
most extraordinary variety of excellent dishes, with a profusion of fine
fruits and curious sweetmeats (amongst which was that ethereal-looking
production, called _angel's hair, cabella de angel_), we were glad to lie
down and rest till four o'clock.
This hacienda is very productive and valuable, and has a silver mine on it.
There is also every variety of fine fruit, especially the largest _cedrats_
I ever saw; which, although they have not a great deal of flavour, are very
refreshing. With all their beauty and fertility, there is something very
lonely in a residence on these estates, which are so entirely shut out of
the world; not so much for the proprietors themselves, who are occupied in
the care of their interests, but for the female part of the family.
We left this hospitable mansion about four o'clock, rested and refreshed,
the proprietor giving K---- a horse of his, instead of her own, which was
tired. The sun was still powerful, when we and our train remounted, but the
evening had become delightfully cool, by the time that we had reached the
beautiful village of San Francisco de Tetecala, lying amongst wooded hills,
its white houses gleaming out from amidst the orange-trees, with a small
river crossed by bridges running through it. Many of the houses were
tolerably large and well built. It was a fête-day, and the musical bells
ringing merrily; the people were clean and well dressed, and were assembled
in crowds in an enclosure, looking at a bull-fight, which must be hot work
in this climate, both for man and beast.
But when the moon rose serenely, and without a cloud, and a soft breeze,
fragrant with orange blossom, blew gently over the trees, I felt as if we
might have rode on for ever, without fatigue, and in a state of the most
perfect enjoyment. It were hard to say whether the first soft breath of
morning, or the languishing and yet more fragrant airs of evening were most
enchanting. Sometimes we passed through a village of scattered Indian huts,
with little fires of sticks lighted in their courts, glowing on the bronze
faces of the women and children; and at the sound of our horses' hoofs, a
chorus of dogs, yelping with most discordant fury, would give us loud
notice of their total disapprobation of all night travellers. Sometimes a
decided smell of boiled sugar was mingled with the fragrance of the orange
blossom and jasmine; reminding us of those happy days of yore, when the
housekeeper in all her glory, was engaged in making her annual stock of
jellies and jams.
Once we were obliged to dismount, that our horses might make an _ugly leap_
over a great ditch guarded by thorny bushes, and amongst trees where the
moon gave us no light.
About ten o'clock symptoms of weariness began to break out amongst us,
spite of moonbeams and orange-buds; when down in a valley we saw the sugar
fires of _Cocoyotla_, the hacienda to which we trusted for our next place
of shelter, darting out their fierce red tongues amongst the trees. We
knocked for admittance at the great gate, and it was some time before the
people within would undo the fastenings, which they did with great caution,
and after carefully reconnoitring us; afterwards giving for excuse, that a
party of thirty robbers had passed by the night before, and that they
thought we might have been some of these _night-errants_. We sent in our
credentials to the proprietor, an old gentleman married to a young wife,
who, living on the road to the cave, is by no means pleased at his house
being turned into a posada for all and sundry, and complained bitterly of a
party of Englishmen who had passed by some time before, "and the only
_Spanish_ word they could say, was _Vater_, by which they meant _Agua_,
Caramba!" However, he was very hospitable to us, and pressed us to remain
there the following day, and rest ourselves and our horses after our
fourteen leagues march, previous to going on to the cave.
A very good supper and a very sound sleep were refreshing, and the whole of
the next day we spent in wandering about or sitting lazily amongst the
magnificent orange-trees and cocoas of this fine hacienda. Here the
orange-trees are the loftiest we had yet seen; long ranges of noble trees,
loaded with fruit and flowers. At the back of the house is a small grove of
cocoas, and a clear running stream passing through beautiful flowers, and
refreshing everything in its course. Indeed all through _tierra caliente_,
except on the barren hills, there is a profusion of the most delicious
water, here at once a necessity and a luxury.
These sugar estates are under high cultivation, the crops abundant, the
water always more than sufficient both for the purposes of irrigation and
for machinery, which A---- considers equal to anything he has seen in
Jamaica. They produce annually from thirty to fifty thousand _arrobas_ of
sugar. The labourers are free Indians, and are paid from two and a half to
six and a half reals per day. I believe that about one hundred and fifty
are sufficient for working on a large estate. Bountiful nature, walking on
the traces of civil war, fills up the ravages caused by sanguinary
revolutions, and these estates in the valley of Cuernavaca, which have so
frequently been theatres of bloodshed, and have so often changed
proprietors, remain in themselves as fertile and productive as ever.
In the evening we visited the _trapiche_, as they call the sugar-works, the
sugar-boilers, warehouses, store-rooms, and engines. The heat is so intense
among these great boilers, that we could not endure it for more than a few
minutes, and pitied the men who have to spend their lives in this work.
They make _panoja_ on this estate, cakes of coarse sugar, which the common
people prefer to the refined sugar.
Just as we were preparing to retire for the night, an animal on the wall
attracted our attention, close by K----'s bed--and, gentle reader! it was a
scorpion! We gave a simultaneous cry, which brought Señor ----- into the
room, who laughed at our fears, and killed our foe; when lo! just as our
fright had passed away, another, a yellowish-coloured, venomous-looking
creature, appeared stealing along the wall. The lady of the house came this
time, and ordered the room and the beds to be searched. No more could be
discovered, but it was difficult to sleep in peace after such an
apparition.
At three the next morning we rose, and set off by moon and starlight for
the cave. The morning was lovely as usual, and quite cool. We passed a
great deal of barren and hilly road, till we reached some plains, where we
had a delightful gallop, and arrived early at a small rancho, or farmhouse,
where we were to procure guides for the cave. Here we added four Indians,
and the master of the house, _Benito_, to our party, which was afterwards
increased by numbers of men and boys, till we formed a perfect regiment.
This little rancho, with its small garden, was very clean and neat. The
woman of the house told us she had seen no ladies since an English
_Ministra_ had slept there two nights. We concluded that this must have
been Mrs. Ashburnham, who spent two days in exploring the cave. We
continued our ride over loose stones, and dry, rocky hills, where, were the
horses not sure-footed, and used to climb, the riders' necks would no doubt
suffer. Within about a quarter of a mile of the cave, after leaving on our
right the pretty village of Cautlamilpas, we found ourselves in a place
which I consider much more dangerous than even the barrancas near
_Meacatlan_; a narrow path, overhanging a steep precipice, and bordering a
perpendicular hill, with just room for the horses' feet, affording the
comfortable assurance that one false step would precipitate you to the
bottom. I confess to having held my breath, as one by one, and step by
step, no one looking to the right or the left, our gowns occasionally
catching on a bush, with our whole train we wound slowly down this narrow
descent. Arrived near the mouth of the cave, we dismounted, and climbed our
way among stones and gravel to the great mountain opening. But an account
of the cave itself must be reserved till our return to Atlacamulco.
LETTER THE THIRTY-THIRD
Cave of _Cacahuamilpa_--Superstition--Long-bearded Goat--Portal--
Vestibule--Fantastic Forms--Breakfast--Pine Torches--Noble Hall--
Stalactites and Stalagmites--Egyptian Pyramids--Double Gallery--Wonderful
Formations--Corridor--Frozen Landscape--Amphitheatre--World in Chaos--
Skeleton--Wax Lights--Hall of Angels--Return--Distant Light--Indian
Alcalde--_Cautlamilpas_--Rancho--Return to Cocoyotla--Chapel--Meacatlan--
Eclipse of the Moon--Benighted Travellers--Indian Village--_El Puente_--
Return to _Atlacamulco_.
ATLACAMULCO, 7th.
The cave of Cacahuamilpa, whose actual wonders equal the fabled
descriptions of the palaces of Genii, was, until lately, known to the
Indians alone, or if the Spaniards formerly knew anything about it, its
existence was forgotten amongst them. But although in former days it may
have been used as a place of worship, a superstitious fear prevented the
more modern Indians from exploring its shining recesses, for here it was
firmly believed the evil spirit had his dwelling, and in the form of a
goat, with long beard and horns, guarded the entrance of the cave. The few
who ventured there and beheld this apparition, brought back strange tales
to their credulous companions, and even the neighbourhood of the enchanted
cave was avoided, especially at nightfall.
The chain of mountains, into whose bosom it leads, is bleak and bare, but
the ravine below is refreshed by a rapid stream, that forms small
waterfalls as it tumbles over the rocks, and is bordered by green and
flowering trees. Amongst these, is one with a smooth, satin-like bark, of a
pale golden colour, whose roots have something snakish and witch-like in
their appearance, intertwining with each other, grappling as it were with
the hard rock, and stretching out to the most extraordinary distance.
We arrived at the entrance of the cave, a superb portal, upwards of seventy
feet high, and one hundred and fifty wide, according to the computation of
a learned traveller--the rocks which support the great arch so
symmetrically disposed as to resemble a work of art. The sun was already
high in the heavens, shining with intense brightness on the wild scenery
that surrounded us, the rocks and trees and rushing waters; a sensation of
awe came over us as we stood at the mouth of the cave, and, turning from
day to night, strained our eyes to look down a deep descent into a gigantic
vaulted hall, faintly lighted by the red embers of a fire which the Indians
had kindled near the entrance. We made our way down a declivity of, it may
be, one hundred and fifty feet, surrounded by blocks of stone and rock, and
remained lost in astonishment at finding ourselves in this gloomy
subterranean palace, surrounded by the most extraordinary, gigantic, and
mysterious forms, which it is scarcely possible to believe are the
fantastic productions of the water which constantly trickles from the roof.
I am shocked to confess it--I would prefer passing it over--but we had
tasted nothing that morning, and we had rode for eight hours, and were
dying of hunger! Moreover we travelled with a cook, a very tolerable native
artist, but without sentiment--his heart in his stew-pan; and he, without
the least compunction, had begun his frying and broiling operations in what
seemed the very vestibule of Pharaoh's palace. Our own _mozos_ and our
Indian guides were assisting in its operations with the utmost zeal; and in
a few minutes, some sitting round the fire, and others upon broken
pyramids, we refreshed ourselves with fried chicken, bread, and hard eggs,
before proceeding farther on our exploring expedition. Unromantic as this
proceeding was, we looked, Indians and all, rather awful, with no other
light than the ruddy glare of the fire, flickering upon the strange,
gigantic forms in that vast labyrinth; and as to what we felt, our valour
and strength of mind were increased sevenfold.
Twenty-four huge pine torches were then lighted, each man carrying one. To
K---- and me were given lighted wax candles, in case by accident any one
should go astray from his companions, and lose his way, as would too
certainly happen, in the different windings and galleries and compartments
of the cave, and be alone in the darkness! We walked on in awe and wonder,
the guides lighting up the sides of the cavern with their torches.
Unfortunately, it is indescribable; as in the fantastic forms of the
clouds, every one sees some different creation of his fancy in these
stupendous masses. It is said that the first _sala_, for travellers have
pretended to divide it into halls, and a very little imagination may do so,
is about two hundred feet long, one hundred and seventy wide, and one
hundred and fifty in height--a noble apartment. The walls are shaded with
different colours of green and orange; great sheets of stalactites hang
from the roof: and white phantoms, palm-trees, lofty pillars, pyramids,
porches, and a thousand other illusions, surround us on all sides. One
figure, concerning which all agree, is a long-haired goat, the Evil One in
that form. But some one has broken the head, perhaps to show the
powerlessness of the enchanted guardian of the cave. Some say that there
are no living animals here, but there is no doubt that there are bats; and
an exploring party, who passed the night here, not only heard the hissing
of the rattlesnake, but were startled by the apparition of a fierce
leopard, whose loud roarings were echoed amongst the vaults, and who, after
gazing at them by the light of the torches, stalked majestically back into
the darkness.
We passed on to the second _sala_, collecting as we went fragments of the
shining stones, our awe and astonishment increasing at every step.
Sometimes we seemed to be in a subterranean Egyptian temple. The
architecture was decidedly Egyptian, and the strange forms of the animals
resembled those of the uncouth Egyptian idols; which, together with the
pyramids and obelisks, made me think, that perhaps that ancient people took
the idea of their architecture and of many of their strange shapes from
some natural cave of this description, just as nature herself suggested the
idea of the beautiful Corinthian pillar.
Again we seemed to enter a tract of country which had been petrified.
Fountains of congealed water, trees hung with frozen moss, pillars covered
with gigantic acanthus leaves, pyramids of ninety feet high losing their
lofty heads in the darkness of the vault, and looking like works of the
pre-Adamites; yet no being but He who inhabits eternity could have created
them. This second hall, as lofty as the other, may be nearly four hundred
feet in length.
We then passed into a sort of double gallery, separated by enormous
pyramidal formations--_stalagmites_, those which are formed by water
dropping on the earth. The ground was damp, and occasionally great drops
trickled on our heads from the vaults above. Here Gothic shrines, odd
figures; some that look like mummies, others like old men with long beards,
appall us like figures that we see in some wild dream. These are
intermingled with pyramids, obelisks, baths that seem made of the purest
alabaster, etc. A number of small round balls, petrifactions of a dead
white, lie about here, forming little hollows in the ground. Here the cave
is very wide--about two hundred feet, it is said.
When we left this double gallery, we came to another vast corridor,
supported by lofty pillars, covered with creeping plants, but especially
with a row of the most gigantic cauliflowers, each leaf delicately
chiseled, and looking like a fitting food for the colossal dwellers of the
cavern. But to attempt anything like a regular description is out of the
question. We gave ourselves up to admiration, as our torches flashed upon
the masses of rock, the hills crowned with pyramids, the congealed torrents
that seem to belong to winter at the north pole, and the lofty Doric
columns that bring us back to the pure skies of Greece. But amongst all
these curious _accidents_ produced by water, none is more curiously
exquisite than an amphitheatre, with regular benches, surmounted by a great
organ, whose pipes, when struck, give forth a deep sound. It is really
difficult not to believe that some gigantic race once amused themselves in
these petrified solitudes, or that we have not invaded the sanctuary of
some mysterious and superhuman beings. It is said that this cavern has been
explored for four leagues, and yet that no exit has been discovered. As for
us, I do not know how far we went: our guides said a league. It seemed
impossible to think of time when we looked at these great masses, formed
drop by drop, slowly and rarely and at distant intervals falling, and
looked back upon the ages that must have elapsed since these gigantic
formations began.
At length, on account of the loose stones, the water, and the masses of
crystal rock that we had to climb over, our guides strongly recommended us
to return. It was difficult to turn away our eyes from the great unformed
masses that now seemed to fill the cave as far as the eye could reach. It
looked like the world in chaos--nature's vast workshop, from which she drew
the materials which her hand was to reduce to form and order. We retraced
our steps slowly and lingeringly through these subterranean palaces,
feeling that one day was not nearly sufficient to explore them, yet
thankful that we had not left the country without seeing them. The skeleton
of a man was discovered here by some travellers, lying on his side, the
head nearly covered with crystallization. He had probably entered these
labyrinths alone, either from rash curiosity or to escape from pursuit;
lost his way and perished from hunger. Indeed to find the way back to the
entrance of the cave is nearly impossible, without some clue to guide the
steps amongst these winding galleries, halls, and issues and entries, and
divided corridors.
Though there are some objects so striking that they may immediately be
recognised, such as the amphitheatre for instance, there is a monotony even
in the variety! and I can imagine the unfortunate man wandering amongst
obelisks and pyramids and alabaster baths and Grecian columns--amongst
frozen torrents that could not assuage his thirst, and trees with marble
fruit and foliage, and crystal vegetables that mocked his hunger: and pale
phantoms with long hair and figures in shrouds, that could not relieve his
distress--and then his cries for help, where the voice gives out an echo,
as if all the pale dwellers in the cave answered in mockery--and then, his
torch becoming extinguished, and he lying down exhausted and in despair
near some inhospitable marble porch, to die.
As we went along, our guides had climbed up and placed wax candles on the
top of all the highest points, so that their pale glimmering light pointed
out the way to us on our return. The Indians begged they might be left
there "on account of the blessed souls in purgatory," which was done. As we
returned, we saw one figure we had not observed before, which looks
something like a woman mounted on an enormous goat. To one hall, on account
of its beauty, some travellers have given the name of the "Hall of Angels."
It is said that, by observation, the height of the stalagmites might
determine the age of their formation, but where is the enterprising
geologist who would shut himself up in these crystal solitudes sufficiently
long for correct observation?
I never saw or could have imagined so beautiful an effect as that of the
daylight in the distance, entering by the mouth of the cave; such a faint
misty blue, contrasted with the fierce red light of the torches, and broken
by the pillars through which its pale rays struggled. It looked so pure and
holy, that it seemed like the light from an angel's wings at the portals of
the "_cittá dolente_." What would that poor traveller have given to have
seen its friendly rays! After climbing out and leaving the damp, cool
subterraneous air, the atmosphere felt dry and warm, as we sat down to rest
at the mouth of the cavern, surrounded by our Indian torch-bearers. Truly,
nature is no coquette. She adorns herself with greater riches in the
darkest mountain cave, than on the highest mountain top.
We were sitting in thoughtful silence, ourselves, Indians and all, in a
circle, when we saw, stumping down the hill, in great haste, and apparently
in great wrath, an Indian alcalde, with a thick staff in his hand, at whose
approach the Indians looked awe-struck. He carried in his brown hand a
large letter, on which was written in great type; "_Al Señor dominante de
esta caravana de gente_." "To the Commander of this caravan of people!"
This missive set forth that the justice of peace of the city of Cuautla
Amilpas, begged to know by what right, by whose authority, and with what
intentions we had entered this cave, without permission from government;
and desired the "_Señor dominante_" to appear forthwith before the said
justice for contempt of his authority. The spelling of the letter was too
amusing. The Indians looked very much alarmed, and when they saw us laugh,
still more astonished. C---n wrote with a pencil in answer to the summons,
that he was the Spanish Minister, and wished good day to the alcalde, who
plodded up the hill again, very ill pleased.
We now took leave of this prodigious subterranean palace, and again put
ourselves _en route_. Once more we wound our way round the brink of the
precipice, and this time it was more dangerous for us than before, for we
rode on the side next it, our gowns overhanging the brink, and if caught by
a branch there, might have been dragged over. Our two guides afterwards
said that if alone, they would have dismounted; but that as the ladies said
nothing, they did not like to propose it.
Some day, no doubt, this cave will become a show-place, and measures will
be taken to render the approach to it less dangerous; but as yet, one of
its charms consists in its being unhackneyed. For, long after, its
recollection rests upon the mind, like a marble dream. But, like Niagara,
it cannot be described; perhaps even it is more difficult to give an idea
of this underground creation, than of the emperor of cataracts; for there
is nothing with which the cave can be compared.
Meanwhile, we had rather a disagreeable ride, in all the force of the sun's
last rays, back to the rancho. No one spoke--all our thoughts were
wandering amongst marble palaces, and uncouth, gigantic, half-human forms.
But our attention was again attracted by the sudden reappearance of our
friend, the alcalde, on the brow of the hill, looking considerably
indignant. He came with a fresh summons from the judge of Cuautla Amilpas,
which lay white and glittering in the valley below. C---n endeavoured
gravely to explain to him that the persons of ambassadors were not subject
to such laws, which was Greek and Hebrew to him of the bronze countenance.
"If it were a _Consul_ indeed, there might be something in that." At last
our guide, the ranchero, promised to call upon the judge in the evening,
and explain the matter to his satisfaction; and again our alcalde departed
upon his bootless errand--bootless in every sense, as he stalked down the
hill with his bare bronze supporters. As we passed along, a parcel of
soldiers in the village were assembled in haste, who struck up an imposing
military air, to give us some idea of their importance.
Politically speaking, Cuautla Amilpas has been the theatre of important
events. It was there that the curate Morelos shut himself up with a troop
of insurgents, until the place being besieged by the Spaniards under
Calleja, and the party of Morelos driven to extremity for want of food, he
secretly abandoned his position, drawing off his forces in the night.
When we arrived at the rancho, we found that a message had come from the
judge, prohibiting Don Benito from accompanying strangers to the cave in
future, which would be hard upon the old man, who makes a little money by
occasionally guiding strangers there. C---n has therefore written on the
subject to the _prefect_ of the department.
In the cool of the evening, we had a delightful ride to Cocoyotla. The air
was soft and fragrant--the bells of the villages were ringing amongst the
trees, for every village, however poor, has at least one fine church, and
all the bells in Mexico, whether in the city or in the villages, have a
mellow and musical sound, owing, it is said, to the quantity of silver that
enters into their composition.
It was late when we arrived at Cocoyotla, but we did not go to rest without
visiting the beautiful chapel, which we had omitted to do on our last
visit; it is very rich in gilding and ornaments, very large and in good
taste. We supped, and threw ourselves down to rest for a few hours, and set
off again at three o'clock, by the light of a full moon. Our greatest
difficulty in these hurried marches is to get our things in and out of our
portmanteaus, and to dress in time in the dark. No looking-glasses of
course--we arrange our hair by our imagination. Everything gets broken, as
you may suppose; the mules that carry our trunks cantering up and down the
hills to keep up with us, in most unequal measure.
The moon was still high, though pale, when the sun rose, like a youthful
monarch impatient to take the reins from the hands of a mild and dying
queen. We had a delightful gallop, and soon left the fires of Cocoyotla far
behind us. After riding six leagues, we arrived at six in the morning at
the house of the Perez Palacios. We should have gone further while it was
cool; but their hospitality, added to a severe fit of toothache which had
attacked C---n, induced us to remain till four o'clock, during which time
we improved our acquaintance with the family. How strange and even
melancholy are those glimpses which travellers have of persons whom they
will probably never meet again; with whom they form an intimacy, which
owing to peculiar circumstances seems very like friendship--much nearer it
certainly, than many a long acquaintanceship which we form in great cities,
and where the parties go on _knowing each other_ from year to year, and
never exchanging more than a mere occasional and external civility.
It was four o'clock when we left Meacatlan, and we rode hard and fast till
it grew nearly dark, for our intention was to return to our head-quarters
at Atlacamulco that night, and we had a long journey before us, especially
as it was decided that we should by no means attempt to recross the
barrancas by night, which would have been too dangerous. Besides an eclipse
of the moon was predicted, and in fact, as we were riding across the
fields, she appeared above the horizon, half in shadow, a curious and
beautiful spectacle. But we should have been thankful for her entire beams,
for after riding for hours we discovered that we had lost our way, and
worse still, that there were no hopes of our finding it. Not a hut was in
sight--darkness coming on--nothing but great plains and mountains to be
distinguished, and nothing to be heard but bulls roaring round us. We went
on, trusting to chance, and where chance would have led us it is hard to
say; but by good fortune our advanced guard stumbled over two Indians, a
man and a boy, who agreed to guide us to their own village, but nowhere
else.
After following them a long and weary way, all going at a pretty brisk
trot, the barking of hundreds of dogs announced an Indian village, and by
the faint light we could just distinguish the cane huts snugly seated
amongst bananas and with little enclosed gardens before each. Our cavalcade
drew up before a hut, a sort of tavern or spirit-shop, where an old
half-naked hag, the _beau ideal_ of a witch, was distributing _fire-water_
to the Indians, most of whom were already drunk. We got off our horses and
threw ourselves down on the ground too tired to care what they were doing,
and by some means a cup of bad chocolate was procured for us. We found that
we had entirely lost our way, and it was therefore agreed, that instead of
attempting to reach Atlacamulco that night, we should ride to the village
of el Puente, where our conductors knew a Spanish family of bachelor
brothers, who would be glad to _harbour_ us for the remainder of the night.
We then remounted and set off somewhat refreshed by our rest and by the bad
chocolate.
It was late at night when we entered el Puente, after having crossed in
pitch darkness a river so deep that the horses were nearly carried off
their feet; yet they were dancing in one place, playing cards on the ground
in another, dogs were barking as usual, and candles lighted in the Indian
huts. We were very well received by the Spaniards, who gave us supper and
made us take their room, all the rest of the party sleeping upon mattresses
placed on the floor of a large empty apartment. We slept a few hours very
soundly, rose before daylight, wakened the others, who, lying on the
ground, rolled up in their sarapes, seemed to be sleeping for a wager, and
remounted our horses, not sorry at the prospect of a day's rest at
Atlacamulco. It was dark when we set off; but the sun had risen and had
lighted up the bright green fields of sugar-cane, and the beautiful
coffee-plantations that look like flowering myrtles, by the time we reached
the hacienda of Señor Neri del Barrio, whose family is amongst the most
distinguished of the old _Spanish Mexican_ stock. We stopped to take a
tumbler of milk fresh from the cow; declined an invitation to go in, as we
were anxious to finish our journey while it was cool; and after a hard ride
galloped into the courtyard of Atlacamulco, which seemed like returning
home. We spent a pleasant, idle day, lying down and reading while the sun
was high, and in the evening sauntering about under the orange trees. We
concluded with a hot bath.
7th.--Before continuing our journey, we determined to spend one more day
here, which was fortunate, as we received a large packet of letters from
home, forwarded to this place, and we have been reading them, stretched
under the shade of a natural bower formed by orange-boughs, near a clear,
cold tank of water in the garden. To-morrow we shall set off betimes for
the hacienda of Cocoyoc, the property of Don Juan Goriva, with whom C---n
was acquainted in Mexico. After visiting that and some other of the
principal estates, we shall continue our ride to Puebla, and as we shall
pass a few days there, hope to have leisure to write again from that city.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FOURTH
Ride by Starlight--Fear of Robbers--Tropical Wild Flowers--Stout Escort--
_Hautepec_--Hacienda of _Cocoyoc_--A Fire--Three Thousand Orange-trees--
Coffee Mills, etc.--Variety of Tropical Fruits--Prodigality of Nature--
_Casasano_--Celebrated Reservoir--Ride to Santa Clara--A Philosopher--A
Scorpion--Leave Santa Clara--Dangerous _Barranca_--_Colon_--Agreeable
House--Civil _Administrador_--San Nicolas--Solitude--Franciscan Friar--
Rainy Morning--Pink Turban--Arrival at _Atlisco_--Cypress--Department of
Puebla--Volcanoes--Doña Marina--Verses--_Popocatepetl_--Cholula--Great
Pyramid--Arrival at Puebla.
On the 9th of February we took leave of Atlacamulco and the hospitable
administrador, and our party being diminished by the absence of Don Pedro,
who was obliged to go to Mexico, we set off as usual by starlight, being
warned of various _bad bits_ on the road, where the ladies at least were
advised to dismount. The country was wild and pretty, mountainous and
stony. When the light came in we separated and galloped about in all
directions. The air was cool and laden with sweetness. We came, however, to
a pretty lane, where those of our escort who were in front stopped, and
those who were behind rode up and begged us to keep close together, as for
many leagues the country was haunted by robbers. Guns and pistols being
looked to, we rode on in serried ranks, expecting every moment to hear a
bullet whizz over our heads.
Here were the most beautiful wild flowers we have yet seen; some purple,
white, and rose-colour in one blossom; probably the flower called
_ocelojochitl_, or viper's head, others bright scarlet, others red, with
white and yellow stripes, and with an Indian name, signifying the tiger's
flower; some had rose-coloured blossoms, others were of the purest white.
We came at last to a road over a mountain, about as bad as anything we had
yet seen. Our train of horses and mules, and men in their Mexican dresses,
looked very picturesque winding up and down these steep crags; and here
again, forgetful of robbers, each one wandered according to his own fancy,
some riding forward, and others lingering behind to pull branches of these
beautiful wild blossoms. The horses' heads were covered with flowers of
every colour, so that they looked like victims adorned for sacrifice. C---n
indulged his botanical and geological propensities, occasionally to the
great detriment of his companions, as we were anxious to arrive at some
resting-place before the sun became insupportable. As for the robbers,
these gentlemen, who always keep a sharp look-out, and rarely endanger
their precious persons without some sufficient motive, and who, moreover,
seem to have some magical power of seeing through stone walls and into
portmanteaus, were no doubt aware that our luggage would neither have
replenished their own nor their _ladies_' wardrobes, and calculated that
people who travel for pleasure are not likely to carry any great quantity
of superfluous coin. Besides this, they are much more afraid of these
honest, stout, well-armed farm servants, who are a fine race of men, than
even soldiers.
We arrived about six o'clock at the village of Hautepec, remarkable for its
fine old church and lofty trees, especially for one magnificent
wide-spreading ash-tree in the churchyard. There were also many of those
pretty trees with the silvery bark, which always look as if the moon were
shining on them. The road began to improve, but the sun became very
oppressive about nine o'clock, when we arrived at a pretty village, which
had a large church and a _venta_ (tavern), where we stopped to refresh
ourselves with water and some very well-baked small cakes. The village was
so pretty that we had some thoughts of remaining there till the evening,
but as Don Juan assured us that one hour's good gallop would carry us to
Cocoyoc, the hacienda of Don Juan Gorivar, we determined to continue. We
had a dreadful ride in the hot sun, till we arrived at a pretty Indian
village on the estate, and shortly after entered the courtyard of the great
hacienda of Cocoyoc, where we were most hospitably welcomed by the
proprietor and his family.
We were very tired owing to the extreme heat, and white with dust. A fresh
toilet, cold water, an hour's rest, and an excellent breakfast, did wonders
for us. Soon after our arrival, the sugar-house, or rather the cane
rubbish, took fire, and the great bell swung heavily to and fro, summoning
the workmen to assist in getting it under. It was not extinguished for some
time, and the building is so near the house, that the family were a little
alarmed. We stood on the balcony, which commands a beautiful view of
Popocatepetl, watching the blaze. After a hard battle between fire and
water, water carried the day.
In the evening we drove to the orange grove, where three thousand lofty
trees are ranged in avenues, literally bending under the weight of their
golden fruit and snowy blossom. I never saw a more beautiful sight. Each
tree is perfect, and lofty as a forest tree. The ground under their broad
shadows is strewed with thousands of oranges, dropping in their ripeness,
and covered with the white, fragrant blossoms. The place is lovely, and
everywhere traversed by streams of the purest water. We ate a disgraceful
number of oranges, limes, guayavas, and all manner of fruits, and even
tasted the sweet beans of the coffee-plants.
We spent the next morning in visiting the coffee-mills, the great
brandy-works, sugar-houses, etc., all which are in the highest order; and
in strolling through the orange groves, and admiring the curious and
beautiful flowers, and walking among orchards of loaded fruit-trees--the
calabash, papaw, mango, tamarind, citron--also mameys, chirimoyas, custard
apples, and all the family of the zapotes, white, black, yellow, and
_chico_; cayotes, cocoas, cacahuates, aguacates, etc., etc., etc., a list
without an end.
Besides these are an infinity of trees covered with the brightest blossoms;
one, with large scarlet flowers, most gorgeous in their colouring, and one
whose blossoms are so like large pink silk tassels, that if hung to the
cushions of a sofa, you could not discover them to be flowers. What
prodigality of nature in these regions! With what a lavish hand she flings
beauty and luxury to her tropical children!
In the evening we drove to Casasano, an hacienda about three leagues from
Cocoyoc, and passed by several other fine estates, amongst others, the
hacienda of Calderon. Casasano is an immense old house, very dull-looking,
the road to which lies through a fine park for cattle, dotted with great
old trees, but of which the grass is very much burnt up. Each hacienda has
a large chapel attached to it, at which all the workmen and villagers in
the environs attend mass; a padre coming from a distance on Sundays and
fête-days. Frequently there is one attached to the establishment. We went
to see the celebrated water-tank of Casasano, the largest and most
beautiful reservoir in this part of the country; the water so pure, that
though upwards of thirty feet deep, every blade of grass at the bottom is
visible. Even a pin, dropped upon the stones below, is seen shining quite
distinctly. A stone wall, level with the water, thirty feet high, encloses
it, on which I ventured to walk all round the tank, which is of an oval
form, with the assistance of our host, going one by one. A fall would be
sufficiently awkward, involving drowning on one side and breaking your neck
on the other. The water is beautiful--a perfect mirror, with long green
feathery plants at the bottom.
The next morning we took leave of our friends at three o'clock, and set off
for Santa Clara, the hacienda of Don Eusebio Garcia. Señor Goriva made me a
present of a very good horse, and our ride that day was delightful, though
the roads led over the most terrible barrancas. For nine long leagues, we
did nothing but ford rivers and climb steep hills, those who were pretty
well mounted beating up the tired cavalry. But during the first hours of
our ride, the air was so fresh among the hills, that even when the sun was
high, we suffered little from the heat; and the beautiful and varied views
we met at every turn were full of interest. Santa Clara is a striking,
imposing mass of building, beautifully situated at the foot of three bold,
high rocks, with a remarkably handsome church attached to it. The family
were from home, and the agent was a philosopher, living upon herb-tea,
quite above the common affairs of life. It is a fine hacienda, and very
productive, but sad and solitary in the extreme, and as K---- and I walked
about in the courtyard after supper, where we had listened to frightful
stories of robbers and robberies, we felt rather uncomfortably dreary, and
anxious to change our quarters. We visited the sugar-works, which are like
all others, the chapel, which is very fine, and the shop where they sell
spirituous liquors and calicoes. The hills looked gray and solemn. The sun
sank gloomy behind them, his colour a turbid red. So much had been said
about robbers, that we were not sure how our next day's journey might
terminate. The administrador's own servant had turned out to be the captain
of a band! whom the robbers, from some mysterious motive, had murdered a
few days before. As we intended to rise before dawn, we went to bed early,
about nine o'clock, and were just in the act of extinguishing a
melancholy-looking candle, when we were startled by the sight of an alacran
on the wall. A man six feet high came at our call. He looked at the
scorpion, shook his head, and ran out. He came back in a little while with
another large man, he with a great shoe in his hand, and his friend with a
long pole. While they were both hesitating how to kill it, Don Juan came
in, and did the deed. We had a melancholy night after this, afraid of
everything, with a long unsnuffed candle illuminating the darkness of our
large and lonely chamber. The next morning, the ninth of February, before
sunrise, we took our leave, in the darkness, of Santa Clara and the
philosopher. The morning, wonderful to relate, was windy, and almost cold.
The roads were frightful, and we hailed the first gray streak that appeared
in the eastern sky, announcing the dawn, which might enable us at least to
see our perils. Fortunately it was bright daylight when we found ourselves
crossing--a barranca, so dangerous, that after following for some time the
precipitous course of the mountain path, we thought it advisable to get off
our horses, who were pawing the slippery rock, without being able to find
any rest for the soles of their feet. We had a good deal of difficulty in
getting along ourselves on foot among the loose, sharp stones, and the
horses, between sliding and stumbling, were a long while in accomplishing
the descent. After climbing up the barranca, one of them ran off along the
edge of the cliff, as if he were determined to cut the whole concern, and
we wasted some time in catching him.
It was the afternoon when we rode through the lanes of a large Indian
village, and shortly after arrived at Colon, an hacienda belonging to Don
Antonio Orria. He was from home, but the good reception of the honest
administrador, the nice, clean, cheerful house, with its pretty painted
chairs, good beds, the excellent breakfasts and dinners, and the _good
will_ visible in the whole establishment, delighted us very much, and
decided us to pitch our tent here for a day or two. Some Spaniards, hearing
of C---n's arrival, rode over from a distance to see him, and dined with
us. There was a capital housekeeper, famous for her excellent cakes and
preserves. We had also the refreshment of a warm bath, and felt ourselves
as much at home as if we had been in our own house.
The next morning we rode through the great sugarcane fields to the hacienda
of San Nicolas, one of the finest estates in the republic, eighteen leagues
long and five wide, belonging to Señor Zamora, in right of his wife. It is
a productive place, but a singularly dreary residence. We walked out to see
all the works, which are on a great scale, and breakfasted with the
proprietor, who was there alone. We amused ourselves by seeing the workmen
receive their weekly pay (this being Saturday), and at the mountains of
copper piled up on tables in front of the house. There is a feeling of
vastness, of solitude, and of dreariness in some of these great haciendas,
which is oppressive. Especially about noon, when everything is still, and
there is no sound except the incessant buzz of myriads of insects, I can
imagine it like what the world must have been before man was created.
Colon, which is not so large as San Nicolas, has a greater air of life
about it; and in fact we liked it so well, that, as ----- observed, we
seemed inclined to consider it, not as a _colon_, but a _full stop_. You
must not expect more vivacious puns in _tierra caliente_. We rode back from
San Nicolas in the afternoon, accompanied by the proprietor, and had some
thoughts of going to _Matamoras_ in the evening, to see the "Barber of
Seville" performed by a strolling company in the open air, under a tree!
admittance twenty-five cents. However, we ended by remaining where we were,
and spent the evening in walking about through the village, surrounded by
barking dogs, the greatest nuisance in these places, and pulling wild
flowers, and gathering castor-oil nuts from the trees. A begging Franciscan
friar, from the convent of San Fernando, arrived for his yearly supply of
sugar which he begs from the different haciendas, for his convent, a
tribute which is never refused.
We left our hospitable entertainer the next morning, with the addition of
sundry baskets of cake and fruit from the housekeeper. As we were setting
off, I asked the administrador if there were any barrancas on this road.
"No," said he, "but I have sent a basketful with one of the boys, as they
are very refreshing." I made no remark, concluding that I should find out
his meaning in the course of the journey, but keeping a sharp look-out on
the mysterious _mozo_, who was added to our train. When the light became
stronger, I perceived that he carried under his sarape a large basket of
fine _naranjas_ (oranges), which no doubt the honest administrador thought
I was inquiring after. It rained, when we left Colon, a thick misty
drizzle, and the difference of the temperature gave us notice that we were
passing out of _tierra caliente_. The road was so straight and
uninteresting, though the surrounding country was fertile, that a few
barrancas would really have been enlivening.
At Colon we took leave of our conductor, Don Juan, who returned to
Atlacamulco, and got a new director of our forces, a handsome man, yclept
Don Francisco, who had been a Spanish soldier. We had an uncomfortable ride
in a high wind and hard rain, the roads good, but devoid of interest, so
that we were glad when we learnt that _Atlisco_, a town where we were to
pass the night, was not far off. Within a mile or two of the city we were
met by a tall man on horseback, with a pink turban, and a wild, swarthy
face, who looked like an Abencerrage, and who came with the compliments of
his master, a Spanish gentleman, to say that a house had been prepared for
us in the town.
Atlisco is a large town, with a high mountain behind it, crowned by a white
chapel, a magnificent church at the base; the whole city full of fine
churches and convents, with a plaza and many good houses. The numerous
pipes, pointed all along from the roofs, have a very threatening and
warlike effect; one seems to ride up the principal street under a strong
fire. We found that Don Fernando -----, pink turban's master, not
considering his own house good enough, had, on hearing of our expected
arrival, hired another, and furnished part of it for us! This is the sort
of wholesale hospitality one meets with in this country. Our room looked
out upon an old Carmelite monastery, where C---n, having a recommendation
to the prior, paid a visit, and found one or two good paintings. Here also
we saw the famous cypress mentioned by Humboldt, which is seventy-three
feet in circumference. The next morning we set out with an escort of seven
_mozos_, headed by Don Francisco, and all well armed, for the road from
Atlisco to Puebla is the robbers' highway, _par excellence_.
This valley of Atlisco, as indeed the whole department of Puebla, is noted
for its fertility, and its abundant crops of maguey, wheat, maize,
frijoles, garbanzos, barley, and other vegetables, as well as for the
fineness of its fruits, its chirimoyas, etc. There is a Spanish proverb
which says,
"Si a morar en Indías feures,
Que sea doude los volcanes vieres."
"If you go to live in the Indias, let it be within sight of the volcanoes;"
for it appears that all the lands surrounding the different volcanoes are
fertile, and enjoy a pleasant climate. The great Cordilleras of Anahuac
cross this territory, and amongst these are the Mountain of the Malinchi,
Ixtaccihuatl, Popocatepetl, and the Peak of Orizava. The Malinchi, a
corruption by the Spaniards of the Indian name Malintzin, signifying Doña
María or Marina, is supposed to be called after Cortes's Indian Egería, the
first Christian woman of the Mexican empire.
Though given to Cortes by the Tabascan Indians, it seems clear that she was
of noble birth, and that her father was the lord of many cities. It is
pretended that she fell into a tributary situation, through the treachery
of her mother, who remarried after the death of her first husband, and who,
bestowing all her affection on the son born of this second marriage,
determined, in concert with her husband, that all their wealth should pass
to him. It happened, in furtherance of their views, that the daughter of
one of their slaves died, upon which they gave out that they had lost their
own daughter, affected to mourn for her, and, at the same time, privately
sold her, after the fashion of Joséph's brethren, to some merchants of
Gicalanco, who in their turn disposed of her to their neighbours, the
Tabascans, who presented her to Cortes. That she was beautiful and of great
talent, versed in different dialects, the devoted friend of the Spaniards,
and serving as their interpreter in their negotiations with the various
Indian tribes, there seems no doubt. She accompanied Cortes in all his
expeditions--he followed her advice; and in the whole history of the
conquest, Doña Marina (the name given to the beautiful slave at her
Christian baptism) played an important part. Her son, Martin Cortes, a
knight of the order of Santiago, was put to the torture in the time of
Philip II., on some unfounded suspicion of rebellion. It is said that when
Cortes, accompanied by Doña Marina, went to Honduras, she met her guilty
relatives, who, bathed in tears, threw themselves at her feet, fearful lest
she might avenge herself of their cruel treatment; but that she calmed
their fears, and received them with much kindness. The name of her
birthplace was Painala, a village in the province of Cuatzacualco. After
the conquest, she was married to a Spaniard, named Juan de Jaramillo.
But I have wandered a long way from the Sierra Malinchi. The two great
volcanoes, but especially Popocatepetl, the highest mountain in New Spain,
seem to follow the traveller like his guardian spirit, wherever he goes.
Orizava, which forms a boundary between the departments of Puebla and Vera
Cruz, is said to be the most beautiful of mountains on a near approach, as
it is the most magnificent at a distance; for while its summit is crowned
with snow, its central part is girded by thick forests of cedar and pine,
and its base is adorned with woods and sloping fields covered with flocks,
and dotted with white ranchos and small scattered villages; forming the
most agreeable and varied landscape imaginable. Ixtaccihuatl means white
woman; Popocatepetl the mountain that throws out smoke. They are thus
celebrated by the poet Heredia:
Nieve eternal corona las cabezas
De Ixtaccihuatl puríssimo, Orizava
Y Popocatepetl; sin que el invierno
Toque jamás con destructura mano
Los campos fertillísimos do ledo
Los mira el indio en purpura ligera
Yoro teñirse, reflejando el brillo
Del sol en Occidente, que sereno
En yelo eterno y perennal verdura
A torrentes versió su luz dorada,
Y vió a naturaleza conmovida
Con su dulce calor, hervir en vida.
TRANSLATION.
Eternal snow crowns the majestic heads
Of Orizava, Popocatepetl,
And of Ixtaccihuatl the most pure.
Never does winter with destructive hand
Lay waste the fertile fields where from afar
The Indian views them bathed in purple light
And dyed in gold, reflecting the last rays
Of the bright sun, which, sinking in the west,
Poured forth his flood of golden light, serene
Midst ice eternal, and perennial green;
And saw all nature warming into life,
Moved by the gentle radiance of his fires.
The morning was really cold, and when we first set out, Pococatepetl was
rolled up in a mantle of clouds. The road led us very near him. The wind
was very piercing:, and K---- was mounted on a curate's pony, evidently
accustomed to short distances and easy travelling. We had been told that it
was "muy proprio para Señora," very much suited to a lady, an encomium
always passed upon the oldest, most stupid, and most obstinate quadruped
that the haciendas can boast. We overtook and passed a party of cavalry,
guarding some prisoners, whom they were conducting to Puebla.
As the sun rose, all eyes were turned with amazement and admiration to the
great volcano. The clouds parted in the middle, and rolled off in great
volumes, like a curtain withdrawn from a high altar. The snowy top and
sides of the mountain appeared, shining in the bright sun, like a grand
dome of the purest white marble. But it cannot be described. I thought of
Sinai, of Moses on the Mount, when the glory of the Lord was passing by; of
the mountain of the Transfiguration, something too intolerably bright and
magnificent for mortal eye to look upon and live. We rode slowly, and in
speechless wonder, till the sun, which had crowned the mountain like a
glory, rose slowly from its radiant brow, and we were reminded that it was
time to ride forwards.
We were not far from the ancient city of Cholula, lying on a great plain at
a short distance from the mountains, and glittering in the sunbeams, as if
it still were the city of predilection as in former days, when it was the
sacred city, "the Rome of Anahuac." It is still a large town, with a
spacious square and many churches, and the ruins of its great pyramid still
attest its former grandeur; but of the forty thousand houses and four
hundred churches mentioned by Cortes, there are no traces. The base of this
pyramid, which at a distance looks like a conical mountain, is said by
Humboldt to be larger than that of any discovered in the old continent,
being double that of Cheops. It is made of layers of bricks mixed with
coats of clay and contains four stories. In the midst of the principal
platform, where the Indians worshipped Quetzalcoatl, the god of the air
(according to some the patriarch Noah, and according to others the apostle
Saint Thomas! for _doctors differ_), rises a church dedicated to the Virgen
de los Remedios, surrounded by cypresses, from which there is one of the
most beautiful views in the world. From this pyramid, and it is not the
least interesting circumstance connected with it, Humboldt made many of his
valuable astronomical observations.
The treachery of the people and priests of Cholula, who, after welcoming
Cortes and the Spaniards, formed a plan for exterminating them all, which
was discovered by Doña Marina, through the medium of a lady of the city,
was visited by him with the most signal vengeance. The slaughter was
dreadful; the streets were covered with dead bodies, and houses and temples
were burnt to the ground. This great temple was afterwards purified by his
orders, and the standard of the cross solemnly planted in the midst.
Cholula, not being on the direct road to Puebla, is little visited, and as
for us our time was now so limited, that we were obliged to content
ourselves with a mere passing observation of the pyramid, and then to hurry
forward to Puebla.
We entered that city to the number of eighteen persons, eighteen horses,
and several mules, and passed some people near the gates who were carrying
blue-eyed angels to the chosen city, and who nearly let them drop, in
astonishment, on seeing such a cavalcade. We were very cold, and felt very
tired as we rode into the courtyard of the hotel, yet rather chagrined to
think that the remainder of our journey was now to be performed in a
diligence. Having brought my story up to civilized life, and it being late,
I conclude.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH
Theatre--Portmanteaus--Visitors--Houses of Puebla--Fine Arts--Paseo--Don
N. Ramos Arispe--Bishop--Cotton Factories--Don Esteban Antunano--Bank of
_Avio_--United States Machinery--Accidents--Difficulties--Shipwrecks--
Detentions--Wonderful Perseverance--"_La Constancia Mejicana_" Hospital--
Prison--El Carmen--Paintings--Painted Floors--Angels--Cathedral--Gold and
Jewels--A Comedy--Bishop's Palace--Want of Masters.
PUEBLA.
You will be surprised when I tell you that, notwithstanding our fatigue, we
went to the theatre the evening we arrived, and sat through a long and
tragical performance, in the box of Don A---o H---o, one of the richest
citizens of Puebla, who, hearing of our arrival, instantly came to invite
us to his house, where he assured us rooms were prepared for our reception.
But being no longer in savage parts, where it is necessary to throw
yourself on the hospitality of strangers or to sleep in the open air, we
declined his kind offer, and remained in the inn, which is very tolerable,
though we do not see it now _en beau_ as we did last year, when we were
expected there. The theatre is clean and neat, but dull, and we were much
more looked at than the actors, for few foreigners (ladies especially)
remain here for any length of time, and their appearance is somewhat of a
novelty. Our toilet occasioned us no small difficulty, now that we were
again in polished cities, for you may imagine the condition of our trunks,
which two mules had galloped with over ninety leagues of plain and
mountain, and which had been opened every night. Such torn gowns, crushed
collars, ruined pelerines! One carpet bag had burst and discharged its
contents of combs, brushes, etc., over a barranca, where some day they may
be picked up as Indian antiquities, and sent to the Museum, to be preserved
as a proof that Montezuma's wives brushed their hair. However, by dint of a
washerwoman and sundry messages to _peluqueros_ (hair-dressers), we were
enabled to _turn out_ something like Christian travellers. The first night
we could not sleep on account of the innumerable ants, attracted probably
by a small garden, with one or two orange-trees in it, into which our room
opened.
The next morning we had a great many visitors, and though there is here a
good deal of that provincial pretension one always meets with out of a
capital, we found some pleasant people amongst them. The Señora H---o came
in a very handsome carriage, with beautiful northern horses, and took us
out to see something of the town. Its extreme cleanness after Mexico is
remarkable. In that respect it is the Philadelphia of the republic; with
wide streets, well paved; large houses of two stories, very solid and well
built; magnificent churches, plenty of water, and withal a dullness which
makes one feel as if the houses were rows of convents, and all the people,
except beggars and a few business men, shut up in performance of a vow.
The house of Don A---o H---o is, I think, more elegantly furnished than any
in Mexico. It is of immense size, and the floors beautifully painted. One
large room is furnished with pale blue satin, another with crimson damask,
and there are fine inlaid tables, handsome mirrors, and everything in very
good taste. He and his wife are both very young--she not more than
nineteen, very delicate and pretty, and very fair; and in her dress,
neatness, and house, she reminds me of a Philadelphian, always with the
exception of her diamonds and pearls. The ladies smoke more, or at least
more openly, than in Mexico; but they have so few amusements, they deserve
more indulgence. There are eleven convents of nuns in the city, and taking
the veil is as common as being married. We dined at the Señora H---o's;
found her very amiable, and heard a young lady sing, who has a good voice,
but complains that there are no music-masters in Puebla.
The fine arts, however, are not entirely at a standstill here; and in
architecture, sculpture, and painting, there is a good deal, comparatively
speaking, worthy of notice. There used to be a proverb amongst the
Mexicans, that "if all men had five senses, the Poblanos had seven." They
are considered very reserved in their manners--a natural consequence of
their having actually no society. Formerly, Puebla rivalled Mexico in
population and in industry. The plague, which carried off fifty thousand
persons, was followed by the pestilence of civil war, and Puebla dwindled
down to a very secondary city. But we now hear a great deal of their
cotton-factories, and of the machines, instruments, and workmen, brought
from Europe here, already giving employment to thirty thousand individuals.
In the evening we drove to the new paseo, a public promenade, where none of
the public were to be seen, and which will be pretty when the young trees
grow.
19th.--C---n went out early, and returned the visit of the celebrated Don
N. Ramos Arispe, now an old man, and canon of the cathedral, but formerly
deputy in the Spanish Cortes, and the most zealous supporter of the cause
of independence. It is said that he owed the great influence which he had
over men of a middling character, rather to his energetic, some say to his
domineering disposition, than to genius; that he was clear-headed, active,
dexterous, remarkable for discovering hidden springs and secret motives,
and always keeping his subordinates zealously employed in his affairs.
C---n also visited the bishop, Señor Vasques, who obtained from Rome the
acknowledgment of independence.
We set out after breakfast with several gentlemen, who came to take us to
the cotton-factories, etc. We went first to visit the factory established
at the mill of Santo Domingo, a little way out of the city, and called "La
Constancia Mejicana" (Mexican Constancy). It was the first established in
the republic, and deserves its name from the great obstacles that were
thrown in the way of its construction, and the numerous difficulties that
had to be conquered before it came into effect.
In 1831 a junta for the encouragement of public industry was formed, but
the obstacles thrown in the way of every proposal were so great, that the
members all abandoned it in despair, excepting only the Señor _Don Esteban
Antunano_, who was determined himself to establish a manufactory of cotton,
to give up his commercial relations, and to employ his whole fortune in
attaining this object.
He bought the mill of Santo Domingo for one hundred and seventy-eight
thousand dollars, and began to build the edifice, employing foreign workmen
at exorbitant prices. In this he spent so much of his capital, that he was
obliged to have recourse to the Bank of _Avio_ for assistance. The bank
(_avio_ meaning pecuniary assistance, or advance of funds) was established
by Don Lucas Alaman, and intended as an encouragement to industry. But
industry is not of the nature of a hothouse plant, to be forced by
artificial means; and these grants of funds have but created monopolies,
and consequently added to the general poverty. Machinery, to the amount of
three thousand eight hundred and forty spindles, was ordered for Antunano
from the United States, and a loan granted him of one hundred and
seventy-eight thousand dollars, but of which he never received the whole.
Meanwhile his project was sneered at as absurd, impossible, ruinous; but,
firmly resolved not to abandon his enterprise, he contented himself with
living with the strictest economy, himself and his numerous family almost
suffering from want, and frequently unable to obtain credit for the
provisions necessary for their daily use.
To hasten the arrival of the machinery, he sent an agent to the north to
superintend it, and to hire workmen; but the commercial house to which he
was recommended, and which at first gave him the sums he required, lost
their confidence in the agent, and redemanded their money, so that he was
forced to sell his clothes in order to obtain food and lodging. In July,
1833, the machinery was embarked at Philadelphia, and in August arrived at
Vera Cruz, to the care of Señor Paso y Troncoso, who never abandoned
Antunano in his adversity, and even lent him unlimited sums; but much delay
ensued, and a year elapsed before it reached Puebla. There, after it was
all set up, the ignorant foreign workmen declared that no good results
would ever be obtained; that the machines were bad, and the cotton worse.
However, by the month of January, 1833, they began to work in the factory,
to which was given the name of "Mexican Constancy." A mechanist was then
sent to the north, to procure a collection of new machinery; and, after
extraordinary delays and difficulties, he embarked with it at New York in
February, 1837.
He was shipwrecked near Cayo-Hueso, and, with all the machinery he could
save, returned to the north in the brig Argos; but on his way there he was
shipwrecked again, and all the machinery lost! He went to Philadelphia, to
have new machines constructed, and in August re-embarked in the Delaware.
Incredible as it may seem, the Delaware was wrecked off Cayo-Alcatraces,
and for the third time the machinery was lost, the mechanist saving himself
with great difficulty!
It seemed as if gods and men had conspired against the cotton spindles; yet
Antunano persevered. Fresh machinery was ordered; and though by another
fatality it was detained, owing to the blockade of the ports by the French
squadron, seven thousand spindles were landed, and speedily put in
operation. Others have followed the example of Señor Antunano, who has
given a decided impulse to industry in Puebla, besides a most extraordinary
example of perseverance, and a determined struggle against what men call
_bad luck,_ which persons of a feebler character sink under, while stronger
minds oppose till they conquer it.
It was in his carriage we went, and he accompanied us all over the
building. It is beautifully situated, and at a distance has more the air of
a summer palace than of a cotton-factory. Its order and airiness are
delightful, and in the middle of the court, in front of the building, is a
large fountain of the purest water. A Scotchman, who has been there for
some time, says he has never seen anything to compare with it, and he
worked six years in the United States. Antunano is unfortunately very deaf,
and obliged to use an ear-trumpet. He seems an excellent man, and I trust
he may be ultimately successful. We came out covered with cotton, as if we
had been just unpacked, and were next taken to visit a very handsome new
prison, which they are building in the city, but whether it will ever be
finished, or not, is more doubtful. We also visited the Foundling Hospital,
a large building, where there are more children than funds. They were all
clean and respectable-looking, but very poor. Antunano presented them with
two hundred dollars, as a memorial, he said, of our visit.
C---n then went to the convent of El Carmen, to see the paintings of the
Life of the Virgin, supposed to be original works of Murillo, particularly
the Ascension and Circumcision; but which are ill-arranged, and have
suffered greatly from neglect, many of them being torn. Indeed, in some of
them are large holes made by the boys, who insisted that the Jewish priest
was _the devil._ There is a Descent from the Cross, which is reckoned a
fine painting; and it is a pity that these works should be shut up in this
old convent, where there are about half-a-dozen old monks, and where they
serve no purpose, useful or ornamental. Were they removed to the Mexican
Museum, and arranged with care, they would at least serve as models for
those young artists who have not the means of forming their taste by
European travel. Zendejas as a painter, and Coro as a sculptor, both
natives of Puebla, are celebrated in their respective arts, but we have not
yet seen any of their works. C---n also visited the bishop, and saw his
paintings and library, which we hope to do to-morrow; and from thence went
to the college, the rector of which was _attache_ in Spain to the Minister
Santa María.
We dined again in the house of Señor H---o. The manner in which his floors
are painted is pretty and curious. It is in imitation of carpets, and is
very rich in appearance and very cool in reality. A great many of the
floors here are painted in this way, either upon canvas with oil colours,
or upon a cement extended upon the bricks of which the floor is made, and
prepared with glue, lime, or clay, and soap.
Señor H---o has four young and pretty sisters, all nuns in different
convents. As there are no other schools but these convents, the young girls
who are sent there become attached to the nuns, and prefer remaining with
them for ever to returning home. After dinner, accompanied by Don N. Ramos
Arispe, whom C---n formerly knew intimately in Madrid, and by various other
ecclesiastics, we visited the boast of Puebla, the cathedral, which we did
not do when we passed through the city on our arrival last year. To my
mind, I have never seen anything more noble and magnificent. It is said
that the rapid progress of the building was owing to the assistance of two
angels, who nightly descended and added to its height, so that each morning
the astonished workmen found their labour incredibly advanced. The name
given to the city, "Puebla de los Angeles," is said to be owing to this
tradition.
It is not so large as the cathedral of Mexico, but it is more elegant,
simpler, and in better taste. Sixteen columns of exquisite marble, adorned
with silver and gold, form the _tabernacle_ (in Mexico called _el Cipres_).
This native marble, called Puebla marble, is brought from the quarries of
Totamehuacan and Tecali, at two and seven leagues from the city. The floor
of the cathedral is of marble--the great screens and high-backed chairs of
richly-carved cedar. Everything was opened to show us; the tombs where the
bishops are buried; the vault where a martyr lies, supposed to have been
miraculously preserved for centuries, the gift of a pope to a bishop of
Puebla. The figure appears to be of wax, enclosing the skeleton of the
martyr, and has the most angelic countenance I ever beheld. It is loaded
with false emeralds and diamonds.
We were also shown the jewels, which they keep buried, in case of a
revolution. The _Custodía_, the gold stand in which they carry the Host, is
entirely encrusted with large diamonds, pearls, emeralds, amethysts,
topazes, and rubies. The chalices are equally rich. There are four sets of
jewels for the bishop. One of his crosses is of emeralds and diamonds;
another of topazes and diamonds, with great rings of the same, belonging to
each.
In the evening we went with the M---- family, who have been very civil to
us, to the theatre, where we saw a comedy better acted and more amusing
than the tragedy which they murdered two nights before. We went early the
next morning to the bishop's palace, to see his fine library and collection
of paintings, where there were a few modern originals and many fine copies
of the old masters. We then went with the Señora H---o, to return the
visits of the ladies who had called on us. The young ladies invariably
complain that they have neither music, nor drawing, nor dancing masters.
There is evidently a great deal of musical taste among them, and, as in
every part of Mexico, town or country, there is a piano (_tal cual_) in
every house; but most of those who play are self-taught, and naturally
abandon it very soon, for want of instruction or encouragement. We are now
going to dine out, and in the evening we go to a concert in the theatre,
given by the Señora Cesari and Mr. Wallace. As we must rise at three, to
set off by the diligence, I shall write no more from this place. Our next
letters will be from Mexico.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SIXTH
Concert--Diligence--Leave Puebla--Escort--View from the Cathedral
Towers--Black Forest--History of the Crosses--Tales of Murder--An
Alarm--Report of a Skirmish--Rio Frío--Law concerning Robbers--Their
_Moderation_--Return to Mexico--Carnival Ball--Improvement in Dress.
MEXICO, 24th.
We went to the concert with our friends, the H---os. The music was better
than the instruments, and the Señora Cesari looked handsome, as she always
does, besides being beautifully dressed in white, with Paris wreaths. We
took leave of our friends at the door of the hotel, at one in the morning,
and lay down for two hours, in the full expectation of being robbed the
following day, a circumstance which has now grown so common, that when the
diligence from Puebla arrives in safety, it excites rather more sensation
than when it has been stopped. The governor had ordered us an escort to
Mexico, to be stationed about every six leagues, but last week the escort
itself, and even the gallant officer at its head, were suspected of being
the plunderers. Our chief hope lay in that well-known miraculous knowledge
which they possess as to the value of all travellers' luggage, which no
doubt not only makes them aware that we are mere pilgrims for pleasure, and
not fresh arrivals, laden with European commodities, but also renders them
perfectly familiar with the contents of our well-shaken portmanteaus; so
that we trusted that a sarape or two, a few rings and earrings, and one or
two shawls, would not prove sufficient to tempt them. We got into the
diligence in the dark, half asleep, having taken all the places but three,
which were engaged before we came; some sleepy soldiers on horseback, ready
to accompany us, and a loaded gun sticking out of each window. Various
beggars, who are here innumerable, already surrounded us; and it is, by the
way, a remarkable circumstance, that notwithstanding the amazing numbers of
the léperos in Puebla, the churches there are kept scrupulously clean, from
which Mexico might take a hint with advantage.
Puebla is one of the few cities founded by the Spanish colonists, instead
of being built upon the ruins of former greatness. It was founded in the
sixteenth century, on the plains of Acajete, in a site occupied only by a
few huts belonging to the Cholula Indians. It is surrounded by productive
corn estates, and the landscape, when the light visited our eyes, was
fertile though flat. The two finest views of Puebla may be seen from the
towers of the cathedral, and from an azotea in the street of San Agustin.
The landscape is extremely varied and very extensive.
To the north we see the mountain of Tlascala, the _Matlalcueyetl_, better
known as the Malinchi; next it the hill and temple of Guadalupe and the
mountain of the Pinar, crowned by its white church. Other churches and
convents adorn the slopes of the mountains, the Church of Loreto, the
Temple of Calvary, etc. The Malinchi is fertile, but these inferior
mountains are sterile and bare.
To the south lie the great volcanoes, and between them we can distinguish
the difficult and steep road by which Cortes undertook his first march to
Mexico. We also see the city and pyramid of Cholula, the hill of San
Nicolas, and that of San Juan, where General Bustamante encamped in 1832,
when he went out against Santa Anna; near it the farm-houses of Posadas and
Zavaleta, one celebrated by a battle, the other by a treaty.
To the east, but at a greater distance than the other mountains, rises the
Peak of Orizava, the Star Mountain; the side now seen, that which rises
over the table land of Mexico; its other side descends rapidly to the
burning plains of Vera Cruz, and is the first distinguishable land
discerned by those who approach these coasts. Even at this distance, its
snowy summit is seen contrasting with its fertile woods and pleasant
villages. It has, what mortals rarely possess united, a warm heart, with a
clear, cold head.
We were awakened at a posada by their bringing us some hot coffee, and a
man with a white nightcap on, having poked his head in at the window, in
defiance of a loaded musket, I concluded he was a lépero, and sleepily told
him I had nothing for him, in the phrase of the country to importunate
beggars; "Perdone V. por Dios!" "Excuse me, for God's sake!"--but he proved
to be a gentleman, who merely came to put himself and his property at our
disposal, at that early hour of the morning.
When we entered the black forest, and passed through the dark pine woods,
then the stories of robbers began, just as people at sea seem to take a
particular pleasure in talking of shipwrecks. Every cross had its tale of
murder, and by the way, it seems to me, that a work written with
_connaissance de cause_, and entitled "History of the Crosses," though it
might not equal the "History of the _Crusades_," would be quite as
interesting, and much more romantic, than the Newgate Calendar. The
difficulty would consist in procuring authentic information concerning
them. There were a lady and two gentlemen in the diligence, and the lady
seemed to be very much _au fait_ as to their purport and history. Under one
her own servant was buried, and she gave rather a graphic account of his
murder. He was sitting outside, on the top of the diligence. The party
within were numerous but unarmed. Suddenly a number of robbers with masks
on came shouting down upon them from amongst the pine trees. They first
took aim at the poor _mozo_, and shot him through the heart. He fell,
calling in piteous tones to a padre who was in the coach, entreating him to
stop and confess him, and groaning out a farewell to his friend the driver.
Mortal fear prevailed over charity both in priest and layman, and the
coachman, whipping up his horses, passed at full gallop over the body of
the murdered man, so that, the robbers being on foot, the remainder of the
party escaped.
Whilst we were listening to tales of blood and murder, our escort took
leave of us, supposing that we should meet another immediately, whereas we
found that we had arrived at the most dangerous part of the road, and that
no soldiers were in sight. We certainly made up our minds to an attack this
time, and got ready our rings and watches, not to hide, but to give, for we
womenkind were clearly of opinion, that in case of an attack, it was much
better to attempt no defence, our party having only two guns amongst them.
There was a diligence some way behind us, full of people, and belonging to
another line; driven by a Yankee coachman, so drunk that he kept his seat
with difficulty, and, in defiance of all remonstrances, persisted in
driving the coach at a gallop close by the brink of the great precipice
along which the road wound; so that the poor passengers were exposed to a
double danger.
Suddenly our escort appeared at the top of the hill, and the officer,
riding up, excused himself to C---n for the delay, which had arisen from
their having been engaged in a skirmish with the robbers in that very
place. Two he said were taken, and he had marched them off to Puebla, where
they will probably be let off in a few days, after a form of trial. Four
had escaped, and had hid themselves amongst the trees and rocks, but could
not, according to his calculations, be very far off. However, we were quite
reassured by the arrival of the soldiers, and the sight of Rio Frío was
very reviving. We got a very tolerable dinner from the Bordelaise in the
forest-valley; and although the next part of the road is reckoned very
insecure, we had no longer any apprehension, as besides having an escort,
the fact that some of the robbers had been taken a few hours before, made
it very unlikely that they would renew their attempts that day.
This pestilence of robbers, which infests the republic, has never been
eradicated. They are in fact the growth of civil war. Sometimes in the
guise of insurgents, taking an active part in the independence, they have
independently laid waste the country, and robbed all whom they met. As
expellers of the Spaniards, these armed bands infested the roads between
Vera Cruz and the capital, ruined all commerce, and without any particular
inquiry into political opinions, robbed and murdered in all directions. In
1824 a law was proposed in congress, which should subject all armed bands
of robbers to military judges, in order to shorten proceedings, for many of
those who had been apprehended and thrown into prison, found some
opportunity to escape, while their trial was pending, and many had been
imprisoned four or five times for the same offence, yet never brought to
justice. In this law were included both robbers by profession and those
bodies of insurgents who were merely extempore amateurs.
But whatever measures have been taken at different times to eradicate this
evil, its causes remain, and the idle and unprincipled will always take
advantage of the disorganized state of the country, to obtain by force what
they might gain by honest labour. Count ----- says gravely, that he cannot
imagine why we complain of Mexican robbers, when the city of London is full
of organized gangs of ruffians, whom the laws cannot reach; and when
English highwaymen and housebreakers are the most celebrated in the world.
Moreover, that Mexican robbers are never unnecessarily cruel, and in fact
are very easily moved to compassion. This last assertion may, occasionally
hold good, but their cruelties to travellers are too well known to bear him
out in it as a general remark.
As a proof of their occasional moderation, I may mention, that the ladies
of the F---a family, at the time of their emigration, were travelling from
Mexico with a _padre_, when they were met by a party of robbers or
insurgents, who stopped the coach, and commenced pillaging. Amongst other
articles of value, they seized a number of silver dishes. The padre
observed to them, that as this plate did not belong to the ladies, but was
lent them by a friend, they would be obliged to replace it, and requested
that one might be left as a pattern. The reasonable creatures instantly
returned a dish and cover!
Another time, having completely stripped an English gentleman and his
servant, and tied them both to a tree, observing that the man appeared
particularly distressed at the loss of his master's spurs, they politely
returned and laid the spurs beside the gentleman.
About four o'clock, though nearly blinded with dust, we once more looked
down upon the valley of Mexico, and at five, during our last change of
horses, we were met by Don M---l del C---o and the English courier Beraza,
who had ridden out to meet us, and accompanied us on their fine horses as
far as the Garita. Here we found our carriage waiting; got in and drove
through Mexico, dusty as we were, and warlike as we seemed, with guns at
the windows. In the Calle San Francisco, the carriage was stopped by
Mr. -----, Secretary to the English Legation, who invited us to a grand
masked and fancy carnival ball to be given on Monday, it being now
Saturday. On our return home, we found everything in good order. Had some
difficulty in procuring ball-dresses in time.
On Sunday we had a number of people to dinner, by chance, it being Spanish
fashion to dine at a friend's house without invitation. This evening we go
to the ball.
26th.--The ball was in the theatre, and very brilliant, but too many of
the first people on these occasions keep their boxes, and do not dance; yet
it was wonderfully select for so large an assembly. When we arrived, we
were led upstairs by some of the commissioners, those who had charge of the
ball, to the E----'s box, whom we found, as usual, elegantly dressed--the
married ladies of the family with diamonds, the younger ones in white crape
and gold. I had a black silk mask, but finding myself universally
recognized, saw no particular advantage in keeping it on, and promptly
discarded it. We took a few turns in the ball-room, and afterwards returned
to the box. There were some capital figures in masks, and some beautiful
ball-dresses, and though there were a number of dominoes and odd figures, I
could not help remarking the great improvement in toilet which had taken
place since the fancy ball of last year. One or two girls, especially the
Señorita M----, wore ball-dresses which could only have proceeded from the
fingers of a Parisian modiste. Madame de -----, dressed as a peasant, and
with a mask, was known everywhere by her small foot and pretty figure. But
it is impossible to look on at a ball very long, not mingling with it,
without growing tired; and not even the numerous visitors to our box could
prevent us from feeling much more sleepy than during many a moonlight ride
through the lovely lanes of _tierra caliente_.
Next night there was a public masked ball, but we did not attend it. We
feel much the better for our journey, and only hope that some day C---n may
have leisure sufficient to enable us to take another ride through some
other part of the country. This being near Lent, we shall have no _soirées_
for six weeks, though balls are occasionally given during that time of
fasting. The house has become very comfortable in the way of servants; our
housekeeper a treasure, the coachman and footman excellent, the cook
tolerable, the soldiers rarely tipsy more than once a week, and generally
only one at a time, the others decent--so that we have nothing to complain
of ----- has established a hen-house near the stable, and any old Indian
woman who brings her a _manojo_ (several hens tied together) is sure to be
received with open arms.
One of our first visits on our return was to Tacubaya, where we were sorry
to find the Countess C---a very much indisposed, and her courtyard filled
with carriages, containing visitors making inquiries. I shall now send off
my letters by the packet, that you may see we are safely re-established in
Mexico.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH
Distinguished Men-Generals Bustamante, Santa Anna, and
Victoria--Anecdote--Señor Pedraza--Señor Gutierrez Estrada--Count
Cortina--Señor Gorostiza--Don Carlos Bustamante--"Mornings in the
Alameda"--Don Andrés Quintana Roo--Don Lucas Alaman--General
Moran--General Almonte--Señor Canedo--Señors Neri del Barrio and
Casaflores--Doctor Valentin--Don Francisco Tagle--Eight Revolutions.
27th.
H---- in his last letter asks what distinguished men we have in Mexico? and
with a tone of doubt as to their being very numerous. Distinguished in what
way? As generals, as statesmen, as men of literature? It seems to me that a
country where we have known Bustamante, Santa Anna, General Victoria,
Posada, Gomez Pedraza, Gutierrez Estrada, Count Cortina, Gorostiza, Don
Carlos Bustamante, Quintana Roo, General Moran, Don Lucas Alaman, General
Almonte, Señor Canedo, Don Francisco Tagle, Señor Neri del Barrio, Señor
Fagoaga, Don José Valentin, the Count de Casaflores, etc., etc., is not so
destitute of distinguished men as he supposes. The preceding are, I
confess, strung together as they occur to me, without order or regularity;
soldiers, statesmen, and literary men, some on one side of politics, some
on another, but all men of note, and men who have acted, or suffered, or
been distinguished in one way or another in the revolutions of the last
thirty-two years. And there is not one amongst those I have mentioned, who,
if he were to write merely his personal history, would not by so doing
write the history of these civil wars. The three first, as principal
figures in every revolution, are already historical; Bustamante as an
honest man and a brave soldier; Santa Anna as an acute general, active and
aspiring, whose name has a _prestige_, whether for good or for evil, that
no other possesses; General Victoria, a plain, uneducated, well-intentioned
man, brave and enduring. A passage in his life is well known, which ought
to be mentioned as an offset to the doubtful anecdote of the two-headed
eagle. When Yturbide, alone, fallen and a prisoner, was banished from
Mexico, and when General Bravo, who had the charge of conducting him to
Vera Cruz, treated him with every species of indignity, Victoria, the sworn
foe of the emperor during his prosperity, now, when orders were given him
to see Yturbide embarked, surrounded him with attentions, and loaded him
with respectful distinctions; so that Yturbide himself, moved with
gratitude, after expressing his warm esteem for the General's consistent
conduct, presented him with his watch as a memorial of his grateful
admiration.
As for Don Manuel Gomez Pedraza, he has occupied too distinguished a place
in the political occurrences of this country, not to be generally known. An
officer in the time of the Spanish government, he was distinguished for his
severe discipline and strict moral conduct. In the time of Yturbide he was
military commandant of Huasteca, and supported the emperor, who afterwards
made him commander-general of Mexico. In 1827 he was Minister of war,
during the presidency of Victoria, and was distinguished for his
extraordinary activity, which quality was greatly wanting in that general.
In 1828 he and Guerrero were announced as candidates for the presidency,
and after a terrible political tempest, Gomez Pedraza was elected. The
fermentation that succeeded, the fury of the two parties, the
_Guerreristas_ and _Pedrazistas_, which were mingled with _Yturbidistas_,
was increased by the arrival of Santa Anna at Perote with eight hundred
men, who, having shut himself up in the fortress, declared for Guerrero,
and published a manifesto, which set forth that general as a hero, and his
rival as a hypocrite. Then came the famous revolution of the _Acordada_,
and both Pedraza and Guerrero disappeared. Pedraza left the Republic, and
after another revolution, hearing that "the constitution and laws were
re-established," returned to Vera Cruz; but was met by an order which
prohibited him from disembarking. He then set sail for New Orleans. Another
change brought him back; and at this present juncture he lives in
tranquillity, together with his lady, a person of extraordinary talent and
learning, daughter of the Lizenciado (jurisconsult) Señor Azcarate. Such
are the disturbed lives passed by the "children of the soil."
Of Gutierrez Estrada, now far from his household gods, and languishing
under unjust persecution, I have already spoken. Count Cortina is a
gentleman and a scholar, a man of vast information, and a protector of the
fine arts. His conversation is a series of electric sparks; brilliant as an
ignis fatuus, and bewildering as a will-o'-the-wisp. I have seldom heard
such eloquence even in trifles; and he writes with as much ease as he
speaks. We have seen three clever pieces of his lately, showing his
versatile genius; one upon earthquakes, one upon the _devil_, and one upon
the holy fathers of the church!--the first in the form of a pamphlet,
addressed to a lady, giving a scientific explanation of the causes of these
phenomena, interspersed with compliments to her _beaux yeux_; the second is
a burlesque poem; and the third a grave and learned dissertation.
Don José Eduardo Gorostiza, though a native of Vera Cruz, is the son of a
Spanish officer, and when very young went to Spain, where he was known
politically as a liberal. He was distinguished as a writer of theatrical
pieces, which have been and still are very popular; and those which he
merely translated, he had the merit of adapting to the Spanish stage, and
_Castilianizing_ in grace and wit. One of his pieces, which we saw the
other evening at the theatre--"_Con tigo, pan y cebolla_," (With thee,
bread and onions,) is delightful. Besides occupying a place in the Cabinet
of Mexico, he has been Charge d'Affaires in Holland, and Minister at the
Court of St. James. In conversation he is extremely witty and agreeable,
and he has collected some good paintings and valuable books in the course
of his European travels.
The reputation of Don Carlos Bustamante, deputy from Oajaca, is altogether
literary. He has made many researches in Mexican antiquities; and has
published a history of the "Discovery of America," written by Padre Vega,
which was unknown before; also the "Gallery of Mexican Princes;" "Tezcoco
in the last Days of its last Kings," etc. He lately sent me his "Mornings
in the Alameda," a book intended to teach Mexican young ladies the history
of their own country. I have read but a few pages of it, but was struck
with the liberality of his remarks in regard to the Spaniards, which,
coming from such a source, are so much more valuable and worthy of credit
than any that can be made by a foreigner, that I am tempted to translate
the passage to which I allude. "The Spanish government founded colleges and
academies in the reign of the wise Charles the Third; it established that
of fine arts, which it enriched with the most beautiful statues, which you
can still see when you visit it. ("Their transportation," he says in a
note, "cost seventy thousand dollars.") He sent excellent workmen, and
imitated his predecessor Philip the Second, who sent to Mexico whatever
could not find a place in the works of the Escurial. Of his wisdom, we have
proofs in those magnificent temples which attract the attention of
travellers, such as the Cathedral of Mexico, San Agustin, Santo Domingo of
Oaxaca, and others. Spain did no more, because she could do no more, and
Spain gave to this America a constitution, which the Mexicans themselves,
who pride themselves most on their learning, are unacquainted with; and
whose analysis was formed by the learned Padre Mier, in the History of the
Revolution, which he printed in London; a constitution, in which are made
manifest the good intentions of the Austrian monarchs; and their earnest
desire to render the Indians happy; especially in the case of the great
Philip the Fourth, whose autograph law is preserved; and which I have read
with respect and emotion, prohibiting the bad treatment of the Indians. In
short, this America, if it were considered in a state of slavery under the
Spanish dominion, was at least on a level with the peninsula itself. Read
over the frightful list of taxes which oppressed the Spaniards, and compare
it with those that were imposed upon us, and you will find that theirs is
infinitely greater than ours. These truths being granted, remark the
progress which the colonies had made in sciences and arts, and this truth
which escaped from the light pen of the censor Beristain, will be
confirmed. Mexico, he says, was the sunflower of Spain. When in her
principal universities there were no learned men to fill the mathematical
chairs, Mexico could boast of Don Carlos de Siguenza y Góngora: when in
Madrid there was no one who had written a good epic poem, in Mexico the
_Bernardo_ was composed;" etc., etc.
The next on my list is Don Andrés Quintana Roo, the best modern poet of
Mexico, a native of Yucatan, and who came to the capital when very young,
to study law. He is said to possess immense learning, and was enthusiastic
to fanaticism in the cause of independence; insomuch that he and his wife,
Doña Leona Vicario, who shared in his ardent love of liberty, braved every
danger in its cause, suffered imprisonment, escaped from the Inquisition,
from the hands of robbers, endured every privation, so that their history
would form a romance. He is now devoted to literature, and though he
occasionally launches forth some political pamphlet, he is probably weaned
of revolutions, and possesses all the calmness of a man whose first years
have been spent in excitement and troubles, and who at length finds
consolation in study alone; the well of science proving to him the waters
of Lethe, in which he drinks the oblivion of all his past sorrows. And it
is very much the case in Mexico at present, that the most distinguished men
are those who live most retired; those who have played their part on the
arena of public life, have seen the inutility of their efforts in favour of
their country, and have now retreated into the bosom of their families,
where they endeavour to forget public evils in domestic retirement and
literary occupation.
Amongst these may be reckoned Don Lucas Alaman, who passed many years in
Europe, and in 1820 was deputy to the Spanish Cortes. Shortly after his
return he became Minister of foreign relations, which high office he has
filled during various seasons of difficulty.[1] He is a man of learning,
and has always been a protector of art and science. In conversation he is
more reserved, less brilliant, and more minute than Count Cortina, always
expressing his opinion with caution, but very ready and able to give
information on anything in this country, unconnected with politics. General
Moran, now infirm, and long since retired from public service, is
universally respected, both as a military man and a gentleman. He is
married to a daughter of the late Marquis de Vivanco, general of division,
who long held out against the independence, and when the colonial system
was dissolved, would never go further than to desire a prince of royal
birth in Mexico. General Moran has been exiled several times, and his
health has not held out against bodily and mental suffering; but he is
ending his days in a tranquil retirement in the midst of his family. Of
General Almonte and of Señor Canedo, who are figuring in public life in our
own day, I have frequently written.
[Footnote 1: He is now, September, 1842, once more filling the same
situation under General Santa Anna.]
Señor Neri del Barrio and the Count de Casaflores, married to sisters,
ladies of high birth, the eldest a countess in her own right, are, as well
as their families, all that is most distinguished in Mexico. Señor Fagoaga,
who is now in bad health, I know only by reputation. He is brother of the
Marquis of Apartado, and of the celebrated Don José María Fagoaga, with
whose family we have the pleasure of being very intimate. C---n says that
he is a man of great taste and a thorough gentleman, and that his house,
which is one of the handsomest in Mexico, possesses that ornament so rare
in this country--well-chosen paintings. Don José Valentin, who has figured
in the political world, and who was curate of Huamautla, is one of the
kindest and best old men I have ever met with; so severe to himself, so
indulgent to others--so simple in worldly matters, so learned in everything
else--so sincere, good, and charitable. He is a universal favourite with
young and old, being cheerful, fond of music, and of gay conversation, in
proportion as he is wise and learned in his observations, and serious in
his conversation when the occasion requires it. Doctor Valentin as an
ecclesiastic, and Padre Leon as a monk, are models.
As for Don Francisco Tagle, he is a gentleman of the old school, and his
name figures in all the political events which have taken place since the
independence, of which he was one of the signers. He is very rich,
possessing, besides a profitable maguey estate near Mexico, enormous
property bounding Texas, and being also the keeper of the Monte Pio,
formerly the house of Cortes, a palace, in which he and his family live. He
is a man of great learning and information, and too distinguished not to
have suffered personally in political convulsions. Whether he would choose
the same path, with his present experience of a Mexican republic, he is too
wise to mention. He and his family are amongst our most intimate friends,
and with a few exceptions all those whom I have mentioned have been here
since our return, which is one of the reasons why their names occurred
first to my memory; for there are still many distinguished persons
remaining.
Nearly all these, at least all who are married, have had the good fortune
to unite themselves with women who are either their equals or superiors, if
not in education,--in goodness, elevation of sentiment, and natural talent.
They, as well as every Mexican, whether man or woman, not under forty, have
lived under the Spanish government; have seen the revolution of Dolores of
1810, with continuations and variations by Morelos, and paralyzation in
1819; the revolution of Yturbide in 1821; the cry of Liberty (grito de
Libertad) given by those generals "benemeritos de la patria," Santa Anna
and Victoria, in 1822; the establishment of the federal system in 1824; the
horrible revolution of the Acordada, in which Mexico was pillaged, in 1828;
the adoption of the central system in 1836; and the last revolution of the
federalists in 1840. Another is predicted for next month, as if it were an
eclipse of the sun. In nineteen years three forms of government have been
tried, and two constitutions, the reform of one of which is still pending
in the Chambers. "_Dere is notink like trying!_" (as the old _perruquier_
observed, when he set out in a little boat to catch the royal yacht, still
in sight of Scottish shores, with a new wig of his own invention, which he
had trusted to have been permitted to present to his most gracious majesty
George the Fourth!).
LETTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH
New Minister--San Angel--Profitable Pulque Estate--The Village--Surrounding
Scenery--The Indians--The Padre--The Climate--Holy Week in the
Country--Dramatic Representations--Coyohuacan--The Pharisees--Image of the
Saviour--Music and Dresses--Procession--Catholicism amongst the
Indians--Strange Tradition--Paul the Fifth--Contrast between a Mexican and
a New England Village--Love of Fireworks--Ferdinand the Seventh--Military
Ball--_Drapeaux_.
SAN ANGEL, March 30th.
It is a long while since I last wrote, but this week has been employed in
moving into the country, and making arrangements for the sale of our
furniture, in consequence of our having received official news from Spain
of the nomination of a new envoy extraordinary and Minister plenipotentiary
to the republic of Mexico. As, on account of the yellow fever at Vera Cruz,
we shall not wish to pass through that city later than May, it is necessary
to be in readiness to start when the new Minister arrives. On Thursday last
we came out to this place, within three leagues of Mexico, where Don
Francisco Tagle has kindly lent us his unoccupied country house. As we had
an infinity of arrangements to make, much to bring out, and much to leave,
and _all Mexico_ to see, you will excuse this long silence. Our house in
town we leave to the guardianship of the housekeeper; the other servants
follow us here.
This house is very large, and has a fine garden and orchard full of fruit,
with pretty walks all through it, and a sort of underwood of roses and
sweet peas. It is a great pulque hacienda, and, besides what is sent into
Mexico for sale, the court is constantly filled with the half-naked Indians
from the village, who come to have their _jarros_ filled with that
inspiring beverage. Then there is Doña Barbara (the guardian of the
pulque), a Spanish administrador, a number of good-looking Indian women,
and babies _à discrétion_. There is a small chapel, a piazza, with handsome
pillars going all round the interior courtyard of the house, a
billiard-table, and plenty of good rooms. In front of the house are the
maguey-fields, and the azotea commands a beautiful view of the neighbouring
villages, San Angel, Coyohuacan, Miscuaque, etc., with their woods and
gardens, as well as of the city itself, with its lakes and volcanoes.
As C---n's affairs take him to Mexico nearly every day, we feel a little
lonely in this large house, even though perfectly comfortable; and besides
the extreme stillness and solitude, it is not considered safe for us to
walk out alone; consequently the orchard must bound our wishes. And, of
course, being prohibited from going further, we have the greatest desire to
do so! In the evening, however, when our _caballeros_ return, we frequently
walk down to the village, where the English Minister has also a house.
San Angel is pretty in its own way, with its fields of maguey, its
scattered houses, that look like the _beaux restes_ of better days, its
market-place, parish church, church of El Carmen, with the monastery and
high-walled gardens adjoining; with its narrow lanes, Indian huts,
profusion of pink roses, little bridge and avenue, and scattered clusters
of trees; its houses for _temperamento_ (_constitution_, as they call those
where Mexican families come to reside in summer), with their grated
windows, and gardens and orchards; and then the distant view of Mexico,
with the cathedral towers, volcanoes, and lofty mountains, scattered
churches and long lines of trees; and nearer, the pretty villages of
Coyohuacan and Miscuaque; and everywhere the old church, the broken arch,
the ancient cross, with its faded flower-garlands, to commemorate a murder,
or erected as an act of piety--all is so characteristic of Mexico, that the
landscape could belong to no other part of the known world.
There is the Indian with his blanket, extracting the pulque from the
maguey; the ranchero, with her reboso and broad-brimmed hat passing by upon
her ass; the old lépero, in rags, sitting basking in the sun upon the stone
seat in front of the door; the poor Indian woman, with matted hair and
brown baby hanging behind her, refreshing herself by drinking three
_elacos_ (halfpence) worth of pulque from a _jarrito_ (little earthen jar);
the portly and well-looking padre prior del Carden (the Carmelite friar),
sauntering up the lane at a leisurely pace, all the little ragged boys,
down to the merest urchin that can hardly lisp, dragging off their large,
well-holed hats, with a "_Buenos días, padrecito!_" (Good-morning, little
father!)--the father replying with a benevolent smile, and a slight sound
in his throat intended for a _Benedicite;_ and all that might be dull in
any other climate brightened and made light and gay by the purest
atmosphere, and bluest sky, and softest air, that ever blew or shone upon a
naughty world.
We are now approaching the holy week once more--in Mexico a scene of
variety in the streets and of splendour in the churches; but in the country
a play, a sort of melodrama, in which the sufferings, death, and burial of
our Saviour are represented by living figures in pantomime. We have heard a
great deal of these representations, and are glad to have the opportunity
of seeing them, which we intend to do in the village of Coyohuacan, where
they are particularly curious. Besides this, our friends the A----s have a
house there for the season, and, as the city of Cortes's predilection, it
is classic ground. Meanwhile, for the last few days, the country has been
overrun with Pharisees, Nazarenes, Jews, and figures of the Saviour,
carried about in procession; all this in preparation for the holy week, a
sort of overture to the drama.
The first evening we arrived here there was a representation of the
Pharisees searching for Christ. The Pharisees were very finely dressed,
either in scarlet stuff and gold or in green and silver, with helmets and
feathers, mounted upon horses which are taught to dance and rear to the
sound of music, so that upon the whole they looked like performers at
Astley's. They came on with music, riding up the lanes until they arrived
in front of this house, which being the principal place hereabouts, they
came to first, and where the Indian workmen and servants were all collected
to see them. They rode about for some time, as if in search of Christ,
until a full-length figure of the Saviour appeared, dressed in purple
robes, carried on a platform by four men, and guarded on all sides by
soldiers. It is singular, that after all there is nothing ridiculous in
these exhibitions; on the contrary, something rather terrible. In the first
place, the music is good, which would hardly be the case in any but a
Mexican village; the dresses are really rich, the gold all real, and the
whole has the effect of confusing the imagination into the belief of its
being a true scene.
The next evening the same procession passed, with some additions, always
accompanied by a crowd of Indians from the villages, men, women, and
children. Bonfires were made before the door of the hacienda, which were
lighted whenever the distant music was heard approaching, and all the
figures in the procession carried lighted lamps. The Saviour was then led
up to the door, and all the crowd went up to kiss his feet. The figure
which is carried about this evening is called "Our Saviour of the Column,"
and represents the Saviour tied to a pillar, bleeding, and crowned with
thorns. All this must sound very profane, but the people are so quiet, seem
so devout, and so much in earnest, that it appears much less so than you
would believe....
The cross was planted here in a congenial soil, and as in the Pagan East
the statues of the divinities frequently did no more than change their
names from those of heathen gods to those of Christian saints, and
image-worship apparently continued, though the mind of the Christian was
directed from the being represented to the true and only God who inhabits
eternity, so here the poor Indian still bows before visible representations
of saints and virgins, as he did in former days before the monstrous shapes
representing the unseen powers of the air, the earth, and the water; but
he, it is to be feared, lifts his thoughts no higher than the rude image
which a rude hand has carved. The mysteries of Christianity, to affect his
untutored mind, must be visibly represented to his eyes. He kneels before
the bleeding image of the Saviour who died for him, before the gracious
form of the Virgin who intercedes for him; but he believes that there are
many Virgins, of various gifts, and possessing various degrees of
miraculous power and different degrees of wealth, according to the quality
and number of the diamonds and pearls with which they are endowed--one even
who is the rival of the other--one who will bring rain when there is
drought, and one to whom it is well to pray in seasons of inundation.
Mexico owes much of its peculiar beauty to the religious or superstitious
feelings of its inhabitants. At every step we see a white cross gleaming
amongst the trees, in a solitary path, or on the top of some rugged and
barren rock--a symbol of faith in the desert place; and wherever the
footsteps of man have rested, and some three or four have gathered
together, there, while the ruined huts proclaim the poverty of the inmates,
the temple of God rises in comparative splendour.
It is strange, yet well authenticated, and has given rise to many theories,
that the symbol of the cross was already known to the Indians before the
arrival of Cortes. In the island of Cozumel, near Yucatan, there were
several; and in Yucatan itself, there was a stone cross; and there, an
Indian, considered a prophet among his countrymen, had declared that a
nation bearing the same as a symbol, should arrive from a distant country!
More extraordinary still was a temple dedicated to the Holy Cross by the
Toltec nation in the city of Cholula. Near Tulansingo also, there is a
cross engraved on a rock, with various characters, which the Indians by
tradition attribute to the apostle Saint Thomas. In Oajaca also there
existed a cross which the Indians from time immemorial had been accustomed
to consider as a divine symbol. By order of the Bishop Cervantes, it was
placed in a sumptuous chapel in the cathedral. Information concerning its
discovery, together with a small cross cut out of its wood, was sent to
Rome to Paul the Fifth, who received it on his knees, singing the hymn,
"_Vexilla Regis prodeunt_," etc.
If any one wishes to try the effect of strong contrast, let him come direct
from the United States to this country; but it is in the villages
especially that the contrast is most striking. Travelling in New England,
for example, we arrive at a small and flourishing village. We see four new
churches, proclaiming four different sects; religion suited to all
customers. These wooden churches or meeting-houses are all new, all painted
white, or perhaps a bright red. Hard by is a tavern with a green paling, as
clean and as new as the churches, and there are also various smart _stores_
and neat dwelling-houses; all new, all wooden, all clean, and all
ornamented with slight Grecian pillars. The whole has a cheerful, trim, and
flourishing aspect. Houses, churches, stores, and taverns, all are of a
piece. They are suited to the present emergency, whatever that may be,
though they will never make fine ruins. Everything proclaims prosperity,
equality, consistency; the past forgotten, the present all in all, and the
future taking care of itself. No delicate attentions to posterity, who can
never pay its debts. No beggars. If a man has even a hole in his coat, he
must be lately from the Emerald Isle.
Transport yourself in imagination from this New England village to that
of -----, it matters not which, not far from Mexico. "Look on this picture,
and on that." The Indian huts, with their half-naked inmates, and little
gardens full of flowers; the huts themselves either built of clay, or the
half-ruined _beaux restes_ of some stone building. At a little distance an
hacienda, like a deserted palace, built of solid masonry, with its inner
_patio_ surrounded by thick stone pillars, with great walls and
iron-barred windows that might stand a siege. Here a ruined arch and
cross, so solidly built, that one cannot but wonder how the stones ever
crumbled away. There, rising in the midst of old faithful-looking trees,
the church, gray and ancient, but strong as if designed for eternity; with
its saints and virgins, and martyrs and relics, its gold and silver and
precious stones, whose value would buy up all the spare lots in the New
England village; the lépero with scarce a rag to cover him, kneeling on
that marble pavement. Leave the enclosure of the church, observe the stone
wall that bounds the road for more than a mile; the fruit trees overtopping
it, high though it be, with their loaded branches. This is the convent
orchard. And that great Gothic pile of building, that stands in hoary
majesty, surmounted by the lofty mountains, whose cloud-enveloped summits,
tinged by the evening sun, rise behind it; what could so noble a building
be but the monastery, perhaps of the Carmelites, because of its exceeding
rich garden, and well-chosen site, for they, of all monks, are richest in
this world's goods. Also we may see the reverend old prior riding slowly
from under the arched gate up the village lanes, the Indians coming from
their huts to do him lowly reverence as he passes. Here, everything reminds
us of the past; of the conquering Spaniards, who seemed to build for
eternity; impressing each work with their own solid, grave, and religious
character; of the triumphs of catholicism; and of the Indians when Cortes
first startled them from their repose, and stood before them like the
fulfilment of a half-forgotten prophecy. It is the present that seems like
a dream, a pale reflection of the past. All is decaying and growing
fainter, and men seem trusting to some unknown future which they may never
see. One government has been abandoned, and there is none in its place. One
revolution follows another, yet the remedy is not found. Let them beware
lest half a century later, they be awakened from their delusion, and find
the cathedral turned into a meeting-house, and all painted white; the
_railing_ melted down; the silver transformed into dollars; the Virgin's
jewels sold to the highest bidder; the floor washed (which would do it no
harm), and round the whole, a nice new wooden paling, freshly done in
green--and all this performed by some of the artists from the _wide-awake_
republic farther north.
Just as I wrote these words, a shower of crackers startled me from the
profane ideas in which I was indulging, and the prancing of the horses of
Jews and Pharisees, and the crackling of bonfires, warn me that it is time
to take an evening stroll, that the sun is down, and the air refreshing.
However, as to crackers and rockets, the common people enjoy them by day as
much as by night. It is their favourite method of commemorating any event,
evil or religious. "What do you suppose the Mexicans will be doing now?"
said King Ferdinand to a Mexican who was at the Spanish court, shortly
after the final success of the Revolutionists. "Letting off rockets, your
Majesty," answered the Mexican. "Well--I wonder what they are doing now in
Mexico!" said the King in the afternoon. "_Tirando cohetes_--letting off
rockets, your Majesty." His Majesty chose to repeat the question in the
evening. "What will your countrymen be doing now?" "The same thing, your
Majesty. Still letting off rockets."
Yesterday we drove into Mexico, to see how matters stood in our house, and
received a number of visitors in our deserted apartments. Just before we
left Mexico for this place, three very magnificent aides-de-camp brought us
an invitation from General Valencia, to attend a ball to be given by him
and other officers, in the theatre, to the president, on the occasion of
his excellency's being declared "benemerito de la patria." We did not go,
as we were setting off for the country, but C---n being requested, as were
the other Ministers, to send the colours of his nation, did so, and to-day
there is much talk in Mexico, besides a paragraph in the newspapers,
connected with these matters. It appears that the _drapeaux_ whether by
accident or design, were improperly placed, and these faults in etiquette
are not uncommon here. The English Minister having observed that his
_drapeau_ was placed in a subordinate rank, and finding that his warnings
beforehand on the subject, and his representations on seeing it were
neglected, cut it down and left the ballroom, followed by all the English
who were there.
LETTER THE THIRTY-NINTH
Holy Thursday at Coyohuacan--Hernan Cortes--His Last Wishes--_Padres
Camilos_--Old Church--Procession--Representation of the taking of
Christ--Curate's Sermon under the Trees--A Religious Drama--Good
Friday--Portable Pulpit--Heat--Booths--Religious Procession--Simon the
Cyrenian--Coutumes--Curate's Sermon--Second Discourse--Sentence Pronounced
by Pontius Pilate--Descent from the Cross--Procession of the
Angels--Funeral Hymn--The _Pesame_ to the Virgin--Sermon--"Sweet Kitty
Clover"--Music in Mexico--Anecdote.
On Holy Thursday we went early in the morning to Coyohuacan (now pronounced
Cuyacan), which is almost a continuation of the village of San Angel; but
there are more trees in it, and every house has its garden, or at least its
inner court, filled with orange-trees. Here, after the total destruction of
the ancient Tenochtitlan, Cortes took up his residence for several months.
Here he founded a convent of nuns, and in his testament he desired to be
buried in this convent, "in whatever part of the world I may finish my
days." The conqueror's last wishes in this respect were not held sacred. At
the time of the conquest, Coyohuacan, together with Tacubaya, etc., stood
upon the margin of the Lake of Tezcuco; most of the houses built within the
water upon stakes, so that the canoes entered by a low door. This was
undoubtedly the favourite retreat of Cortes, and it is now one of the
prettiest villages near Mexico. Its church is wonderfully handsome; one of
the finest village churches we have yet seen.
One of the prettiest places in the village belongs to an order of monks
called the _Padres Camilos_. It consists of a house and garden, where the
monks go by turns to enjoy the country air. Comfortable padres! There is
one room looking into the garden, and opening into a walk bordered by rose-
bushes, which is such a place for a siesta; cool, retired, fragrant. A
hammock with a mattress on it is slung across the room, and here the good
padre may lie, with one eye opened to the roses, and the other closed in
inward meditation. However, its whole merit consists in being cleanly and
neatly kept, for it is a large, empty house, and the garden, so called, is
little more than a pasture-field, with nice gravel-walks cut through it,
bordered with fine rose-bushes, and beautified by a clear fountain.
We went to the A----'s house, which is halfway between San Angel and
Coyohuacan; the Señora A---- driving me herself in an open carratella with
white _frisones_ (northern horses), which, compared with the spirited
little Mexican steeds, look gigantic. We went first to see the church,
which was brilliantly illuminated, and ornamented with loads of flowers and
fruit (especially oranges), and thronged with ragged _lepéros_ and
blanketed Indians. We then set off, to endeavour, if possible, to find a
place in the crowd, who had hurried off to see _el prendimiento_ (the
taking of Christ), and to hear the Curate preach an appropriate sermon in a
portable pulpit, amongst the trees.
We made our way through the patient, bronzed and blanketed crowd, not
without sundry misgivings as to the effects of _evil communication_; and at
length reached the procession, all ranged on the grass under the trees, in
a pretty and secluded little grove; in two long rows fronting each other;
each person carrying a lamp surmounted by a plume of coloured feathers,
very ingeniously made of coloured spun glass. They were all dressed in the
costume of Pharisees, Jews, Romans, etc. The image of the Saviour was
shortly after carried through on a platform, to the sound of music,
followed by the eleven disciples, and was placed in a kind of bower amongst
the trees, supposed to give a representation of the garden of Gethsemane. A
portable pulpit, covered with shining stuff, was carried in, and placed
beneath a tree just outside of this enclosure, and soon after, the curate
arrived, and mounted into his place. A number of little ragged boys, who
had climbed up on the very topmost branches of the trees, to have a good
view, were _piked_ down with lances by the Jews, notwithstanding their
seemingly just remonstrances that they were doing no harm; but when the
Jews observed in answer to their "Que hacemos?" "What are we doing?"--"The
Señor Cura will be angry;"--they tumbled down one on the top of the other
like ripe apples, and then stood watching for the first convenient
opportunity of slipping up again.
The curate began his sermon by an account of the sufferings and persecution
of Christ; of the causes and effects of his death; of the sinfulness of the
Jews, etc. He talked for about half an hour, and his sermon was simple
enough and adapted to his audience. He described the agony of Christ when
in the garden to which he often resorted with his disciples, and the
treachery of Judas who knew the place, and who "_having received a band of
men and officers from the chief priests and pharisees, cometh thither with
lanterns and torches and weapons_." As he went on describing the
circumstances minutely, one who represented the spy, with a horrible mask
like a pig's face, was seen looking through the trees where the Saviour was
concealed; and shortly after, Judas, his face covered with a black crape,
and followed by a band of soldiers, glided through stealthily. "Now," said
the curate, "observe what the traitor does. He hath given them a sign,
saying, '_Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he--hold him fast_.' He
goes--he approaches the sacred person of the Lord." Here Judas went forward
and embraced the Saviour. "It is done!" cried the preacher. "The horrible
act of treachery is completed. _And forth-with he came to Jesús, and said,
Hail, Master, and kissed him. But now, Jesús knowing all things that should
come upon him, went forth and said unto them, Whom seek ye? They answered
him, Jesús of Nazareth. Jesús saith unto them, I am he_." As the curate
said these words, they all fell prostrate on the ground. "Mark," cried he,
"the power of the Word! They came out to take him with swords and with
staves, but at the sound of the Divine Word, they acknowledge the power of
God, and fall at his feet. But it is only for a moment. Behold, now they
bind him, they buffet him, they smite him with the palms of their hands,
they lead him away to the high priest."
All this was enacted in succession, though sometimes the curate was obliged
to repeat the same things several times before they recollected what to do.
"And already, in anticipation of the iniquitous sentence, behold what is
written." This alluded to a paper fastened upon a pole, which a man held
above the heads of the crowd, and on which was written, "Jesús of Nazareth,
King of the Jews, condemned to death by Pontius Pilate, President of Upper
Galilee."
And now, escorted by Judas and the multitude, the Saviour was borne through
the crowd, in conclusion of the _prendimiento._ The curate wound up his
discourse by an exhortation to abstain from sin, which had been the cause
of this awful event. I regret to state that at this very moment, a man
poked his hand into A----'s pocket, who turned very sharply round, and
asked him what he wanted; "Nada, Señorito," (Nothing, sir,) said he, with
an innocent smile, showing two rows of teeth like an ivory railing, but at
the same time disappearing pretty swiftly amongst the crowd, who now all
began to move, and to follow the procession, the band striking up a
_galope._ In the evening we returned to San Angel, and visited the lighted
churches there. As it was late when we entered the _parroquia_ (parish
church), the lights were nearly all extinguished, and a few alone of the
devout were still kneeling before a figure of our Saviour in chains....
On Good Friday we set off early for Coyohuacan, though rather afraid of the
sun, which at present, in the middle of the day, is insupportable, and even
by ten o'clock disagreeable. The whole enclosure round the church, and to a
great distance beyond it, was covered with people, and there were even a
few carriages full of well-dressed persons, who had come from the different
neighbouring haciendas; amongst others, the family of the Marquesa de
Vivanco. The padre Yturalde, who has some reputation for eloquence, was
expected to preach three sermons at Coyohuacan that day, besides one in the
village of Mizcuaque. We found that one sermon was just concluded. By the
time we arrived the sun was pouring down his beams like molten lead. Our
carriage was open, and under every tree was a crowd, so there were small
hopes of finding shade. Women were selling fruit; and booths with ices and
_chia_ were erected all down the lane leading from the church. At last,
however, a little room was made, and seats were placed for us close to the
pulpit, and under a tree.
The image of the Saviour was now carried forwards on a platform, with the
heavy cross appearing to weigh him down; and on the same platform was
Simon, the Cyrenian, assisting him to bear the weight. The Cyrenian was
represented by an old man, with hair white as snow, dressed in scarlet
cloth; who, in a stooping posture, and without once moving his body, was
carried about for hours in the whole force of the sun, the rays pouring
down upon his uncovered head. For a long while we had believed him to be a
wooden figure dressed up, and when he came near he greatly excited our
surprise and compassion. If he survives this day's work it will be a
miracle. I can now almost give faith to -----'s assertion, that in some of
the villages the man who represents Judas actually hangs himself, or is
hanged upon a tree! The Saviour was dressed in crimson velvet, with the
crown of thorns; and a figure of the Virgin, in deep mourning, was carried
after him by Indian women.
The procession consisted of the same men on horseback as we had seen on
foot the preceding day; of the Spy, the Pharisees, the Jews, the Betrayer,
and the mob. Some had helmets and feathers, and armour. Some wore wreaths
of green and gold leaves. One very good-looking man, with long curls and a
gold crown, and a splendid mantle of scarlet and gold, was intended for a
Roman. By his crown he probably meant to personify the Roman Caesar. The
sermon, or rather the discourse of the padre, was very good, and appeared
to be extempore. He made an address to the Virgin, who was carried by and
led up to the pulpit, and another to the Saviour, during which time the
audience was breathlessly attentive, notwithstanding the crying of children
and the barking of dogs. It was supposed that they were now leading Christ
before the judgment-seat of Pilate, and the next scene was to be the
delivery of the sentence.
When the curate's discourse was finished, the procession went on; the
Indian women began to sell their nuts and oranges, and the band struck up
an air in the distance, to which, when last I heard it, Ducrow's horses
were dancing! We, in a fiery sun, which made its way through our mantillas,
now proceeded to search for a convenient place from which to hear the
padre's next sermon, and to see the next scene in the sacred drama. The
padre, who was walking under the shade of a lilac silk parasol, insisted
upon resigning it to me. The Señora ----- did not seem to feel the heat at
all. At last, in order to avoid the crowd, we got up on the low azotea of a
house, beside which the pulpit was placed; but here the sun was
overwhelming. The padre's sermon was really eloquent in some passages, but
lasted nearly an hour, during which time we admired the fortitude of the
unhappy Cyrenian, who was performing a penance of no ordinary kind. The sun
darted down perpendicularly on the back of his exposed head, which he kept
bent downwards, maintaining the same posture the whole time, without
flinching or moving. Before the sermon was over we could stand the heat no
longer, and went in under cover. I felt as if my brains were melted into a
hot jelly. We emerged upon hearing that the procession was again moving
towards the pulpit, where it shortly after formed itself into two lines. In
a few moments a man with a plumed helmet, mounted on a fiery horse,
galloped furiously through the ranks, holding a paper on the point of his
lance, the sentence pronounced by Pontius Pilate.
Arrived at the pulpit, he handed it up to the priest, who received it with
a look of horror, opened it, tried to read it, and threw it on the ground
with an air of indignation. The messenger galloped back more furiously than
he came, and his horse bolting at the end of the lines, occasioned a laugh
amongst the spectators. Then followed the parting address to the Saviour,
whose bearers now brought him up to the pulpit, followed by the mournful
figure of the Virgin. Reflections on the event concluded this act.
We returned in the afternoon, to see the descent from the cross, which was
to be performed within the church. The church was crowded, and a black
curtain hung before the altar. The padre now recapitulated all that had
taken place, and described the Saviour's parting with his mother at the
foot of the cross, addressing the Virgin who stood in her sable robes not
far from the altar, and interrupting his sermon to pray for her
intercession with her Divine Son. I observed all the women in tears as he
described the Virgin's grief, the torments of the crucifixion, the
indignities that the Saviour had suffered. All at once he exclaimed in a
loud voice, "Draw back the veil, and let us behold him!" The curtain was
drawn, and the Saviour crucified appeared. Then the sobs of the women broke
forth. They clasped their hands, beat their breasts and groaned, while the
soldiers who stood below the cross clashed their swords, and one of them
struck the body with a lance. At the same time the Virgin bowed her head,
as if in grief. Unfortunately I was near enough to see how this was
effected, which peep behind the scenes greatly diminished the effect.
Then the soldiers mounted a ladder near the crucifix, and took down the
body, to bear it away. As it came by the pulpit, the priest seized the
hands, and showed the marks of the nails, at the same time breaking out
into exclamations of grief. The soldiers stood below, impatiently clashing
their swords; the women sobbed violently; the procession passed on, and we
returned to the A----'s house.
In the evening the "Procession of the Angels" took place. Figures dressed
in silk and gold, with silver wings, were carried by on platforms to the
sound of music. The body of the Saviour lay in a sort of glass hearse,
carried by men chanting a dirge, and followed by the Virgin. This
procession was really pretty, but had an odd, unnatural effect amongst the
fresh green trees, the smell of incense mingling with the fragrance of the
flowers, and the gaudy silk and gold and plumes of feathers gilded by the
soft setting sun, as they flashed along. I climbed up an old stone cross
near the church, and had a good view. Everything looked gaudy when near;
but as the procession wound along under the broken arches and through the
green lanes, and the music came fainter upon the ear, and the beating of
drums and the tolling of bells and the mournful chant were all blended into
one faint and distant harmony, the effect was beautiful. I thought of the
simple service of the Scottish kirk, and of the country-people coming out
after the sermon, with their best Sunday gowns on, and their serious,
intelligent faces, discussing the merits of their Minister's discourse; and
wondered at the contrasts in the same religion....
As the evening was cool and pleasant we walked through the fields to the
church of La Concepción, where the procession was to pass, and sat down on
the grass till we heard it coming. As the body was carried by, all went on
their knees. At night commenced the _pesame_, or condolence to the Virgin,
in the church. She stood on her shrine, with her head bowed down; and the
hymns and prayers were all addressed to her, while the sermon, preached by
another _cura_, was also in her honour. I plead guilty to having been too
sleepy to take in more than the general tenour of the discourse. The
musicians seemed to be playing "Sweet Kitty Clover," with variations. If
Sweet Kitty Clover is genuine Irish, as who can doubt, how did these
Indians get hold of it? Did Saint Patrick go round from the Emerald Isle by
way of Tipperary? But, if he had, would he not have killed the _alacrans_,
and _chicaclinos_, and _coralillos_, and _vinagrillos_? This requires
consideration.
In the _Ora pro nobis_, we were struck with the fineness of the rustic
voices. But music in this country is a sixth sense. It was but a few days
before leaving Mexico, that, sitting alone at the open window, enjoying the
short twilight, I heard a sound of distant music; many voices singing in
parts, and coming gradually nearer. It sounded beautiful, and exactly in
unison with the hour and the scene. At first I concluded it to be a
religious procession; but it was not a hymn--the air was gayer. When the
voices came under the window, and rose in full cadence, I went out on the
balcony to see to whom they belonged. It was the _forçats_, returning from
their work to the Acordada! guarded by soldiers, their chains clanking in
measure to the melody, and accompanied by some miserable-looking women.
We left the church feeling very tired and sleepy, and walked towards the
booths, where, in the midst of flowers and evergreens, they were still
selling ices, and lemonade and _chia_. We sat down to rest in the cleanest
of these leafy bowers, and then returned to Coyohuacan. There was no
drunkenness, or quarrelling, or confusion of any sort. An occasional hymn,
rising in the silence of the air, or the distant flashing of a hundred
lights, alone gave notice that the funeral procession of the Saviour had
not yet halted for the night; but there was no noise, not even mirth.
Everything was conducted with a sobriety befitting the event that was
celebrated. That some of the curate's horses were stolen that night, is
only a proof that bad men were out, and took the opportunity of his absence
from home to plunder his stables. We were told an anecdote concerning Simon
the Cyrenian, which is not bad. A man was taken up in one of the villages
as a vagrant, and desired by the justice to give an account of himself--to
explain why he was always wandering about, and had no employment. The man,
with the greatest indignation, replied, "No employment! I am _substitute
Cyrenian_ at Coyohuacan in the Holy Week!" That is to say, he was to be
substituted in the Cyrenian's place, should anything occur to prevent that
individual from representing the character.
LETTER THE FORTIETH
Balloon--San Bartolo--Indian Women--A Beauty--Different
Castes--Indians--Their Character, etc.--Those of Noble Race--Ball at the
French Minister's-_Abecilta_--Danger of Walking Unattended--Shooting
Party--A Murder--Robbery of a Farmhouse--Discomfited Robber Captain--The
"_Zambos_"--Letters and Visitors--Country Life in Mexico.
23rd April.
We went to Mexico yesterday to see a balloon ascend from the Plaza de
Toros, with an aëronaut and his daughter; French people, I believe. The
scene was really beautiful. The plaza was filled with well-dressed people,
and all the boxes crowded with ladies in full toilet. The president was
there with his staff, and there were two bands of music. The day was
perfectly brilliant, and the streets crowded with handsome carriages, many
of them open. The balloon swayed itself up and down in the midst of the
plaza like a living thing. Everything seemed ready for the ascent, when it
was announced that there was a hole in the balloon, and that, consequently,
there could be no ascent that day. The people bore their disappointment
very good-humouredly, although it was conjectured that the _air traveller_
had merely proposed to himself to get their money, without the slightest
intention of performing his voyage. One amusing circumstance was, that some
penny-a-line rhymer had written an account of it in verse beforehand,
giving a most grandiloquent account of the ascent of the balloon; and when
we came out, the plaza was full of men selling these verses, which the
people were all buying and reading with roars of laughter.
The first of May being _San Felipe_, there will be a ball at the French
Minister's, to which we shall probably go.
25th.--We have just returned from a ride to San Bartolo, an Indian village,
four leagues from this, where we went with a large party, some on horses,
some on asses, others on mules, and one adventurous Jehu driving himself in
a four-wheeled carriage, with a pair of horses, over a road formed of ruts,
stones, holes, and rocks, where, I will venture to say, no carriage ever
made its appearance before. Even the horses and asses got along with
difficulty. In spite of large straw hats and green veils, we were burnt the
colour of red Indians. In the middle of the day we find the sun intolerable
at present, and, owing to the badness of the roads, we did not reach our
destination until twelve or one o'clock.
San Bartolo is a small, scattered Indian village, with a church, and is
remarkable for a beautiful spring of water, that jets cold and clear from
the hard rock, as if Moses had but just smote it; for its superb tall
pine-trees; for the good looks and cleanness of the Indian women, who are
for ever washing their long hair in the innumerable clear streamlets formed
by the spring; and for a view of Mexico, which is particularly favourable,
owing to the thick, dark screen of pine wood in the foreground, and the
distinct view of the Laguna. Our dinner was carried by Indians, who had
trotted off with it at day-dawn; but who had taken the wrong road, and did
not arrive till long after us. We dined under the pine-trees by the side of
the stream, but surrounded by crowds of gaping Indians, in too close
vicinity to be agreeable. Some of the young women were remarkably handsome,
with the most beautiful teeth imaginable, laughing and talking in their
native tongue at a great rate, as they were washing in the brooks, some
their hair and others their clothes. The men looked as dirty as Indians
generally do, and by no means on a level with these handsome damsels, who
are so much superior to the common race of Indians near Mexico, that one
would think they had some intermixture of Spanish blood in their veins. A
sister of the woman who takes charge of the hacienda where we live, is one
of the most beautiful creatures I ever beheld. Large eyes, with long dark
lashes, black hair nearly touching the ground, teeth like snow, a dark but
glowing complexion, a superb figure, with fine arms and hands, and small
beautifully-formed feet. All that is best of Indian and Spanish, "of dark
and bright," seems united in her. C---n says he has seen peasant women in
Andalusia in the same style of beauty, and quite as handsome. She is only
nineteen. Such beauties as these startle one every now and then in some
remote village. She belongs, no doubt, to the mestizos--the descendants of
whites and Indians, the handsomest race in Mexico.
You ask if the castes in Mexico are distinct. There are seven supposed to
be so. 1st, the Gachupinos, or Spaniards born in Europe; 2nd, the Creoles,
that is, whites of European family born in America; 3rd, the Mestizos; 4th,
the Mulattoes, descendants of whites and negroes, of whom there are few;
5th, the Zambos, descendants of negroes and Indians, the ugliest race in
Mexico; 6th, the Indians; and 7th, the remains of the African negroes.
Of pure Indians, Humboldt in his day calculated that there existed two
millions and a half in New Spain (without counting mestizos), and they are,
probably, very little altered from the inferior Indians, as Cortes found
them. The principal families perished at the time of the conquest. The
priests, sole depositaries of knowledge, were put to death; the manuscripts
and hieroglyphical paintings were burnt, and the remaining Indians fell
into that state of ignorance and degradation, from which they have never
emerged. The rich Indian women preferred marrying their Spanish conquerors
to allying themselves with the degraded remnant of their countrymen; poor
artisans, workmen, porters, etc., of whom Cortes speaks as filling the
streets of the great cities, and as being considered little better than
beasts of burden; nearly naked in _tierra caliente_, dressed pretty much as
they now are in the temperate parts of the country; and everywhere with
nearly the same manners, and habits, and customs, as they now have, but
especially in the more distant villages where they have little intercourse
with the other classes. Even in their religion, Christianity, as I observed
before, seems to be formed of the ruins of their mythology; and all these
festivities of the church, these fireworks, and images, and gay dresses,
harmonize completely with their childish love of show, and are, in fact,
their greatest source of delight. To buy these they save up all their
money, and when you give a penny to an Indian child, it trots off to buy
crackers, as another would to buy candy. Attempts have been made by their
curates to persuade them to omit the celebration of certain days, and to
expend less in the ceremonies of others, but the indignation and discontent
which such proposals have caused, have induced them to desist in their
endeavours.
Under an appearance of stupid apathy they veil a great depth of cunning.
They are grave and gentle and rather sad in their appearance, when not
under the influence of pulque; but when they return to their villages in
the evening, and have taken a drop of comfort, their white teeth light up
their bronze countenances like lamps, and the girls especially make the air
ring with their laughter, which is very musical. I think it is Humboldt who
says that their smile is extremely gentle, and the expression of their eyes
very severe. As they have no beard, if it were not for a little moustache,
which they frequently wear on the upper lip, there would be scarcely any
difference between the faces of men and women.
The Indians in and near the capital are, according to Humboldt, either the
descendants of the former labourers, or are remains of noble Indian
families, who, disdaining to intermarry with their Spanish conquerors,
preferred themselves to till the ground which their vassals formerly
cultivated for them. It is said that these Indians of noble race, though to
the vulgar eye undistinguishable from their fellows, are held in great
respect by their inferior countrymen. In Cholula, particularly, there are
still caciques with long Indian names; also in Tlascala--and though
barefoot and ragged, they are said to possess great hidden wealth. But it
is neither in or near the capital that we can see the Indians to perfection
in their original state. It is only by travelling through the provinces
that we can accomplish this; and should the lateness of the season oblige
us to remain here any time after another Minister arrives, we may probably
take a longer journey in some different direction from _tierra caliente_,
where we may see some tribes of the indigenous Mexicans. Certainly no
visible improvement has taken place in their condition since the
independence. They are quite as poor and quite as ignorant, and quite as
degraded as they were in 1808, and if they do raise a little grain of their
own, they are so hardly taxed that the privilege is as nought.
May 2nd--We returned from Mexico this morning, having gone in to attend the
ball given at the French Minister's, on the day of Louis Philippe. It was
very pretty, and we stayed till it was very late. We met with such a
cordial reception from all our friends, whom we have not seen for a month,
that we are tempted to believe ourselves as much missed in Mexico as they
say we are. The Señora L---- and the E----s were amongst the best dressed
Mexican ladies last night; the latter in white crape and diamonds, and the
other in black blonde over rose-colour, also with diamonds. The Señora
A----, who went with us, looked very pretty in a white blonde dress, with a
small black velvet turban rolled round with large diamonds and pearls.
There were a great number of small crimson velvet turbans, and an amazing
number of black blonde dresses. There were certainly some very pretty
women. The _corps diplomatique_ went in uniform.
7th--Abecilta, a favourite Spanish actor, died a few days ago, and, as
C---n took several boxes on the night of a play given for the benefit of
his widow, we went in to the theatre on Saturday last. We are now looking
out for another house in Mexico, for when the rainy season begins we shall
find this too far from the city for C----n, who is obliged to be there
constantly.
We ventured to take a walk alone yesterday morning through the lanes, down
to San Angel and Coyohuacan, for which piece of imprudence we were severely
reprehended, and to-day it appears that two women had been robbed and
ill-treated on the road near here; so we are too ready to subscribe to the
renewal of our sentence of imprisonment in the house and orchard, when we
have no gentlemen with us; but it must be confessed that it takes greatly
from the charms of a country life, not to be able to walk out
fearlessly....
The quietness and stillness of this place is incredible. There is actually
not a sound in the air; not a sight but a ragged Indian. The garden is in
great beauty. The apricots are ripe and abundant. The roses are in full
blow; and there is a large pomegranate-tree at the gate of the orchard,
which is one mass of ponçeau blossom. It is much warmer in the middle of
the day this summer than it was last.
We spent a pleasant day lately at a great hacienda a few leagues from this,
belonging to a Spanish millionaire, on occasion of a shooting party. We
went there to breakfast, and afterwards set off on horseback, sitting
sideways on _men's_ saddles, to see the sport. It would have been very
agreeable but for the heat. The sportsmen were not very successful;--saw a
flight of rose-coloured flamingoes, who sailed high over their heads,
unhurt; killed some very handsome birds called _trigueros_, with beautiful
yellow plumage, and some ducks. The trigueros are considered a delicacy. We
rode with the administrador all round the estate, which is very productive
and profitable. He told us that they sell in Mexico, annually, fifteen
thousand dollars' worth of corn, and ten thousand dollars' worth of milk,
sending in this produce in canoes, by the canal which passes this way. We
dismounted from our horses in a green meadow covered with daisies and
buttercups, which, from association, I prefer to the tuberoses and
pomegranate blossom, which now adorn the gardens. The Señor ----- gave us
an excellent dinner _a l'Espagnole_; after which I made an attempt to fire
at some birds which shook their tails, and flew away in the most
contemptuous manner....
The new Secretary of Legation, Señor T----, and the new attache, Señor
G----, have just arrived in Mexico.
10th.--The Baron and Madame de -----, with their secretary, the Count de
B----, came out yesterday morning unexpectedly to breakfast, and spent the
day with us.
13th.--We went out with C---n last evening, to take a walk; when a man
rushed by us in a state of great agitation, and on going further we met
some workmen, who told us that an Indian labourer had stabbed a man in the
next field, and that he had died before a padre could be procured. We heard
the cries of his wife and children, and A----, crossing the ditch that
bordered the field, went to see the man. He was a master-workman, or
director, and had found fault with one of the men for his idleness. High
words ensued, and the labourer (probably the man who had passed us) drew
his knife and stabbed him. He was lying stone dead, with his hand half cut
through in his efforts to defend himself. A---- asked an administrador, who
was standing near, what would be done to the guilty man. "Probably
nothing," said he, shrugging his shoulders; "we have no judges to punish
crime." This rencounter, as you may believe, took away from us all
inclination to pursue our rambles.
There is a pretty farmhouse in the village, in which we took shelter the
other day from a shower of rain. The farmers are civil and respectful, a
superior kind of people, with good manners rather above their station. The
daughters are good-looking, and the house clean and neat. One of the girls
gave me an account of a nocturnal visit which the robbers paid them last
winter. She showed me the little room where she was alone and asleep, when
her mother and sister, who slept in the chamber adjoining, being wakened by
the breaking in of their door, sprang out of the window to make their
escape, and she was left in the house alone. She jumped out of bed and
bolted the door (her room had no other egress), and there she held a parley
with these night visitors, promising to unlock every drawer and closet, if
they would wait till she put on her clothes, and would do her no personal
injury. The agreement was made, and they kept their word. They cleared the
house of every article it contained, leaving nothing but the blanket in
which the girl had wrapped herself. All their clothes, household utensils,
money, everything was carried off with astonishing precision; and having
made her swear not to move till they had time to leave the village, they
paid her no further attention. The other women, who had given the alarm,
found no one inclined to move in the middle of the night against a party
whose numbers their fears had probably magnified.
The administrador gave us an amusing account this evening of a visit which
a band of no less than thirty robbers once ventured to pay this strong and
well-defended hacienda. He was living there alone, that is, without the
family, and had just barred and bolted everything for the night, but had
not yet locked the outer gate, when looking out from his window into the
courtyard by moonlight, he saw a band of robbers ride up to the door. He
instantly took his measures, and seizing the great keys, ran up the little
stair that leads to the azotea, locking the gate by which he passed, and,
calling to the captain by name (for the robbers were headed by a noted
chieftain), requested to know what he wanted at that hour of the night. The
captain politely begged him to come downstairs and he would tell him; but
the agent, strong in the possession of his great keys, and well knowing the
solidity of the iron-barred windows, continued his parley in a high tone.
The captain rode round, examined everything with a practised eye, and found
that it would require a regular siege to make good his entry. He
threatened, entreated, observed that he would be content with a small sum
of money, but all in vain. There stood the sturdy administrador on the
housetop, and there sat the captain on his horse below, something like the
fox and the crow; but the agent with the keys was wiser than the crow and
her cheese, for no cajoling would induce him to let them out of his grasp;
and worse than all, shooting him would have done them no good. At last the
captain, finding himself entirely outwitted, took off his hat, politely
wished the agent a very good night, drew off his men and departed.
Another time, being also alone, he was attacked in broad daylight by two
men who came under pretence of buying pulque; but having time to get hold
of a sword, he overpowered one, which frightened the other, upon which they
both began to laugh, and assured him it was mere experiment to see what he
would do--a perfect jest, which he pretended to believe, but advised them
not to try it again, as it was too good a joke to be repeated. Señor -----
pointed out to us the other day a well-known robber captain, who was riding
on the high road with a friend. He had the worst-looking, most vulgar, and
most villainous face I ever saw; a low-lived and most unpoetic-looking
ruffian; fat and sallow.
We saw a horribly ugly man to-day, and were told he was a _lobo_, the name
given here to the _Zambos_; who are the most frightful human beings that
can be seen. La Güera Rodriguez told us that on an estate of hers, one
woman of that race was in the habit of attending church, and that she was
so fearfully hideous, the priest had been obliged to desire her to remain
at home, because she distracted the attention of the congregation!
We spent yesterday at the house of the ----- Minister at San Angel, where
he gave us and the ----- Minister and his family a beautiful breakfast. How
consistent everything looks in a good English house! so handsome without
being gaudy--the plate so well cleaned, the servants so well trained.
June 8th.--We were sitting under an apple-tree the other day, trying to
tame the fiercest little deer I ever saw, who was butting and kicking with
all his might, when a large packet of letters was brought us, the reading
of which insured us an agreeable afternoon. We continue to lead a very
quiet life here, occasionally taking a short ride in the evening, and
making acquaintance with the neighbouring villages, the prettiest of which
is Tesapan, a most rural and leafy spot, where there are fine fruit trees,
plenty of water, and good-looking peasant-girls. Sometimes we go to San
Antonio to see the V---o family; occasionally to San Agustin, where they
are preparing for the great fête. We are in treaty for a house in Mexico,
having now given up all idea of passing through Vera Cruz this summer. We
are in hopes of having that of the late Marquesa de San Roman, who died
some time ago, but the delays that take place in any transaction connected
with a house in Mexico, and the difficulty of obtaining a decisive answer,
are hard trials of patience.
We generally have a number of visitors from Mexico on Sunday, and those who
come in carriages may be considered as real friends, for they decidedly
risk their necks, not to mention their carriage-springs at a _bad bit_ on
the road, which the owners, who are Indians, will not allow any one to mend
for them, and will not mend themselves. When we reach it, we are obliged
regularly to get out of the carriage, go about a hundred yards on foot, and
then remain in much anxiety at the top of the hill, till we see whether or
not the carriage arrives unbroken, which it rarely does. A few dollars
would make it perfectly safe.
Our chief visitors during the week are from the Carmelite convent of San
Angel. The old _padre guardian_ is about eighty. Each convent has a prior,
but the padre guardian exercises authority over all the convents of his
order as well as over his own.
There are many excellent houses and fine gardens in San Angel, and a number
of families from Mexico are now there for the season. Tacubaya and all the
environs are beginning to be occupied, and Mexico looks warm and deserted.
But there are so few incidents in our quiet life among the magueys, that I
shall write no more till we return from San Agustin after the fête. If you
wish to hear how we pass our time, you must know that we generally rise
about six, and go out into the orchard and stroll about, or sit down with a
book in a pleasant arbour at the end of one of the walks, which is
surrounded by rose-bushes, and has a little stream of water running past
it. Nor do we ever enter the orchard unarmed with a long pole, for its
entrance is guarded by a flock of angry geese, hissing like the many-headed
Hydra that watched over the golden apples of the Hesperides. At eight we
breakfast, and by nine the sun is already powerful enough to prevent us
from leaving the house. We therefore sit down to read or write, and do
occasionally take a game at billiards. C---n generally rides to Mexico, but
if not, goes up to the azotea with a book, or writes in his study until
four o'clock, when we dine.
After dinner we walk into the village, if we have any attendant esquire; if
not, we go to the azotea and see the sun set behind the volcanoes, or walk
in the garden till it is dark, and then sit down in the front of the house,
and look at the lights in Mexico. Then we have tea or chocolate--and the
candles are lighted--and the last Indian workman has gone off to his
village--and the house is barred in, and we sit down to read, or write or
talk, or sometimes we play billiards by lamp-light. And then indeed the
silence and the solitude make us feel as if the world were completely shut
out. I never experienced such perfect stillness. Even the barking of a dog
sounds like an event. Therefore, expect no amusing letters from this place;
for though we are very comfortable, there are no incidents to relate. The
Indians come in the morning to drink pulque, (which, by the way, I now
think excellent, and shall find it very difficult to live without!) a
little child from the village brings us some bouquets of flowers, which the
Indians have a pretty way of arranging in a pineapple or pyramidal form;
the Chinese cook, with his little slits of eyes, passes by with meat and
fruit which he has been buying at the market of San Angel; the prior
saunters in to see how we are--a chance visitor comes on horseback from
Mexico, with a long sword by his side, as if he were going to fight the
Saracens. And excepting that a padre came last Sunday and said mass to us
in the pretty little chapel of the hacienda, which saved us the trouble of
going down to the village, and, moreover, took chocolate with us
afterwards, there has been nothing to vary the usual routine of our country
life.
LETTER THE FORTY-FIRST
Gambling--Fête at San Agustin--Breakfast at San Antonio--Report--Cock-
fight--Ladies--Private Gambling--A _Vaca_--The _Calvario_--Bonnets--
Dinner--Evening Ball--Mingling of Classes--Copper Tables--Dresses and
Decorations--Indian Bankers, Male and Female--Decorum-Habit--Holders of
Banks--Female Gambler--Robbery--Anecdote--Bet--_Casa de Moneda_--Leave San
Angel--Celebration--Address--Cross and Diploma--Reply--Presentation of a
Sword--Discourses and Addresses--Reflections.
10th June.
One year since I last wrote of San Agustin! An entire year has fled swiftly
away on rushing pinions, to add its unit to the rolling century. And again,
on a bright morning in June, we set off for the hospitable San Antonio,
where we were invited to breakfast and to pass the night on the second day
of the fête. We found a very brilliant party assembled; the family with all
its branches, the Ex-Minister Cuevas, with his handsome sister-in-law, La
Guera Rodriguez, with one of her beautiful granddaughters (daughter of the
Marquis of G---e), now making her first appearance in Mexico, and various
other agreeable people. The first day of the fête, a rumour was afloat that
an attack was to be made on the banks by the federal party; that they
expected to procure the sinews of war to the extent of a million of
dollars, and then intended to raise a _grito_ in Mexico, taking advantage
of the temporary absence of the president and his officers. The plan seemed
rather feasible, and the report, true or false, was current yesterday; but
if there was any truth in it, the discovery has been made in time, for
nothing has occurred. San Agustin appeared even gayer and more crowded than
it was last year. We spent the day at the E----s, and went with them to a
box in the plaza to see the cock-fight, which I had no particular pleasure,
I must confess, in witnessing again, but went for the sake of those who had
not seen it before. The general _coup d'ceil_ was exceeding gay, and the
improvement in the dress of the ladies since last year very striking. There
were neither diamonds nor pearls among the most fashionable. The bonnets
were chiefly Parisian, as were many of the gowns. One box looked a
veritable parterre of flowers. The ladies of our party wore dresses and
bonnets as simple, fresh, and elegant as could be seen in any part of the
world. A young and titled heiress, newly arrived from her distant estates,
wore pink satin with a white hat and feathers, and we observed, that
according to the ancient San Agustin fashion, she changed her dress four or
five times a day. But the ladies may dress and may smile, and may look
their very best; they are little thought of this day, in comparison with
the one all-powerful, all-pervading object. It is even whispered that one
cause of the more than usual crowd at San Agustin this year, is that many
failures are expected in mercantile houses, and that the heads of these
houses or their agents are here on the desperate hope of retrieving their
falling fortunes.
A good deal of play on a small scale goes on in the private houses, among
those who do not take much part in the regular gambling; but all are
interested more or less; even strangers, even ladies, even ourselves.
Occasional news is brought in, and received with deep interest of the state
of the banks, of the losses or gains of the different individuals, or of
the result of the _vacas_, (a sort of general purse into which each puts in
two or three ounces,) by different stragglers from the gambling-houses, who
have themselves only ventured a few ounces, and who prefer the society of
ladies to that of the Monte players. These are generally foreigners, and
chiefly English.
We found the road to the _Calvario_, where, as usual, there was a ball in
the afternoon, blocked up with carriages, and the hill itself covered with
gay figures; who were dancing as well as the tremendous crowd would permit.
This was really tolerably republican. The women generally were dressed as
the better classes of Mexicans used to be, years ago, and not so many years
neither (and as many in the country, still are) in blonde dresses, with
very short petticoats, open silk stockings and white satin shoes; and such
a collection of queer bonnets has probably never been seen since the days
when _les Anglaises pour rire_ first set foot on Gallic shores. Some were
like small steeples, others resembled helmets, some were like sugar-loaves,
and most seemed to have been set on, for convenience-sake, all the way out.
Amidst these there was a good sprinkling of pretty Herbaults and Paris
dresses, but they belonged to the more fashionable classes. The scene was
amusing from its variety, but we did not remain long, as it threatened
rain. As we looked back, the crowd on the hill presented the appearance of
a bed of butterflies dancing with black ants.
We returned to the -----'s to dinner, which was very handsome, and entirely
French. There were about twenty-eight persons at table, some of them looked
as if they had rather lost than otherwise. After dinner--music and
conversation on the events and probabilities of the day, till it was time
to dress for the ball at the Plaza. We, however, preferred going to a box,
which saves the trouble of dressing, besides being "_de mucho tono_," very
fashionable; but when we arrived, not a box was to be had, the crowd was so
great, and there were so many people of _tono_, besides ourselves, who had
preferred doing the same thing; so we were obliged to content ourselves
with retreating to a third row of benches on the floor, after persuading at
least a dozen of very good-natured women to turn out, in order to let us
in. We were afterwards joined by the ----- Minister and his wife. The ball
looked very gay, and was prodigiously crowded, and exceedingly amusing.
There were people of all classes; _modistes_ and carpenters, shop-boys,
tailors, hatters, and hosiers, mingled with all the _haut ton_ of Mexico.
Every shop-boy considered himself entitled to dance with every lady, and no
lady considered herself as having a right to refuse him, and then to dance
with another person. The Señora de -----, a most high-bred and dignified
person, danced with a stable-boy in a jacket and without gloves, and he
appeared particularly gratified at the extraordinary opportunity thus
afforded him of holding her white gloves in his brown paws. These fellows
naturally select the first ladies as their partners, and, strange as it may
seem, there is nothing in their behaviour that the most fastidious can
complain of. They are perfectly polite, quiet, and well conducted; and what
is more remarkable, go through a quadrille as well as their neighbours. The
ball was quietness itself, until near the end, when the wind-instruments
were suddenly seized with a fit of economy, the time they were paid for
having probably expired, and stopped short in the midst of a waltz; upon
which the gentlemen waltzers shouted "_Viento! Viento!_" at the full extent
of their voices, clapping their hands, refusing to dance, and entirely
drowning the sound of some little jingling guitars, which were patiently
twanging on, until the hired sons of AEolus had to resume their labours.
There were some pretty faces among the secondary class of small
shopkeepers; but their beauty is not striking, and takes a long time to
discover; especially _fagotees_ as they are in their overloaded dresses.
Amongst the handsomest of the higher classes, were the Señora C---s, and a
daughter of the Marquis G---e.
On the third night of the fête, C---n and I having left the ball-room,
about ten o'clock, walked out in the direction of the copper-tables which
filled the middle of the square, and were covered with awnings. It is a
sight that, once seen, can never be forgotten. Nothing but the pencil of
Hogarth, or the pen of Boz, could do justice to the various groups there
assembled. It was a gambling _fête champetre_, conducted on the most
liberal scale.
On each table were great mountains of copper, with an occasional sprinkling
of silver. There was a profusion of evergreens, small tin lamps dripping
with oil, and sloping tallow candles shedding grease upon the board. Little
ragged boys, acting as waiters, were busily engaged in handing round pulque
and chia in cracked tumblers. There was, moreover, an agreeable tinkling
produced from several guitars, and even the bankers condescended to amuse
their guests with soothing strains. The general dress of the company
consisted of a single blanket, gracefully disposed in folds about the
person; so as to show various glimpses of a bronze skin. To this some added
a pair of Mexican pantaloons, and some a shirt of a doubtful colour. There
were many with large hats, most of which had crowns or parts of crowns, but
all affording free entrance to the fresh air. Generally speaking,
how-ever, the head was uncovered, or covered only with its native thatching
of long, bushy, tangled black hair.
This might be out of compliment to the ladies, of whom there were several,
and who ought in politeness to have been mentioned first. Nothing could be
simpler than their costume, consisting of a very dirty and extremely torn
chemise, with short sleeves, a shorter petticoat, and a pair of shoes,
generally of dirty satin: also a reboso, and the long hair hanging down as
Eve's golden locks may have done in Paradise. "They call this place a
Paradise," a Spanish soldier wrote to his father; "and so I think it is, it
is so full of _Adams_."
There was neither fighting, nor swearing, nor high words. I doubt whether
there be as much decorum at Crockford's; indeed, they were scrupulously
polite to each other. At one table, the banker was an enormously fat
gentleman, one half of whose head was bound up with a dirty white
handkerchief, over which a torn piece of hat was stuck, very much to one
side. He had a most roguish eye, and a smile of inviting benignity on his
dirty countenance. In one hand he held and tingled a guitar, while he most
ingeniously swept in the copper with the other. By his side sat two
wretched-looking women, with long matted hair, their elbows on the table,
and their great eyes fixed upon the game with an expression of the most
intense anxiety. At another, the _banker_ was a pretty little Indian woman,
rather clean, comparatively speaking, and who appeared to be doing business
smartly. A man stood near her, leaning against one of the poles that
supported the awning, who attracted all our attention. He was enveloped in
a torn blanket, his head uncovered, and his feet bare, and was glaring upon
the table with his great dark, haggard-looking eyes, his brown face livid,
and his expression bordering on despair. It needed no one to tell us that
on the table was his last stake. What will such a man do but go upon the
road?
I have heard it mentioned as a strong circumstance in favour of the Mexican
character, that there is neither noise nor disturbance in these reunions;
none of that uproar and violence that there would be in an English mob, for
example. The fact is certain, but the inference is doubtful. These people
are degraded, and accustomed to endure. They are gentle and cunning, and
their passions are not easily roused, at least to open display; but once
awakened, it is neither to uproar that these passions will be excited, nor
by fair fight that they will be assuaged. In England, a boxing-match
decides a dispute amongst the lower orders; in Mexico, a knife; and a
broken head is easier mended than a cut throat. Despair must find vent in
some way; and secret murder, or midnight robbery, are the fatal
consequences of this very calmness of countenance, which is but a mask of
Nature's own giving to her Indian offspring.
Another reason for this tranquillity is the _habit_ of gambling, in which
they have indulged from childhood, and which has taught them that neither
high words nor violence will restore a single dollar once fairly lost; and
in point of fairness, everything is carried on with the strictest honour,
as among gamblers of high degree.
While "high life below stairs" is thus enacting, and these people are
courting fortune in the fresh air, the gentlemanly gamblers are seated
before the green cloth-covered tables, with the gravity befitting so many
cabinet councils; but without their mystery, for doors and windows are
thrown open, and both ladies and gentlemen may pass in and out, and look on
at the game, if they please. The heaps of ounces look temptingly, and make
it appear a true El Dorado. Nor is there any lack of creature-comforts to
refresh the flagging spirits. There are supper-spread tables, covered with
savoury meats to appease their hunger, and with generous wines to gladden
their hearts; and the gentlemen who surrounded that board seemed to be
playing, instead of Monte, an excellent knife and fork.
You must not suppose that those who hold gaming-tables are the less
considered on that account; on the contrary, as the banks generally win,
they are amongst the richest, and, consequently, the most respected men in
Mexico. These bankers are frequently Spaniards, who have found gambling the
readiest stepping-stone to fortune. Señor ----- explained to me one plan of
those who hold the banks, a sort of _hedging_, by which it is next to
impossible that they can lose. For example, one of these gentlemen proposes
to his friends to take a share in a _vaca_, each contributing a few ounces.
Having collected several hundred ounces, they go to play at _his bank_. If
they win, he receives his share, of course; and if they lose his bank wins
the whole. It is proceeding upon the principle of "Heads I win, tails you
lose."
At the tables, few words are spoken. The heaps of gold change masters; but
the masters do not change countenance. I saw but one person who looked a
little out of humour, and he was a foreigner. The rich man adds to his
store, and the poor man becomes a beggar. He is ruined, but "_makes no
sign_."
The ladies who have collected ounces and made purses, send their friends
and admirers to the tables to try their luck for them; and in some of the
inferior houses, the Señoras of a lower class occasionally try their
fortune for themselves. I saw one of these, who had probably lost, by no
means "taking it coolly." She looked like an overcharged thunder-cloud; but
whether she broke forth in anger or in tears, thunder or rain, we did not
stay to see.
In short, it is an all-pervading mania, and as man is "a bundle of habits,"
the most moral persons in this country (always excepting one or two ladies
who express their opinions strongly against it) see nothing in it to
condemn, and are surprised at the effect it produces on a stranger; and,
indeed, after a few years' residence here, a foreigner almost becomes
reconciled to these abuses, by the veil of decorum with which they are
covered.
We returned to San Antonio by the brightest possible moonlight, and in
perfect safety, it being on the high-road to Mexico, and therefore guarded
by soldiers. We heard the next morning, that a nephew of General B---s, who
had ventured upon going by a cross-road to his house, at _Mizcuaque_, has
been attacked and robbed of his winnings, besides being severely wounded.
This being the natural consequence, the _morale_ to the story can excite no
surprise. The robbers who, in hopes of plunder, flocked down at the time of
the fête, like sopilotes seeking carrion, hide themselves among the barren
rocks of the _Pedregal_, and render all cross-roads insecure, except with a
very strong escort.
An anecdote was related to us this morning, by a member of the cabinet, a
striking one amongst the innumerable instances of fortune's caprices. A
very rich Spaniard, proprietor of several haciendas, attended the fête at
San Agustin, and having won three thousand ounces, ordered the money to be
carried in sacks to his carriage, and prepared to return to Mexico along
with his wife. His carriage was just setting off, when a friend of his came
out of an adjoining house, and requested him to stay to breakfast, to which
he agreed. After breakfast, there being a monte table in the house, at
which some of his acquaintances were playing, he put down two ounces, and
lost. He continued playing and losing, until he had lost his three thousand
ounces, which were sent for and transferred to the winners. He still
continued playing with a terrible infatuation, till he had lost his whole
fortune. He went on blindly, staking one hacienda after another, and
property of all sorts, until the sun, which had risen upon him a rich and
prosperous man, set, leaving him a beggar! It is said that he bore this
extraordinary and sudden reverse with the utmost equanimity. He left a son,
whom we have seen at San Agustin, where he earns his livelihood as
_croupier_ at the gambling-tables.
29th.--No particular occurrence has taken place since the fête; a visit
from the new Secretary of Legation and the Attache, a diplomatic dinner at
the ----- Minister's, much going and coming and writing on the subject of a
house in Mexico, a correspondence concerning the sale of our furniture,
mules, etc., etc., a good deal of interest excited by a bet between two
English gentlemen, as to whether it were possible for one of them to ride
from Mexico to San Angel in twenty minutes, which feat he performed,
starting from the gate called "_El Niño Perdido_," and reaching the old
church of San Angel within the given time; these I think are the most
remarkable circumstances that have taken place. We are now in treaty for
the furnished apartments of the director of the _Casa de Moneda_ (the
mint), a great building next the palace, from which upwards of one thousand
three hundred millions of coined gold and silver have issued since the
beginning of the sixteenth century. The house is a palace in extent and
solidity; and the residence of the director is very spacious and handsome,
besides having the great advantage of being furnished. We expect to return
to Mexico in a few days.
CASA DE MONEDA, 6th July.
Here we are, re-established in Mexico, for a short time at least, and not
without difficulty has it been accomplished. We left the country with some
regret, as this is the pleasantest time of the year for being there, and
everything was looking green and beautiful. We came in, ourselves, in a
loaded carriage, and in advance, fourteen asses loaded with boxes, four
Indians with ditto, and two enormous loaded carts, one drawn by four, and
another by eight mules. We were a regular _caravan_, as our friend the
alcalde called us. Imagine the days of packing and unpacking consequent
thereupon!
On the 1st of July, the victory gained by the government over the
federalist party was celebrated with great éclat. The president was
presented with a diamond cross, valued at six thousand dollars, and General
Valencia with a splendid jewel-hilted sword of great value. "Yesterday
morning," says the newspaper of the day, "a general pealing of the bells
and the usual salutes announced to the capital that it was a day of rewards
and of universal joy. At twelve o'clock, his Excellency the President of
the Republic went to the palace, to fulfill the formality of closing the
sessions, and to receive from the hands of the President of the Chamber of
Deputies, the diploma and cross of honour mentioned in the decrees of the
second of March and second of May of this year. An immense multitude
occupied the galleries; and the President, Don J. M. María Bravo, addressed
his Excellency General Bustamante, in the following speech:
"Citizen General, and illustrious President:--Nations never forget the
distinguished services that are done to them, nor fail to reward those
heroic actions performed for the common good. Sooner or later they show
themselves grateful, and reward as they ought their good and valiant
servants. The Mexican nation has not forgotten yours, and its congress has
ever borne in mind those which you performed for it at that happy period
when the unfortunate hero of Iguala, causing the voice of freedom to
resound to the remotest lands of the Mexican territory, gave a terrible
lesson to those who wish to subdue weak nations, with no other title than
that of strength. You were one of the first and most valiant chiefs, who,
placed by his side, assisted in this important and happy work; you it was
who showed to the tyrant in the fields of Juchi, Aztcapozalco and others,
that the sword of the Mexicans once unsheathed for liberty and justice,
fights without softening or breaking; and knows how to triumph over its
enemies, even when superior forces oppose it; you it was, in short, who
with intrepid valour co-operated in re-establishing a liberty which, torn
from the ancient children of the soil, was converted by their oppressors
into a hard and shameful tyranny. History has already consecrated her pages
to you: she will record to posterity your heroic deeds, and congress has
already busied itself in rewarding such interesting services.
"If some Mexicans, erring in their opinions, by a fatality in this country,
have disowned them, making an attempt against your personal liberty,
notwithstanding the dignity of the first magistrate; trampling upon laws
and overturning order; they have at length been obliged to respect you; and
your valour, firmness, and decision, have made them preserve the
consideration due to an ancient chief of our independence, and to a first
magistrate who has known how to set an example of subordination to the
laws, and to give with dignity lessons of valour and of honourable conduct.
"A diploma and a cross are the rewards which the sovereign congress has
decreed for these services and merits. Do not regard in the one the
effaceable characters in which it is written, nor be dazzled by the
brilliancy of the other. See in both a proof of your country's gratitude,
and engraving it in your soul, continue to give testimonies to your country
that she is the first object of your care; that your watchings, fatigues,
and labours are dedicated only to procure for her those benefits which may
bring about the durable and solid peace that she so much desires, and for
which you would, if necessary, sacrifice yourself on her altars.
"Do not forget that to-day she shows herself grateful, and that this is the
day decreed by the august national representative body, to put you in
possession of the title and insignia which manifests her gratitude. I, in
the name of the congress, congratulate you on this fortunate event, and
having the honour to fulfil the desire of the sovereign power, place in
your hands this diploma of deserving reward from your country, and give you
possession of this cross."
His Excellency having received the diploma and cross above mentioned, with
his native modesty replied thus:
"In hearing, by the organ of the august national representation, the great
encomiums with which it favours me, putting me at the same time in
possession of these precious gifts, my soul overflows with ineffable
pleasure, and is overwhelmed with the deepest gratitude. My satisfaction
and my glory are immense. What could I have done, that thus the generous
hand of the representatives of the Mexican people should load me with
honours? Have my trifling services been able to fix the attention of the
country, on whose altars have been sacrificed so many and such illustrious
heroes of liberty? My glory would have been yet greater, had I, like them,
descended to the sepulchre, when the sun of victory brightened the
existence of this sovereign and independent nation, to the glory of the
universe.
"The honours which I receive to-day are certainly great; but I should have
preferred them before the never sufficiently mourned catastrophe of the
immortal Yturbide. Let us throw a thick veil over so irreparable a loss. It
is true that, surviving such great misfortunes, I have been enabled to
consecrate my existence and my vigilance to the peace, order, and felicity
of this beloved country. But how difficult is the conduct of those who
govern in the midst of the conflict of civil dissensions! In these, my
conscience has chosen, and my resolution has never vacillated between
ignominy and honour. Do I, on this account, deserve the national gratitude
and munificence manifested by such distinguished rewards? I return for them
to the representatives of the nation my frankest gratitude; fixing my mind
only on the grandeur and benevolence of the sovereign power which rewards
me in the sacred name of the country. I shall preserve till death these
precious objects which render my name illustrious as a soldier and as a
supreme magistrate. They will stimulate me more and more every day to all
kinds of sacrifices, even to the giving up my life should it be necessary;
that I may not be unworthy of the favourable conception and of the
recompence with which the worthy representatives of so magnanimous a nation
have to-day honoured me. Receive, gentlemen, this frank manifestation of my
sentiments, and of my fervent vows for the felicity of the republic, with
the most sincere protestations of my eternal gratitude."
"The liveliest emotions of satisfaction" (I still quote from the _Díario_)
"followed this expressive discourse. Joy was painted on every countenance.
The frank satisfaction which every one felt gave to this act a solemnity
which words are incapable of describing. His Excellency, accompanied by the
corporations and by a brilliant and numerous concourse, then passed to the
hall of the court-martial, to put in possession of his Excellency General
D. Gabriel Valencia the sword of honour which the august national
representation had granted him, for his loyal and valiant conduct in the
affair of July of 1840. His Excellency the President began this ceremony by
expressing his sentiments to his Excellency the _Gefe de la plana mayor_
(head of the staff), in these terms:
"Citizen General:--In this day, the most flattering of my life, in which
the august representatives of the nation have just put me in possession of
the rewards granted to my small services, I fulfil the law which imposes
upon me the grateful task of presenting you with the sword of honour, with
which their munificence has also chosen to remunerate yours.
"Receive it as the distinguished reward of your loyalty, and of the valour
with which you fought at that memorable period, from the 15th to the 26th
of July, defending with bravery the constitution and supreme powers of the
Republic. I congratulate myself with you, not doubting that you will always
employ the edge of this steel in defence of the honour, of the sacred
rights, and of the laws of this country. Yes, general, of this beloved
country, to whom we owe all kinds of sacrifices; yes, of this beloved
mother, who now more than ever reclaims the fraternal union of all her
children, to conquer the internal and external enemies who oppose her
felicity and aggrandizement, let us pledge ourselves to correspond
thankfully to the generosity with which the representatives of the nation
have rewarded us, and let us march united in the same path which honour and
duty traced out for us, in that day of honourable memory for the defenders
of the laws. Eternal praise to the brave soldiers and citizens who co-
operated with us in the establishment of order!"
To which General Valencia replied:--"That a correspondent reward should
follow an heroic action, nothing more natural; but to remunerate a service
which does not go beyond the sphere of ordinary things, such as mine in the
affair of the 15th to the 26th of July of 1840, by such a noble distinction
as the sword of honour with which your Excellency has deigned to gird me,
in the name of the National Congress, of this the magnanimity of the
sovereignty is alone capable; and so it is that I remain annihilated by a
present worthy of the ages of the Roman Senate and Republic. What did I do,
your Excellency, in those days, that any one of my countrymen would not
have done better? Nothing, sir; so that, in receiving this sword of honour,
my confusion equals my doubt as to my place in the gratitude of the
congress which has given it to me, of your Excellency who has deigned to
present it to me, and of my worthy countrymen who bestowed it that I might
wear it.
"In this condition, your Excellency, of content and satisfaction, I can say
no more, but that I hope your Excellency will manifest to congress my
eternal gratitude; that your Excellency will receive my noble
acknowledgments, and my companions the assurance that every time I put it
on I shall remember the names of all and each of them who accompanied me on
the 15th of July of 1840, together with the pleasure that to them I owe so
great a mark of respect."
Amongst the congratulations given to the president, the following
"congratulation from his Excellency General Valencia to his Excellency the
President, on his receiving the decoration of the cross of honour from
congress," is very remarkable. "God said, the first day of the creation of
the world, when it was in a state of chaos, _'Let there be light, and there
was light.' And God saw his work and pronounced it good!_ With how much
more reason ought the garrison of Mexico to do so every day in which, by
any action, the 15th of July 1840 is celebrated--in which, by their
strength and heroic valour, that passage of Genesis was politically
repeated in this capital. Society arose in chaos. Its president is taken.
Authorities no longer exist, and those who ought to save them are converted
into their oppressors. '_God said let there be light, and there was
light_!' The honourable troops, reunited in the citadel, in the midst of
chaos, said 'Let order be re-established--let the supreme magistrate be set
at liberty, and let things resume their proper march.' Order _was_ re-
established, your Excellency was set free, and the political body followed
the regular path, without which no society exists. So it is that those
worthy troops who thus said, thus undertook, and thus accomplished, now
also resemble the Creator of the world (_hoy tambien se asememejan al
Criador del mundo_) in his content, when satisfied with his work.
"The cross which has been worthily placed on your Excellency's breast this
day, reflects in such a singular manner upon the hearts of the valiant men
of that period (_reflecta de un modo tan singular sobre los corazones de
los valientes de aquella época_), that their souls are expanded in
contemplating it, by the honour which results to them from it.
"May your Excellency be happy one and a thousand times, with such a noble
and worthy decoration. Let your Excellency receive in it the sincere
congratulations of the garrison of Mexico, which figures in each stone of
this cross, like the stars in the firmament."
"This ceremony being concluded, the two rewarded generals presented
themselves on the principal balcony of the palace, in front of which passed
the brilliant column of honour; at its head marched the commandant-general,
Don Valentin Canalizo; and the brilliancy, neatness, and elegance, which
all the corps of the garrison displayed, is above all praise. When the
regiment had passed, a sumptuous entertainment was served in one of the
halls of the Minister of War, in which elegance, good taste, and propriety,
rivalled one another; while repeated toasts showed the most sincere joy,
united with the most patriotic and fraternal sentiments. Rain having begun
to fall at about three in the afternoon, the paseo was on this account not
so crowded as might have been expected; nevertheless, the military bands
were present, and at six in the evening their Excellencies Generals
Bustamante and Valencia having presented themselves there, were received
with _vivas_ and universal joy.
"At night the chiefs and officers of the _plana mayor_ gave a ball in the
college of the Mineria; and the theatre of New Mexico dedicated its
entertainment to his Excellency the President. Nothing disturbed the joy of
this day; one sentiment alone of union and cheerfulness overflowed in the
capital, proving to those illustrious generals the unanimous applause with
which Mexicans see their country reward the distinguished services of their
children, who are so deserving of their love and gratitude."
Notwithstanding the ineffable joy which, according to the _Díario_, is
generally felt on this occasion, there are many who doubt the policy of
this celebration, at a time when the troops are unpaid--when the soldiers,
wounded at the last _pronunciamiento_, are refused their pensions, while
the widows and orphans of others are vainly suing for assistance. "At the
best," say those who cavil on the subject, "it was a civil war--a war
between brothers--a subject of regret and not of glory--of sadness and not
of jubilee." As for General Valencia's congratulation to the president, in
which he compares the "honourable troops" to the Supreme Being, the
re-establishment of order in Mexico to the creation of the world from
chaos, it is chiefly incomprehensible. Perhaps he is carried away by his
joy and gratitude, and personal affection for Bustamante--perhaps he has
taken a leaf from a translation of _Bombastes Furioso_.
One thing is certain: the whole affair had a brilliant appearance; and the
handsome carriages, fine horses, gaily-dressed officers and soldiers,
together with the military music and the crowds of people collected,
produced an imposing effect.
LETTER THE FORTY-SECOND
Italian Opera--Artists, Male and Female--Prima Donna--Lucia de
Lammermoor--Some Disappointment--Second Representation--Improvement--Romeo
and Giulietta--La Ricci--La Señora Cesari--The Mint--False
Coining--Repetition of Lucia--Procession by Night--A Spanish
Beauty--Discriminating Audience--A little Too Simple--Gold
Embroidery--Santiago--Pilgrims--Old Indian Custom--Soiree--Mexico by
Moonlight--Mysterious Figure--Archbishop--Viceroy.
13th July.
We little expected to be still here at the opening of the new Italian
opera, and had consequently given up our box. Señor Roca, who went to Italy
to bring out the _requisites_, has arrived at the end of a wonderfully
short period, with the singers, male and female, the new dresses,
decorations, etc.; and the first opera, Lucia de Lammermoor, was given last
week. The theatre is the former _Teatro des Gallos_, an octagonal circus,
which has been fitted up as elegantly as circumstances would permit, and as
the transition from the crowing of cocks to the soft notes of _Giulietta_
rendered necessary. The _prima donna assoluta_ is the Signora Anaide
Castellan de Giampietro, born in Paris, bred in Milan. The _prima donna
soprano_ is the Signora de Ricci; and the second _donna_ is called
Branzanti. The first tenor is Signor Giampietro, husband to the prima
donna; and the second tenor is the Signor Alberti Bozetti. The first bass
is Signor Tomassi, and the buffo bass Signor Spontini. They have been so
much _prone_, and public expectation has been so much excited, that we
supposed it probable that the first evening at least would be a failure to
a certain extent. Besides, the Mexican audience, if not very experienced,
is decidedly musical; and they have already had a pretty good opera here,
have heard Madame Albini, la Cesari, Garcia (the father of Malibran) and
the _beux restes_ of Galli; therefore can compare.
The first evening, the Castellan made her appearance as _Lucia_. She is
about twenty; slight and fair, with black hair, graceful, and with a very
sweet, clear, and pure young voice, also very correct. The tenor rests upon
his wife's laurels. He looks well, but little more can be said in his
praise. Tomassi has some good notes, and a fine figure. Of the others who
sang that evening there is little to be said. The theatre is extremely well
got up, the dresses are new and rich, and the decorations and scenery
remarkably good. The public, however, were disappointed. They had prepared
for wonders, and were not satisfied with a fair performance. The applauses
were few and far between. The Castellan was not called for, and the
following day a certain degree of discontent pervaded the aristocracy of
the capital.
At the second representation of the same opera things mended. The voice of
La Castellan was appreciated. Applauses were loud and long, and at the end
of the opera she and the director were called for and received with
enthusiasm. She seems likely to become a favourite.
Last evening we had Romeo and Giulietta, in which La Ricci and La Cesari
made their appearance, the former as Giulietta, the latter as Romeo. The
Ricci is a thin young woman, with a long, pale face, black eyes and hair,
long neck and arms, and large hands; extremely pretty, it is said, off the
stage, but very ineffective on it; but both on and off with a very
distinguished air. Her voice is extensive, but wanting cultivation, and
decidedly _pea-hennish_; besides that, she is apt to go out of tune. Her
style of dress was excessively unbecoming to her style of beauty. She wore
a tight white gown, a tight blue satin-peaked body, with long tight blue
sleeves. The public were indulgent, but it was evident that they were
disappointed.
La Cesari, highly married, and who for the last three years has not
appeared upon the stage, came out as _Romeo_, with tunic and mantle, white
silk stockings, hat, and feathers, etc. She was very much frightened and
ill at ease, and it required all the applause with which the public greeted
the _entree_ of their former favourite to restore her to self-possession.
She looked remarkably well--tall, handsome, beautifully formed, rather
pale, with fine dark eyes, dark hair, and _moustaches_. Her acting was
greatly superior, as much so as was her beauty to any of the others. She
has more knowledge of the theatre, more science, taste, and energy, than
any of them; but her voice, a soft contralto, is out of use and feeble. The
theatre, besides, is ill-constructed for the voice, and must have a bad
effect upon the fulness and tone. On the whole, it seems doubtful whether
the opera will endure long. Were we going to remain here, I should trust
that it might be supported, for, with all its faults and drawbacks, it is
decidedly the best public exhibition in Mexico. The _coup d'oeil_ was
exceedingly pretty, as all the boxes were crowded, and the ladies were in
full dress.
July 20th.--As we are living in the mint, the directors have called on us;
and this morning they came to invite us to descend into the lower regions
to see the silver coined. We went all over this immense establishment, a
fine picture of decayed magnificence, built about one hundred and ten years
ago by the Spaniards. Dirty, ill-kept, the machinery rude, the workmen
discontented; its fine vaulted roofs, that look like the interior of a
cathedral, together with that _grandiose_ style which distinguished the
buildings of the Spaniards in Mexico, form a strong contrast with the
occupants.
We saw the silver bars stretched out, the dollars cut and whitened and
stamped; and in one place we saw the machines for _coining false money_,
which have been collected in such numbers that there is hardly room for
them! We saw the place where the silver and gold is tested; and the room
with the medals, amongst which are some ancient Roman, Persian, and
English, but especially Spanish, and many of the time of Charles III.; when
we were looking at which, an old gentleman exclaimed, "Would to Heaven
those days would return!" without doubt the general feeling. This old man
had been forty-four years in the Casa de Moneda, and had lived under
several viceroys. He could remember, when a boy, being sent with a
commission to the Viceroy Revillagigedo, and being very much frightened,
but soon reassured by the kind reception of the representative of majesty.
He spoke of the flourishing condition of the mint in those days, which
coined twenty-seven millions annually, and was a royal house. He said that
the viceroys used to praise them and thank them for their exertions; that
the house was then kept in the most perfect order, the principal officers
wearing a uniform, etc.
Hereupon another old gentleman took up the theme, and improved upon it; and
told us, that, on one occasion, they had one million three hundred thousand
dollars' worth of gold in the house; and described the visit of the
vice-queen Yturriguary, who came to see it, and sat down and looked round
her in amazement at the quantity of gold she saw accumulated. This old
gentleman had been thirty years in the mint, and seemed as though he had
never been anywhere else; as if he were part and parcel in it, and had been
coined, and beat out, and clipped there.
Hearing him, another fat man, rather unclipt-looking than otherwise, began
to bewail the state of the times, till it was a chorus universal, where all
sang in one key. One had a very large, underhanging lip, with a kind of
tragi-comic countenance, and was constantly making lugubrious puns.
Another, who seemed bred to the mint, (though by his account the mint was
not _bread_ to him,) was insatiably curious, as a man born in a mint might
be. We passed about three hours in a mixture of admiration of the past and
sorrow for the present, and were reconducted to our domicile by the poor
_employes,_ who seemed to think that a Spanish Minister was the next best
to a Spanish viceroy, or of anything they had seen for some time.
"The Past is nothing; and at last,
The Future will but be the Past,"
says Lord Byron. Here the past is everything; and the future?--Answer it
who can.
We were assured, while wondering at the number of machines for false
coining which had been collected, that there are twice that number now in
full force in Mexico; but that they belong to such distinguished
personages, the government is afraid to interfere with them. Besides this,
there is now no sufficient punishment for this crime, a capital offence in
the days of the Spanish government. A lady here is said to have exclaimed
with much simplicity on hearing her husband accused of false coining, "I
really wonder why they make so much noise about it. It seems to me that my
husband's copper is as good as any other!"
24th.--We went last evening to the opera, which was a repetition of Lucia,
as it appears they cannot venture, in the face of public disapprobation, to
repeat Romeo and Giulietta at present. As we were passing through the
square, the carriage suddenly drew up, the coachman and footman uncovered
their heads, and an immense procession came passing along the cathedral,
with lights and military music. There were officers in full uniform, with
their heads uncovered, a long file of monks and priests, and a carriage
carrying the host, surrounded by hundreds of people on foot, all bearing
lighted torches. A band of military music accompanied the procession, all
which astonished us, as it was no fête-day. When, at length, being able to
pass along, we arrived at the opera, we were informed that they were
carrying the _viaticum_ to a rich acquaintance of ours, a general, who has
been indisposed for some time, and whose illness has now exhibited fatal
symptoms.
For him, then, these great cathedral bells are tolling heavily; for him,
the torches and the pompous procession--the sandalled monks, and the
officers in military array; while two bands of music are playing at his
door and another in front of the cathedral, and in the midst of these
sounds of monkish hymn and military music, the soul is preparing to wing
its flight alone and unattended.
But the sweet notes of Lucia drown all other from our ears, if not from our
thoughts. In a house not many hundred yards off, they Minister the host to
the dying man, while here, La Castellan, with her pretty French graces and
Italian singing, is drawing tears from our eyes for fictitious sorrows.
The theatre was pretty well filled, though there were some empty boxes,
sights more hideous in the eyes of actors than toothless mouths. We sat
with Madame la Baronne de -----, and nearly opposite was Madame -----,
related to the "_Principe de la Paz_," a handsome woman, with a fine
Bohemian cast of face, dark in complexion, with glittering teeth, brilliant
eyes, and dark hair. La Castellan sang very well, with much clearness,
precision, and facility. She is certainly graceful and pretty, but, except
in her method, more French than Italian. Her style suits Lucia, but I doubt
her having _l'air noble_ sufficient for a Norma or a Semiramis. The bass
improves upon acquaintance, but the handsome tenor is nought. The audience
seemed to me both indulgent and discriminating. They applauded the pretty
prima donna _con furor_; they praised the bass when he deserved it, the
tenor when it was possible; but where he sang false, nothing could extort
from them a solitary _viva_. This discrimination makes their applause worth
having, and proceeds less from experience or cultivation, than from a
_musical instinct_.
In a visit we made this morning, we were shown a piece of embroidery,
which, from its splendour and good taste, is worthy of observation, though
by no means uncommon here. We went to call on the wife of a judge, who
showed us all through their beautiful house, which looks out on the
Alameda. In one of the rooms, their daughter was engaged on a piece of
embroidery for the altar of the chapel. The ground was the very richest and
thickest white satin; the design was a garland of vine-leaves, with bunches
of grapes. The vine-leaves were beautifully embroidered in fine gold, and
the grapes were composed of amethysts. I can conceive nothing richer and
more tasteful than the general effect. The gold embroidery done in Mexico
is generally very beautiful, and there are many ladies who embroider in
great perfection. There is an amazing quantity of it used in the churches,
and in military uniforms. I have also seen beautiful gold-embroidered
ball-dresses, but they are nearly out of fashion.... We hear that
General -----, though still ill, is likely to recover.
25th.--This being the day of Santiago, the patron saint of Spain, C---n was
invited by the padres to San Francisco to attend mass in the church there.
We were shown to the tribuna (gallery) of the Countess de Santiago, where
they gave us chairs, and put down a piece of carpet. C---n and the rest of
the legation were in the body of the church, in velvet chairs, with lighted
tapers in their hands. The saint was carried in procession, going out by
the principal door, making a tour of the streets, and returning by a side
door. The music was pretty good, especially one soprano voice. Twelve
little boys were placed on crimson velvet benches, on either side of the
altar, representing pilgrims of Galicia (of which Santiago is the capital),
handsome little fellows, belonging to respectable families, dressed in
robes of dark green or crimson, or violet-coloured velvet, with falling
lace collars, and the neck ornamented with gold and silver shells; a large
pilgrim's hat fastened on behind, and hanging down, and in their hands
staffs with gold bells. They were beautiful children, and all behaved with
becoming gravity and decorum during the ceremony, walking with much dignity
in the procession.
After the _función_, we went out to Santiago, an old church near Mexico,
where the Indians annually come in procession on this day, and sell their
fruit, flowers, pulque, etc. All the waste ground near the church was
covered with green booths, and there was a great crowd of carriages and
horsemen, and people on foot. The troops were drawn out, escorting the
procession to the church. But though the scene was curious, as the remnant
of an old-established ceremony, and the Indians, with their booths and
flowers, and great show of fruit, were all very picturesque, the sun was so
intense, that after walking about a little while, and buying tunas and nuts
and peaches, we returned home, together with the Guera Rodriguez, who was
in the carriage with us, and giving us a lively description of what this
fête used to be in former days. Had a visit the same morning from the
Señora M----, whom I think even handsomer by daylight, than she appeared to
be at the opera; not always the case with dark beauties.
26th.-Another representation of Vaccaj's Romeo and Giulietta, with the
second appearance of La Ricci. Music and Ricci seem considered a failure.
The Señora Cesari made the handsomest of Romeos, as usual, but was ill, and
out of spirits. The opera as a whole was coldly received; the boxes and pit
were nearly empty, and La Ricci seems unlikely to gain any favour with the
public, though it must be confessed that she looked better, was more
becomingly dressed, and both sang and acted better than the preceding
night. Yesterday we went to a _soirée_ at the ----- Minister's. Madame
Castellan and her tenor were there, and had come from a dinner given by a
rich curate to the whole _corps operatique_, from the prima donna down to
the _joueur du fagote_, and even to the tailor who makes the opera dresses,
and his wife. This rich padre, it is said, spends a great part of his
fortune in entertaining actors and singers. La Castellan (permission to
that effect having been obtained from the manager, for it is against their
agreement to perform in private houses) sang several airs to the piano,
with much expression, especially from _Robert le Díable_; and _Nina Pazza
per Amore_; but I prefer her voice in the theatre. She is not at all
beautiful, but has a charming face with a very musical expression.
We returned home by moonlight, the most flattering medium through which
Mexico can be viewed; with its broad and silent streets, and splendid old
buildings, whose decay and abandonment are softened by the silvery light;
its ancient churches, from which the notes of the organ occasionally come
pealing forth, mingled with faint blasts of music borne on the night wind
from some distant procession; or with the soft music of a hymn from some
neighbouring convent. The white-robed monk--the veiled female--even the
ragged beggar, add to the picture; by daylight his rags are too visible.
Frequently, as the carriages roll along to the opera, or as, at a late
hour, they return from it, they are suddenly stopped by the appearance of
the mysterious coach, with its piebald mules, and the _Eye_ surrounded by
rays of light on its panels; a melancholy apparition, for it has come from
the house of mourning, probably from the bed of death. Then, by the
moonlight, the kneeling figures on the pavement seemed as if carved in
stone. The city of Mexico by moonlight--the environs of Mexico at daybreak
--these are the hours for viewing both to advantage, and for making us feel
how
"All but the spirit of man is divine."
In front of our house, I should say of _the Mint_, is the archbishop's
palace, and in front of this palace an object which has greatly excited our
curiosity. It is an old man, who, whether as a penance, or from some motive
which we do not know, kneels, wrapt in his serape, beside the wall of the
_Arzobispado_ from sunset till midnight, or later--for we have frequently
gone out at nine in the evening, and left him kneeling there; and on our
return at one in the morning have found him in the same position. He asks
no alms, but kneels there silent and motionless, hour after hour, as if in
the performance of some vow....
We made a call this evening on the archbishop in his own palace, an
enormously large building; a sort of street, like this Casa de Moneda. He
received us very cordially, and looked very comfortable without his robes
of state, in a fine cloth dressing-gown, lined with violet-coloured silk.
August 1st.--We had a visit last evening from one of the directors of the
mint, a curious and most original genius, a Mexican, who has served nearly
thirty years in that and other capacities, and who, after speaking of the
different viceroys he had seen, proceeded to give us various anecdotes of
the Viceroy Revillagigedo, the most honoured for his justice, renowned for
his energy, and feared for his severity, of the whole dynasty. Our friend
was moved to enthusiasm by the sight of an old-fashioned but very handsome
musical clock, which stands on a table in the drawing-room, and which he
says was brought over by this viceroy, and was no doubt considered a
miracle of art in those days.
Some of the anecdotes he told us are already generally known here, but his
manner of telling them was very interesting, and he added various
particulars which we had not heard before. Besides, the stories themselves
seem to me so curious and characteristic, that however much they lose by
being tamely written instead of _dramatized_ as they are by him, I am
tempted to give you one or two specimens. But my letter is getting beyond
all ordinary limits, and your curiosity will no doubt keep cool till the
arrival of another packet.
LETTER THE FORTY-THIRD
Revillagigedo--The False Merchant and the Lady--The Viceroy, the Unjust
Spaniard, the Indian, and the Golden Ounces--Horrible Murder--Details--
Oath--Country Family--The Spot of Blood--The Mother unknowingly denounces
her Son--Arrest of _the Three_--Confession--Execution--The Viceroy fulfils
his Pledge--Paving of the Streets--Severity to the Monks--Solitary Damsel
--Box on the Ear--Pension--Morning Concert--New Minister--"Street of the
Sad Indian"--Traditions--A Farewell Audience--Inscription on a Tomb.
August 3rd.
A lady of fortune, owing to some combination of circumstances, found
herself in difficulties, and in immediate want of a small sum of money. Don
----- being her _compadre_, and a respectable merchant, she went to him to
state her necessities, and offered him a case of valuable jewels as
security for repayment, provided he would advance her eight hundred
dollars. He agreed, and the bargain was concluded without any written
document, the lady depositing her jewels and receiving the sum. At the end
of a few months, her temporary difficulties being ended, she went to her
_compadre's_ house to repay the money, and receive back her jewels. The man
readily received the money, but declared to his astonished _comadre_, that
as to the jewels, he had never heard of them, and that no such transaction
had taken place. The Señora, indignant at the merchant's treachery,
instantly repaired to the palace of the vice-king hoping for justice from
this Western Solomon, though unable to conceive how it could be obtained.
She was instantly received by Revillagigedo, who listened attentively to
her account of the circumstances. "Had you no witnesses?" said the count.
"None," replied she. "Did no servant pass in or out during the
transaction?" "No one." The viceroy reflected a moment. "Does your compadre
smoke?" "No, sir," said the lady, astonished at this irrelevant question,
and perhaps the more so, as the count's aversion to smoking was so well
known, that none of his smoking subjects ventured to approach him without
having taken every precaution to deaden any odour of the fragrant weed
which might lurk about their clothes or person. "Does he take snuff?" said
the viceroy. "Yes, your Excellency," said his visitor, who probably feared
that for once his Excellency's wits were wool-gathering. "That is
sufficient," said the viceroy; "retire into the adjoining chamber and _keep
quiet_--your jewels shall be restored." His Excellency then despatched a
messenger for the merchant, who immediately presented himself.
"I have sent for you," said the viceroy, "that we may talk over some
matters in which your mercantile knowledge may be of use to the state." The
merchant was overwhelmed with gratitude and joy; while the viceroy entered
into conversation with him upon various affairs connected with his
profession. Suddenly the viceroy put his hand first in one pocket, then in
the other, with the air of a man who has mislaid something. "Ah!" said he,
"my snuff-box. Excuse me for a moment while I go to fetch it from the next
room." "Sir!" said the merchant, "permit me to have the honour of offering
my box to your Excellency." His Excellency received it as if mechanically,
holding it in his hand and talking, till pretexting some business, he went
out, and calling an officer, desired him to take that snuff-box to the
merchant's house, asking his wife as from him, by that token, to deliver to
the bearer a case of jewels which he had there. The viceroy returned to the
apartment where he had left his flattered guest, and remained in
conversation with him until the officer returned, and requesting private
speech of the viceroy, delivered to him a jewel-case which he had received
from the merchant's wife.
Revillagigedo then returned to his fair complainant, and under pretence of
showing her some rooms in the palace, led her into one, where amongst many
objects of value, the jewel-case stood open. No sooner had she cast her
eyes upon it than she started forward in joy and amazement. The viceroy
requested her to wait there a little longer, and returned to his other
guest. "Now," said he, "before going further, I wish to hear the truth
concerning another affair in which you are interested. Are you acquainted
with the Señora de -----?" "Intimately, sir--she is my _comadre_." "Did you
lend her eight hundred dollars, at such a date?" "I did." "Did she give you
a case of jewels in pledge?" "Never," said the merchant, vehemently. "The
money was lent without any security; merely as an act of friendship, and
she has invented a story concerning some jewels, which has not the
slightest foundation." In vain the viceroy begged him to reflect, and not,
by adding falsehood to treachery, force him to take measures of severity.
The merchant with oaths persisted in his denial. The viceroy left the room
suddenly, and returned with the jewel-case in his hand; at which unexpected
apparition, the astonished merchant changed colour, and entirely lost his
presence of mind. The viceroy ordered him from his presence, with a severe
rebuke for his falsehood and treachery, and an order never again to enter
the palace. At the same time he commanded him to send him, the next
morning, eight hundred dollars with five hundred more; which he did, and
which were, by the viceroy's order, distributed amongst the hospitals. His
Excellency is said to have added a severe reprimand to the lady, for having
made a bargain without writing.
Another story which I recollect, is as follows: A poor Indian appeared
before the viceroy, and stated that he had found in the street a bag full
of golden ounces, which had been advertised with the promise of a handsome
reward to the person who should restore them to the owner; that upon
carrying them to this Don -----, he had received the bag, counted the
ounces, extracted two, which he had seen him slip into his pocket; and had
then reproached the poor man with having stolen part of the money, had
called him a thief and a rascal, and, instead of rewarding, had driven him
from the house. With the viceroy there was no delay. Immediate action was
his plan. Detaining the Indian, he despatched an officer to desire the
attendance of Don ----- with his bag of ounces. He came, and the viceroy
desired him to relate the circumstances, his practised eye reading his
falsehood at a glance. "May it please your Excellency, I lost a bag
containing gold. The Indian, now in your Excellency's presence, brought it
to me in hopes of a reward, having first stolen part of its contents. I
drove him from the house as a thief, who, instead of recompense, deserves
punishment."
"Stay," said the viceroy, "there is some mistake here. How many ounces were
there in the bag you lost?" "Twenty-eight." "And how many are here?" "But
twenty-six." "Count them down. I see it is as you say. The case is clear,
and we have all been mistaken. Had this Indian been a thief, he would never
have brought back the bag, and stolen merely two ounces. He would have kept
the whole. It is evident that this is not your bag but another which this
poor man has found. Sir, our interview is at an end. Continue to search for
your bag of gold; and as for you, friend, since we cannot find the true
owner, sweep up these twenty-six pieces and carry them away. They are
yours." So saying, his Excellency bowed out the discomfited cheat and the
overjoyed rustic. Mr. ----- says that this story, he thinks, is taken from
something similar in an oriental tale. However, it _may_ have occurred
twice.
A horrible murder took place in 1789, during the vice-royaltyship of
Revillagigedo, which is remarkable in two particulars; the trifling
circumstances which led to its discovery, and the energy displayed by the
viceroy, contrasting strongly with the tardy execution of justice in our
days. There lived in Mexico at that period, in the street of _Cordovanes_,
No. 15, a rich merchant of the name of Don Joaquin Dongo. A clerk named
José Joaquin Blanco, who had formerly been in his office, having fallen
into vicious courses, and joined in companionship with two other young men,
Filipe Aldama and Baltazar Quintero gamblers and cock-fighters (with
reverence be it spoken) like himself, formed, in concert with them, a plan
for robbing his former master.
They accordingly repaired to the house one evening when they knew that
Dongo was from home, and imitating the signal which Blanco knew the
coachman was in the habit of making to the porter when the carriage
returned at night, the doors were immediately thrown open, and the robbers
entered. The porter was their first victim. He was thrown down and stabbed.
A postman, who was waiting with letters for the return of the master of the
house, was the next, and then the cook, and so on, until eleven lay
weltering in their blood. The wretches then proceeded to pick the locks of
the different bureaux, guided by Blanco, who, in his former capacity, had
made himself _au fait_ of all the secrets of the house. They obtained
twenty-two thousand dollars in specie, and about seven thousand dollars'
worth of plate.
Meanwhile the unfortunate master of the house returned home, and at the
accustomed signal the doors were opened by the robbers, and on the entrance
of the carriage, instantly relocked. Seeing the porter bathed in blood, and
dead bodies lying at the foot of the staircase, he comprehended at once his
desperate situation, and advancing to Aldama, who stood near the door, he
said, "My life is in your hands; but for God's sake, show some mercy, and
do not murder me in cold blood. Say what sums of money you want. Take all
that is in the house, and leave me, and I swear to keep your secret."
Aldama consented, and Dongo passed on. As he ascended the stairs, stepping
over the body of the postman, he encountered Quintero, and to him he made
the same appeal, with the same success; when Blanco, springing forward,
held his sword to Quintero's breast, and swearing a great oath, exclaimed,
"If you do not stab him, I will kill you on the spot!" Conceive, for one
moment, the situation of the unfortunate Dongo, surrounded by the murdered
and the murderers in his own house, at the dead of the night, and without a
hope of assistance! The suspense was momentary. Thus adjured, Quintero
stabbed him to the heart.
The murderers then collected their spoil, and it being still dark, two of
them got into Dongo's carriage, the third acting as coachman, and so drove
swiftly out of the gates of the city, till, arriving at a deserted spot,
not far from a village, they turned the carriage and mules adrift, and
buried their treasure, which they transported afterwards to a house in the
Calle de la Aguila (the street of the eagle), No. 23; and went about their
avocations in the morning, as if nothing had occurred. Meanwhile, the
public consternation may be conceived, when the morning dawned upon this
bloody tragedy. As for the viceroy, he swore that the murderers should be
discovered, and hanged before his eyes, that day week.
Immediately the most energetic measures were taken, and the gates of the
city shut, to prevent all egress. Orders were given through all the
different districts of the capital, that every guest, or visitor, or
boarder, whether in inn or lodging, or private house, should have their
names given up to the police, with an account of their condition,
occupation, motives for living in Mexico, etc. Strict cognizance was taken
in all the villages near the capital, of every person who had passed
through, or entered, or left the village within a certain space of time.
All the roads near the capital were scoured by parties of soldiers. Every
hidden place was searched by the police; every suspected house entered. The
funeral of the ill-fated Dongo and of the other victims, took place the
following day; and it was afterwards remembered that Aldama was there
amongst the foremost, remarking and commenting upon this horrible wholesale
butchery, and upon the probabilities of discovering the murderers.
A country family from a neighbouring village, hearing of all these doings
in Mexico, and with that love of the marvellous which characterizes persons
uneducated, or unaccustomed to the world, determined to pay a visit to the
capital, and to hear at the fountain head, all these wonderful stories,
which had probably reached them under a hundred exaggerated forms. No
sooner had they entered their lodgings, than they were visited and examined
by the police, and their deposition taken down as to their motives for
visiting the capital, their place of birth, etc. As a gratuitous piece of
information, one of them mentioned, that, passing by a barber's shop
(probably with his eyes opened wide in the expectation of seeing horrible
sights), he had observed a man talking to the barber, who had a stain of
blood upon his _queue_ (hair being then worn powdered and tied behind).
Trifling as this circumstance appears to us, the viceroy ordered that the
person who mentioned it should instantly conduct the police officers to the
shop where he had observed it. The shop being found, the barber was
questioned as to what persons he had been conversing with that morning, and
mentioned about half-a-dozen; amongst others _Aldama_, who did not bear a
very good reputation. Aldama was sent for, confronted with the man who gave
the information, identified as the same, and the stain of blood being
observed, he was immediately committed to prison upon suspicion. Being
questioned as to the cause of the stain, he replied, that being at a
cock-fight, on such a day, at such an hour, the blood from one of the dying
cocks, which he held, had spirted up, and stained the collar of his shirt
and his hair. Inquiries being made at the cock-pit, this was corroborated
by several witnesses, and extraordinary as it is, it is most probable that
the _assertion was true_.
But meanwhile, the mother of Blanco, deeply distressed at the dissolute
courses of her son, took the resolution (which proves more than anything
else Revillagigedo's goodness, and the confidence which all classes had in
him) to consult the viceroy as to the means of converting the young man to
better habits. It seems as if the hand of an avenging Providence had
conducted this unfortunate mother to take a step so fatal to her son. She
told the viceroy that she had in vain attempted to check him, that his days
and nights were spent with profligate companions in gambling-houses and in
cock-pits, and that she feared some mischief would come some day from his
fighting and swearing and drinking; that but a few days since he had come
home late, and that she had observed that his stockings were _dabbled in
blood_; that she had questioned him upon it, and that he had answered
surlily he had got it in the cock-pit. Her narration was hardly concluded,
before Blanco was arrested and placed in a separate cell of the same prison
with Aldama. Shortly after, Quintero, only as being the intimate friend and
companion of both parties, was taken up on suspicion and lodged in the same
prison; all being separately confined, and no communication permitted
between them.
It seems as if Quintero, perhaps the least hardened of the three, was
struck with the conviction that, in the extraordinary combination of
circumstances which had led to the arrest of himself and his companions in
villany, the finger of God was too distinctly visible to permit a doubt of
ultimate discovery to rest upon his mind, for he confessed at once, and
declaring that he saw all denial was useless, gave a circumstantial account
of the whole. He begged for nine days' grace to prepare himself for death,
but the viceroy would grant but three. When Aldama confessed, he made the
avowal that he was guilty of a previous murder, when he was alcalde of a
village near Mexico, which was before the time of Revillagigedo, and for
which he had been tried and acquitted. He being alcalde, the postman of the
village was in the habit of passing by his house, giving him an account of
whatever money he had collected, etc. One evening this man stopped at
Aldama's, and told him he was intrusted with a sum of fifteen hundred
dollars to carry to a neighbouring village. At twelve o'clock he left
Aldama's house, who, taking a short cut across the fields, reached the
postman by this other direction, stabbed him, and carried back the money.
Next day, when the murder was made known, the alcalde, in his robes of
justice, visited the body, and affected to institute a strict search for
the murderer. Nevertheless he was suspected and arrested, but escaped by
bribery, and shortly after, leaving the village, came to the wider theatre
of Mexico.
The murderers having thus made their confession, were ordered to prepare
for death. A scaffold erected between the central gate of the palace, and
that which is now the principal gate of the city guards, was hung with
black to denote that the criminals were of noble blood. An immense crowd
were assembled; and the viceroy, standing on the balcony of his palace,
witnessed the execution in the great square, the _very day week_ that the
murders were committed.
The streets were then kept in perfect order, both as to paving and
lighting; and on one occasion, having rode all through the city, as was his
custom, to observe whether everything was in order for the holy week, he
observed that several parts of the different streets were unpaved, and out
of repair; whereupon, sending for the head of the police, he desired that
these streets should be paved and in order before the holy week, of which
it wanted but a few days. The officer declared the thing to be impossible.
The viceroy ordered it to be done, on the penalty of losing his place.
Early on the morning of Palm Sunday, he sent to know if all was in
readiness; and as the bells tolled for early mass, the last stone was laid
on the Calle San Francisco, which completed the work....
It is said he frequently went about _incog_., attended by one or two
aides-de-camp, by which means, like another Haroun Al Raschid, he was
enabled to discover and correct hidden abuses. By his orders, no monk could
be out of his convent after vespers. Walking one evening along the streets,
he encountered a monk in the Calle San Francisco, taking his pleasure long
after the appointed hour. The viceroy walked directly to the convent; and
on making himself known, was received by the abbot with all due respect.
"How many monks have you in your convent, father?" asked the viceroy.
"Fifty, your Excellency." "There are now only forty-nine. Call them over,
see which is the missing brother, and let his name be struck out." The list
was produced--the names called over, and only forty-five monks presented
themselves. By order of the viceroy, the five who had broken through the
rules, were never again admitted into the convent. Alas! could his
Excellency have lived in these our degenerate days, and beheld certain
monks of a certain order drinking pulque and otherwise disporting
themselves! nay, seen one, as we but just now did from the window,
strolling along the street by lamplight, with an _Yntida_ (Indian girl)
tucked under his arm!....
One more anecdote of the "immortal Revillagigedo," and I have done. It was
very late at night, when not far from the gate of the city called "The
lost child," (in commemoration of that period when "_the child Jesús
tarried behind in Jerusalem_," and that his parents sought for him
sorrowing,) his Excellency encountered a good-looking damsel, walking
briskly and alone, at these untimely hours; yet withal quiet and modest in
her demeanour. Wishing to try the temper of her steel (or brass) he left
his officers a little way behind; and perhaps they were not astonished....
"Oh! by no means, certainly not!"--when they saw the grave and severe
Revillagigedo approach the fair maiden somewhat familiarly, and request
permission to accompany her in her rambles, a proposal which was
indignantly rejected. "Anda!" (Come!) said his Excellency, "give over
these airs--you, a _mugercilla_, strolling about in search of adventures."
Imagine the feelings of his Excellency, on receiving in reply a tremendous
and well-applied box on the ear! The staff rushed forward, and were
astonished to find the viceroy with a smiling countenance, watching the
retreating steps of the adventurous damsel. "What! your Excellency--such
insolence! such audacity! such--" "Come, come," said the viceroy, "she has
proved herself worthy of our favour. Let instant inquiry be made as to her
birth and parentage, and as to her reasons for being on the streets at
this hour. They must be honest ones." The result proved the viceroy
correct in his opinion. She was a poor girl, supporting a dying mother by
giving music lessons, and obliged to trudge on foot from house to house at
all hours; and amongst her scholars was the daughter of an old lady who
lived out of the gates of the city, and from whose house, being that of
her last visited pupil, she had frequently to return late at night. On
being informed of these particulars, his Excellency ordered her a pension
of three hundred dollars per annum, to be continued to the day of her
death, and it is said she is still alive, though very old. This is making
one's fortune by a _coup de main_, or by a lucky hit!
August 6th.--This morning we had some very good music; Madame Castellan and
the tenor, and Madame Cesari having passed some hours here, together with
Madame la Baronne de ----- and a few other gentlemen and ladies. La
Castellan was very amiable, and sang beautifully, but looked pale and
fatigued. She has been very effective lately in the Somnambula. Madame
Cesari was in great beauty.
About an hour after they had gone, the new Minister and his family made
their _entree_ into Mexico. It is now, however, too late for us to return
till the autumn, as there is a great deal of fever at Vera Cruz; nor do we
entirely give up hopes, as soon as C---n shall be at leisure, of making
another journey on horseback into the interior. There are, however, rumours
of another pronunciamiento, and should this be the case, our present
quarters next to the palace will be more distinguished than agreeable.
I have always had a curiosity to know why the Calle del Indio Triste
(Street of the Sad Indian) was so called. We are on visiting terms with two
or three _houses_ in that street, and never pass those large black letters,
which tell the passenger that this is the street of "_The Sad Indian_,"
without my imagination figuring to itself that here some tragedy connected
with the conquest must have taken place. It was therefore with great joy
that I fell upon an article in the "Mosaico Mejicano," purporting to give
an explanation of this melancholy title-page to an otherwise very tolerable
(in the way of houses) but very ill-paved street, where, amongst other
handsome edifices, is the house of a rich Spaniard (Señor R---o),
remarkable for its beautiful entrance and elegant _salons_. It appears that
there are different traditions respecting it. One, that shortly after the
conquest, a rich cacique lived there, who acted as a spy on his Indian
brethren, and informed the viceroy of all their plans and combinations
against the government; but that on one occasion, having failed to inform
his patrons of an intended mutiny, they seized this pretext for
sequestrating his property:--that afterwards, poor, abandoned and despised,
he sat down in the corner of the street, weeping his misfortune and meeting
with no pity; until at length he abstained from all food for some days, and
was found dead in the corner of the street, sitting in the same melancholy
posture; that the viceroy declared his wealth crown property, and with the
intention of striking terror into the hearts of the malcontents, caused a
stone statue to be made representing the weeping Indian; that this statue
was placed at the corner of the street, with its back to the wall, and so
remained until, the house being pulled down, the statue was sent to the
Museum, where it now is; the street retaining the name of the Sad Indian.
But there is another tradition mentioned concerning the origin of the name,
more interesting and even more probable. It appears that the ground now
occupied by this street is the site of the Palace of Axayacatl, the father
of Montezuma, last Emperor of Mexico. In this spacious and magnificent
palace the Spaniards were received and lodged, and, according to
Torquemada, each in a separate apartment. There were a multitude of idols
in this dwelling, and though they had no separate temple, various feasts
were dedicated to them. After the conquest they were for the most part
broken and destroyed, and it was only lately that, by accident, the head of
the god of the waters, beautifully worked in serpentine marble, was
discovered there; still, one statue had been preserved, that of an Indian,
said to have been placed there by the Aztecs, as a memorial of their sorrow
at the death of Montezuma, to whom, on account of his misfortunes, they
gave the name of "_el Indio triste_." This was afterwards placed at the
corner of the new building erected there by the Spaniards, and gave its
name to the street. It is a melancholy looking statue, whomsoever it may
represent, of an Indian in a sitting posture, with a most dejected and
forlorn air and countenance. The material is basaltic stone.
11th.--C---n has just returned from seeing the general archives, which are
all in confusion and going to ruin. Don Ygnacio Cuevas, who has the charge
of them, has written various works--the History of the Viceroys-the
Californias, etc.--which were robbed or destroyed in the last
pronunciamiento. He related the story of Revillagigedo and the jewels, only
differing from _my_ friend's narrative in that he says it was not a
jewel-case, but a diamond bracelet. He assured C---n that Mexico in Indian
means "below this," alluding to the population who, according to tradition,
are buried beneath the _Pedregal_.
18th.--News has arrived that General Paredes _pronounced_ in Guadalajara on
the eighth of the month! Strange rumours are afloat, and it is generally
supposed that Santa Anna is or will be the prime mover of the great changes
that are predicted. By many, however, it is talked of as very trifling, as
a mere movement that will soon be put down. The plan which Paredes has
published is essentially military, but announces a congress, which renders
it very popular in the departments. It has been adopted by the departments
of Zacatecas, Durango, and Guanajvato. Meanwhile, everything continues here
as usual. We have been several times at the opera; the _paseos_ are very
crowded, and we had a musical _soirée_ the other evening, which was very
gay, but from the signs of the times, will probably be our last in Mexico.
28th.--This morning C---n took his farewell audience of the president, and
the new Minister was received.
3Oth.--These few last days have chiefly been spent in paying visits of
ceremony with the Señora -----. Nevertheless we spent an hour last evening
in the beautiful cemetery a little way out of the city, which is rather a
favourite haunt of ours, and is known as the "_Panteon de Santa María_." It
has a beautiful chapel attached to it, where the daily mass is said for the
dead, and a large garden filled with flowers. Young trees of different
kinds have been planted there, and the sight of the tombs themselves, in
their long and melancholy array of black coffins, with gold-lettered
inscriptions, even while it inspires the saddest ideas, has something
soothing in its effect. They are kept in perfect order, and the
inscriptions, though not always eloquent, are almost always full of
feeling, and sometimes extremely touching. There is one near the entrance,
which is pathetic in its native language, and though it loses much in the
translation, I shall transcribe it:
"Here lie the beloved remains of Carmen and José Pimentel y Heras. The
first died the 11th of June, 1838, aged one year and eleven months; the
second on the 5th of September of 1839, in the sixteenth month of his
existence; and to their dear memory maternal love dedicates the
following:--
"EPITAPH.
"Babes of my love! my Carmen and José!
Sons of your cherished father, Pimentel.
Why have you left your mother's side? for whom?
What motives have ye had to leave me thus?
But hark! I hear your voice--and breathlessly I listen.
I hear ye say--'To go to heaven!
Mother! we have left thee to see our God!'
Beloved shades! if this indeed be so,
Then let these bitter tears be turned to joy.
It is not meet that I should mourn for ye,
Since me ye have exchanged for my God.
To Him give thanks! and in your holy songs,
Pray that your parents' fate may be like yours."
LETTER THE FORTY-FOURTH
Agitation--Storm--Revolution--Manifesto--Resembling a Game of
Chess--Position of the Pieces--Appearance of the City--Firing--State of
Parties--Comparisons--"_Comicios_"--The People--Congress--Santa
Anna--Amnesty offered--Roaring of Cannon--Proclamation--Time to _look at
home_--The Will of the Nation--Different Feelings--Judge's House
destroyed--The Mint in Requisition--Preparations--Cannonading--"_Los
Enanos_."
31st.
This afternoon the clouds, gathered together in gloomy masses, announced a
thunderstorm, and at the same time a certain degree of agitation apparently
pervading the city was suddenly observable from our balconies. Shops were
shutting up; people hurrying in all directions, heads at all the windows,
and men looking out from the azoteas; but as these symptoms were
immediately followed by a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning and
splashing rain, we trusted that the cause had been very simple. But these
elements of nature are wielded by the Hand that called them forth, and can
stay them at His will, and the sun breaking forth smilingly and scattering
the clouds, made us feel that the storm had but refreshed the parched earth
and cleared the sultry atmosphere. Not so with the storm which has been
brooding in the hearts of a handful of ambitious men, and which has burst
forth at last, its bolts directed by no wise or merciful power, and by the
hands of selfish and designing and short-sighted mortals.
The storm, though short, had not pased away, when news was brought us of a
new _revolution in Mexico_! General Valencia, he who pronounced (but two
short months ago!) the high-flown and flattering speech to the president,
on receiving the sword of honour, has now _pronounced_ in a very different
and much clearer manner. Listen to him now:--
"Soldiers! The despotism of the Mexican government, the innumerable evils
which the nation suffers, the unceasing remonstrances which have been made
against these evils, and which have met with no attention, have forced us
to take a step this evening, which is not one of rebellion, but is the
energetic expression of our resolution to sacrifice everything to the
common good and interest. The cause which we defend is that of all
Mexicans; of the rich as of the poor; of the soldier as of the civilian. We
want a country, a government, the felicity of our homes, and respect from
without; and we shall obtain all; let us not doubt it. The nation will be
moved by our example. The arms which our country has given us for her
defence, we shall know how to employ in restoring her honour--an honour
which the government has stained by not acknowledging the total absence of
morality and energy in the actual authorities. The army which made her
independent shall also render her powerful and free. The illustrious
General Santa Anna to-day marches to Puebla, at the head of our heroic
companions at Vera Cruz, while upon Queretaro, already united to the
valiant General Paredes, the brave General Cortazar now begins his
operations.
"In a few days we shall see the other forces of the republic in motion, all
co-operating to the same end. The triumph is secure, my friends, and the
cause which we proclaim is so noble, that conquerors, we shall be covered
with glory; and, happen what may, we shall be honoured by our
fellow-citizens."
In this manifesto, which is mere declamation, there is no plan. It appears
that no one particularly counted upon General Valencia, and that, whether
fearing to be left out in the events which he saw approaching, or
apprehensive of being arrested by the government, who suspected him, he has
thought it wisest to strike a blow on his own account. Pacheco, who
commanded the citadel, together with Generals Lombardini and Sales, who had
been ordered out to march with their respective regiments against the
_pronunciados_, are now in the citadel, and in a state of revolt. The two
last had but just received money for the payment of their troops on the
preceding day.
8 o'clock.--Nothing further, but that the president has sallied forth on
horseback from San Agustin; and was received with repeated _vivas_ by the
people collected in the square.
1st September.--This revolution is like a game at chess, in which kings,
castles, knights, and bishops, are making different moves, while the pawns
are looking on or taking no part whatever.
To understand the state of the board, it is necessary to explain the
position of the four principal pieces--Santa Anna, Bustamante, Paredes, and
Valencia. The first move was made by Paredes, who published his plan, and
_pronounced_ on the eighth of August at Guadalajara. About the same time,
Don F---- M----, a Spanish broker, who had gone to Manga de Clavo, was sent
to Guadalajara, and had a conference with Paredes, the result of which was,
that the plan of that general was withdrawn, and it was supposed that he
and Santa Anna had formed a combination. Shortly after, the Censor of Vera
Cruz, a newspaper entirely devoted to Santa Anna, pronounced in favour of
the plan of Paredes, and Santa Anna, with a few miserable troops, and a
handful of cavalry, arrived at Perote. Here he remains for the present,
kept in check by the (government) General Torrejon. Meanwhile Paredes, with
about six hundred men, left Guadalajara and marched upon Guanajuato; and
there a blow was given to the government party by the defection of General
Cortazar, who thought fit thus to show his grateful sense of having just
received the rank of general of brigade with the insignia of this new
grade, which the president put on with his own hands. Another _check to the
president_. Once begun, defection spread rapidly, and Paredes and Cortazar
having advanced upon Queretaro, found that General Juvera, with his
garrison, had already _pronounced_ there, at the moment that they were
expected in Mexico to assist the government against Valencia. Paredes,
Cortazar, and Juvera are now united, and their forces amount to two
thousand two hundred men.
Meanwhile General Valencia, pressed to declare _his plan_, has replied that
he awaits the announcement of the intentions of Generals Paredes and Santa
Anna; and, for his own part, only desires the dismissal of General
Bustamante.
This, then, is the position of the three principal _pronounced_ chiefs, on
this second day of September of the year of our Lord 1841. Santa Anna in
Perote, hesitating whether to advance or retreat, and, in fact, prevented
from doing either by the vicinity of General Torrejon. Paredes in
Queretaro, with the other revolted generals. Valencia in the citadel of
Mexico with his _pronunciados_; while Bustamante, with Generals Almonte and
Canalizo, the _mark_ against which all these hostile operations are
directed, is determined, it is said, to fight to the last.
Mexico looks as if it had got a general holiday. Shops shut up, and all
business is at a stand. The people, with the utmost apathy, are collected
in groups, talking quietly; the officers are galloping about; generals, in
a somewhat party-coloured dress, with large gray hats, striped pantaloons,
old coats, and generals' belts, fine horses, and crimson-coloured velvet
saddles. The shopkeepers in the square have been removing their goods and
money. An occasional shot is heard, and sometimes a volley, succeeded by a
dead silence. The archbishop shows his reverend face now and then upon the
opposite balcony of his palace, looks out a little while, and then retires.
The chief effect, so far, is universal idleness in man and beast,--the
soldiers and their quadrupeds excepted.
The position of the president, however, is not so bad as at first sight it
might appear, or as it will be, if his enemies are permitted to reunite. He
has upwards of two thousand men, twelve pieces of ordnance, and, though his
infantry are few, and he has little artillery, he has good cavalry.
Valencia has twelve hundred men, twenty-six pieces of ordnance, with good
infantry, and almost all the artillery. The rebels have possessed
themselves of the Acordada, and given liberty to those who were imprisoned
for political opinions--a good loophole for the escape of criminals.
Those who understand these matters say that the principal object of the
government should be to reduce the rebels to the citadel only, and to
occupy all the important points in its neighbourhood, San Diego, San
Hipólito, San Fernando, etc.; but as yet this has not been done, and the
_pronunciados_ are gradually extending, and taking possession of these
points....
3rd.--They are now keeping up a pretty brisk fire between San Agustin and
the citadel. This morning the streets were covered with coaches, filled
with families leaving the city.
4th.--Things are becoming more complicated. The rebels now occupy San José,
Salto de Agua, the college of Vizcaynas (from which all the poor girls and
their teachers have fled), Regina, San Juan de la Penitencia, San Diego,
and San Fernando--a long line of important points. The president's line
begins at San Francisco, continuing by La Concepción; but, without a map of
the city, you will not understand the position of the two parties. However,
every turret and belfry is covered with soldiers, and the streets are
blocked up with troops and trenches. From behind these turrets and trenches
they fire at each other, scarcely a soldier falling, but numbers of
peaceful citizens; shells and bombs falling through the roofs of the
houses, and all this for "_the public good_."
The war of July had at least a shadow of pretext; it was a war of party,
and those who wished to re-establish federalism may have acted with good
faith. Now there is neither principle, nor pretext, nor plan, nor the
shadow of reason or legality. Disloyalty, hypocrisy, and the most sordid
calculation, are all the motives that can be discovered; and those who then
affected an ardent desire for the welfare of their country have now thrown
aside their masks, and appear in their true colours; and the great mass of
the people, who, thus passive and oppressed, allow their quiet homes to be
invaded, are kept in awe neither by the force of arms, nor by the depth of
the views of the conspirators, but by a handful of soldiers, who are
themselves scarcely aware of their own wishes or intentions, but that they
desire power and distinction at any price.
It is said that the federalists are very much elated, hoping for the
eventual triumph of their party, particularly in consequence of a
proclamation by Valencia, which appeared two days ago, and is called "the
plan of the _Comicios_," said to be written by General Tomel, who has gone
over to the citadel, and who, having a great deal of classical learning,
talks in it of the Roman _Committees_ (the _Comicios_). Since then the
revolution has taken the name of liberal, and is supported by men of name,
the Pedrazas, Belderas, Riva Palacio, and others, which is of great
importance to Valencia, and has given force and consistency to his party.
Besides this, the _pronunciados_ have the advantage of a free field from
the citadel out to Tacubaya, where it is said that certain rich bankers,
who are on their side, are constantly supplying the citadel with cartloads
of copper, which they send in from thence....
Meanwhile, we pass our time very quietly. In the morning we generally have
visitors very early, discussing the probabilities, and giving us the last
reports. Sometimes we venture out when there is no firing, which is much
less constant and alarming than it was last year. So far we continue to
have visitors in the evening, and Señor B---- and I have been playing duets
on the harp and piano, even though Mexico is declared "in a state of
siege." The ----- Minister, who was here this morning, does, however,
strongly recommend us to change our quarters, and to remove to Tacubaya;
which will be so troublesome, that we are inclined to delay it until it
becomes absolutely necessary....
5th.--We went upon the azotea this afternoon, to have a good view of the
city. There were people on almost all the balconies, as on a fête-day. A
picturesque group of friars of the order of La Merced, in their white
robes, had mounted up on the belfry of their church, and were looking out
anxiously. The palace roof next our own had soldiers on it. Everything at
that moment was still and tranquil; but the conduct of the people is our
constant source of surprise. Left entirely uncurbed, no one to direct them,
thousands out of employment, many without bread, they meddle with nothing,
do not complain, and scarcely seem to feel any interest in the result. How
easily might such a people be directed for their good! It is said that all
their _apathetic sympathies_ are in favour of Bustamante.
Some say that Santa Anna will arrive to-day--some that the whole affair
will be settled by treaty; but neither reports nor bulletins can be
depended on, as scarcely any one speaks according to his true feelings or
belief, but according to his political party....
It appears that the conduct of congress in this emergency has given little
satisfaction. They affect to give a declaration of the national will, and
are as ambiguous as the Delphic Oracle; and it is said that their half-
measures, and determination not to see that public opinion is against them,
and that a thorough change can alone undermine this military revolution,
will contribute more than anything to its eventual triumph....
The president has made use of the extraordinary powers which have been
granted him by the _Poder Conservador_ (conservative power, a singular and
intermediate authority introduced into the Mexican constitution), to
abolish the ten per cent, on consumption, and to modify the personal
contribution, reducing it to the richer classes alone. This concession has
apparently produced no effect. It is said that the government troops
continue to desert, convinced that a revolution in which Santa Anna takes
part must triumph. Four new generals have been made by the president....
6th.--We went out to Tacubaya, and found it impossible to procure a room
there, far less a house. This is also the case at Guadalupe, San Joaquin,
in fact in every village near Mexico. We are in no particular danger,
unless they were to bombard the palace. There was a slight shock of an
earthquake yesterday.
10th.--On the 7th, the president offered an amnesty to the _pronunciados_.
Whatever might have been the result, the evening concluded with a terrible
thunderstorm, mingled with the roaring of cannon, which had a most
lugubrious effect. Many people were killed on the street. We had gone out
in the morning, but met the Ex-Minister H---a, who strongly advised us to
return home directly, as balls were falling, and accidents happening all
round.
Soon after a proclamation was issued by General Valencia, purporting that
if the president did not yield, he would bombard the palace; and that if
the powder which is kept there were to blow up, it would ruin half the
city. This induced us to look at home, for if the palace is bombarded, the
Casa de Moneda cannot escape, and if the palace is blown up, the Casa de
Moneda will most certainly keep it company. When the proclamation came out
in the morning, various were the opinions expressed in consequence. Some
believed it to be a mere threat, and others that it would take place at
eleven at night. An old supernumerary soldier who lives here (one of those
who was disabled by the last revolution) assured us that we had better
leave the house, and as we refused, on the plea of having no safer house to
go to, he walked off to the azotea, telling us he would _let us know_ when
the first bomb fell on the palace, and that then we must go perforce. In
the evening we went downstairs to the large vaulted rooms where they are
making cannon balls, and where the vaults are so thick and solid, that it
was thought we should be in safety, even if General Valencia really kept
his word. We sat up that night till twelve o'clock, listening anxiously,
but nothing happened; and now, in consequence of a deputation which has
been sent to the citadel by certain foreigners of distinction (though
unknown to the government), we are no longer afraid of any sudden assault
of this kind, as General Valencia has promised, in consideration of their
representations, not to proceed to these last extremities, unless driven to
them for his own defence.
In listening to the different opinions which are current, it would seem
that Bustamante, Santa Anna, and Valencia are all equally unpopular; and
that the true will of the nation, which congress was afraid to express, was
first for the immediate convocation of a Constitutional Congress; and
secondly, that they should not be governed by Santa Anna, yet that
Bustamante should renounce, and a provisional president should be named....
Santa Anna writes, complaining that Bustamante, by assuming extraordinary
powers, commanding the army and yet continuing president, is infringing the
constitution. But as he is coming on to destroy it entirely, this is being
rather particular. It is reported that the typhus fever is in the citadel,
but there are many floating rumours which are not to be depended upon....
There is evidently a great deal of consternation beginning to be felt
amongst the lower classes. Foreigners generally are inclined towards Santa
Anna, Mexicans to Bustamante; but all feel the present evils. The léperos
seem to swarm in greater numbers than ever, and last evening two small
shops were broken into and robbed. In vain the president publishes
manifestos that the shops may be opened; they remain carefully shut, all
commerce paralyzed, and every one, who has the means to do so, leaving the
city.
We hear that the shells from the citadel have destroyed part of the
beautiful house belonging to Judge Pena y Penas, in front of the Alameda.
11th.--We have just received private information from the government, that
they will shortly require this house for arms and ammunition and troops;
coupled with still more private advice to provide for our safety by leaving
it. We shall therefore gladly accept the kind invitation of the F---a
family, to remove to their hacienda of San Xavier, about three leagues from
this. We had at first declined this invitation, owing to its distance from
the city--inconvenient for us, who are only waiting for the first
opportunity to leave it; but besides that after the most diligent search in
all the surrounding villages, we cannot find a single unoccupied room, we
are very glad to spend our remaining days in Mexico with so distinguished a
family. I shall therefore write little more at present on the subject of
the revolution, which now that we have lived some time in Mexico, and have
formed friendships there, fills us with feelings entirely different from
those which the last produced; with personal sentiments of regret, private
fears, and hopes for the future, and presentiments of evil which owe more
than half their sadness to individual feelings.
12th.--We are now in the midst of all the confusion occasioned by another
removal; surrounded by trunks and boxes and _cargadores_, and at the same
time by our friends (all those who have not taken flight yet) taking leave
of us....
A great cannonading took place last night, but without any important
result. The soldiers, in the day-time amuse themselves by insulting each
other from the roofs of the houses and convents. Yesterday, one of the
president's party singled out a soldier in the citadel, shot him, and then
began to dance the _Enanos_, and in the midst of a step, _he_ was shot, and
rolled over, dead....
We shall write again from San Xavier.
LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH
Leave Mexico-Travelling Equipage--San Xavier--Fine
Hacienda--Millionaires--Well-educated Ladies--Garden,
etc.--Tlanapantla--Indian Hut--Mrs. Ward--Doña Margarita--The
_Pronunciamiento_--False Step--Santa Anna in Puebla--Neutrality--General
Paredes--President in Tlanapantla--Tired Troops--Their March--Their
Return--Curate's House--Murder--General Paredes in the Lecheria--President
in Tlanapantla--A Meeting--Return of the President and his Troops--General
Paredes and his Men--Santa Anna in Tacubaya--A Junction--President in
Mexico--_Allied Sovereigns_--Plan--Articles--President declares for
Federalism--Resigns--Results--Hostilities--Capitulation--Triumphal
Entry--_Te Deum_--New Ministry.
SAN XAVIER, 16th September.
After a morning of fatigue, confusion, bustle, leave-taking, etc., etc., a
coach with four mules, procured with the utmost difficulty, drove up to the
door; the coach old and crazy, the mules and harness quite consistent, and
the postilions so tipsy that they could hardly keep their seats. But we had
no time to be particular, and climbed in amidst bows and hand-shakings, and
prophecies of breaking down and of being robbed by a band of _forçats_
headed by a Spaniard, who are said to be scouring the country; who are
_said_ to be, for just now, seeing is believing, and few reports are worth
attending to. However, we took two servants on horseback, by way of escort,
and rattled off, the coach creaking ominously, the postilions swinging from
side to side, and our worthy housekeeper, whom we had carried off from the
smoking city, screaming out her last orders to the _galopina_, concerning a
certain green parrot which she had left in the charge of that
tender-hearted damsel, who, with her _reboso_ at her eyes, surrounded by
directors of the mint, secretaries of legation, soldiers and porters, had
enough to do to take charge of herself. The city looked very sad, as we
drove through the streets; with closed shops, and barred windows, and
cannon planted, and soldiers riding about. At every village we passed, the
drivers called for brandy, tossed off a glassful, which appeared to act
like a composing draught, as they gradually recovered their equilibrium. We
were glad to arrive at San Xavier, where we received a most cordial
welcome, and to be removed, at least for a while, from sights and sounds of
destruction. A great part of the road to _Tlanapantla_, the village near
which San Xavier is situated, leads through traces of the ruins of the
ancient Tenochtitlan.
This part of the country is extremely pretty, being a corn and not a maguey
district. Instead of the monotonous and stiff maguey, whose head never
bends to the blast, we are surrounded by fields of waving corn. There are
also plenty of trees; poplar, ash, and elm; and one flourishing specimen of
the latter species, which we see from the windows in front of the house,
was brought here by Mr. Poinsett. The hacienda, which is about three
leagues from Mexico, is a large irregular building in rather a low
situation, surrounded by dark blue hills. It belongs to the Señoras de
F---a, of the family of the Marquis de A---o; _millionaires_--being rich in
haciendas and silver-mines; very religious, very charitable, and what is
less common here, extremely learned; understanding French, English, German,
and even Latin. Their education they owe to the care of their father, one
of the most distinguished men in Mexico, who was banished twice, once for
liberal opinions, and the second time for supporting the "Plan of Iguala,"
in fact for not being liberal enough. In these emigrations, his family
accompanied him, travelled over a great part of Europe, and profited by
their opportunities. They returned here when the independence was
accomplished, hoping for peace, but in vain. Constant alarms, and perpetual
revolutions have succeeded one another ever since that period.
The hacienda has the usual _quantum_ of furniture belonging to these
country houses; and it is certainly no longer a matter of surprise to us,
that rich proprietors take little interest in embellishing them. A house
which will in all probability be converted once a year into a barrack, is
decidedly better in a state of nature, than encumbered with elegant
furniture. This house has been entirely destroyed in that way more than
once, and the last time that it was occupied by troops, was left like an
Augean stable. We have here the luxury of books. My room opens into a
beautiful chapel, covered with paintings representing saints and virgins
holding lilies, where mass is said occasionally, though the family
generally attend mass in the village church of Tlanapantla. Before the
house is a small flower-garden filled with roses and peculiarly fine
dahlias, pomegranate-trees and violets, which, though single, have a
delicious fragrance. This stretches out into an immense vegetable-garden
and orchard, terminating in a shrubbery, through which walks are cut,
impervious to the sun at noon-day. There is also a large reservoir of
water, and the garden, which covers a great space of ground, is kept in
good order. There are beautiful walks in the neighbourhood, leading to
Indian villages, old churches, and farms; and all the lanes are bordered
with fruit-trees.
Tlanapantla, which means in Indian, _between lands_, its church having been
built by the Indians of two districts, is a small village, with an old
church, ruined remains of a convent, where the curate now lives, a few
shops, and a square where the Indians hold market (_tangis_ they call it)
on Fridays. All along the lanes are small Indian huts, with their usual mud
floor, small altar, earthen vessels, and collection of daubs on the walls;
especially of the Virgin of Guadalupe; with a few blest palm-leaves in the
corner; occupied, when the men are at work, by the Indian woman herself,
her sturdy, scantily-clothed progeny, and plenty of yelping dogs. Mrs.
Ward's sketch of the interior of an Indian hut is perfect, as all her
Mexican sketches are. When the women are also out at their work, they are
frequently tenanted by the little children alone. Taking refuge from a
shower of rain yesterday, in one of these mud huts, we found no one there
but a little bronze-coloured child, about three years old, sleeping all
alone on the floor, with the door wide open; and though we talked loud, and
walked about in the cottage, the little thing never wakened. A second
shower drove us for shelter to a farmhouse, where we entered a sort of
oratorio attached to the house; a room which is not consecrated, but has an
altar, crucifix, holy pictures, etc. The floor was strewed with flowers,
and in one corner was an old stringless violoncello, that might have formed
a pendant to the harp of Tara.
However, the most remarkable object of the rancho is its proprietress, a
tall, noble-looking Indian, Doña Margarita by name, a mountaineer by birth,
and now a rich widow, possessing lands and flocks, though living in
apparent poverty. The bulk of her fortune she employs in educating poor
orphans. Every poor child who has no parents, finds in her a mother and
protectress; the more wretched, or sick, or deformed, the more certain of
an asylum with her. She takes them into her house, brings them up as her
own children, has them bred to some useful employment, and when they are
old enough, married. If it is a boy, she chooses him a wife from amongst
the girls of the mountains, where she was born, who she says are "less
corrupted" than the girls of the village. She has generally from twelve to
twenty on her hands, always filling up with new orphans the vacancies
caused in her small colony by death or marriage. There is nothing
picturesque about these orphans, for, as I said before, the most deformed
and helpless, and maimed and sick, are the peculiar objects of Doña
Margarita's care; nevertheless, we saw various healthy, happy-looking
girls, busied in various ways, washing and ironing, and sewing, whose very
eyes gleamed when we mentioned her name, and who spoke of her with a
respect and affection that it was pleasant to witness. Truly, this woman is
entitled to happy dreams and soft slumbers! The remainder of her fortune
she employs in the festivals and ceremonies of the church; in fireworks, in
ornaments for the altars, etc.
9th.--Every day a messenger arrives from Mexico, bringing news of the
_pronunciamiento_, which are eagerly waited for, and read with intense
interest. It is probable, now, that affairs will soon come to a crisis. A
step has been taken by the president, which is considered very imprudent by
those who are looking on in this great game. General Torrejon, who with
nine hundred good soldiers kept Santa Anna in awe at Perote, has been sent
for to Mexico, Bustamante wishing to reunite his forces. These troops,
together with those of Codallos (the Governor of Puebla) brings up his army
to three thousand five hundred, or some say to four thousand men, all
effective, and of which nine hundred are good cavalry. Bustamante being now
at the head of the army, Hechavarria exercises the executive power,
according to the constitution, in his capacity of president of the Council
of State, (_Consejo de Estado_); the Mexicans having no vice-president.
Santa Anna, who had until now remained in Perote with his unorganized
troops, no officers on whom he could depend, and a handful of miserable
cavalry, has moved forwards to Puebla. Arrived there, his numbers were
increased by one hundred men of the Tobacco customs, (brought him by
Señor -----, who, with a rich Spanish banker went out to meet him,) forty
horsemen seduced from the escort of Codallos, and a company of
watchmen! As yet, no movement has taken place or seems likely to take
place in his favour in Puebla. Señor Haro is named governor of that city
in the place of Codallos, who was sent for to join the president in
Mexico; and Puebla, which used to be the great theatre of revolutions, has
remained on this occasion in the most perfect neutrality, neither
declaring for one party nor the other; probably the wisest course to
pursue at this juncture. Every one is of opinion that five hundred troops
sent by Bustamante, would instantly put this mongrel army of Santa Anna's
to flight; for though he has collected about a thousand men, he has not
three hundred good soldiers....
On the other hand, General Paredes is marching in this direction with
General Cortazar, his orders from Santa Anna no doubt being to keep the
president in play, and to divert his attention by treaties or preliminaries
of treaties, whilst he continues to march with caution towards the capital.
The great event to be dreaded by the government is a junction of the
_pronunciado_ forces. As long as they are separate, it is in no immediate
danger; but like the bundle of rods, what can easily be broken separately,
will assume strength when joined together. I make no further excuse for
talking about politics. We talk and think of little else.
21st.--Yesterday (Sunday) we were startled by the intelligence, that
Generals Canalizo and Noriega had arrived at the village in the middle of
the night, with a large troop, and that General Bustamante himself had made
his appearance there at five in the morning: so that the peaceful little
Tlanapantla had suddenly assumed a warlike appearance. As it lies on the
direct road to Guanajuato there could be no doubt that they were marching
to meet Paredes. C---n immediately walked down to the village to pay his
respects to the president, who was lodged at the curate's, and meanwhile
General Noriega came to the hacienda to see the ladies. C---n found the
president very much fatigued, having passed fourteen days and nights under
arms, and in constant anxiety; General Orbegoso was with him.
After breakfast we went down to the village to see the troops, who were
resting there for a few hours. The cavalry occupied the square, the horses
standing, and the men stretched asleep on the ground, each soldier beside
his horse. The infantry occupied the churchyard. Dreadfully fatigued, they
were lying some on the grass, and others with their heads pillowed on the
old tombstones, resting as well as they could with their armour on. Before
they started, the curate said mass to them in the square. There was a good
deal of difficulty in procuring the most common food for so many hungry
men. Tortillas had been baked in haste, and all the hens in the village
were put in requisition to obtain eggs for the president and his officers.
We sat down in a porch to see them set off; a melancholy sight enough, in
spite of drums beating and trumpets sounding. An old soldier, who came up
to water his own and his master's horse, began to talk to us of what was
going on, and seemed anything but enthusiastic at the prospects of himself
and his comrades, assuring us that the army of General Paredes was double
their number. He was covered with wounds received in the war against Texas,
and expressed his firm conviction that we should see the Comanche Indians
on the streets of Mexico one of these days; at which savage tribe he
appeared to have a most devout horror; describing to a gaping audience the
manner in which he had seen a party of them devour three of their
prisoners....
About four o'clock the signal for departure was sounded, and they went off
amidst the cheers of the people.
22nd.--Great curiosity was excited yesterday afternoon, when news was
brought us that Bustamante, with his generals and troops, had returned, and
had passed through the village, on their way back to Mexico! Some say that
this retrograde march is in consequence of a movement made in Mexico by
General Valencia--others that it has been caused by a message received from
General Paredes. We paid a visit in the evening to the old curate, who was
pretty much in the dark, morally and figuratively, in a very large hall,
where were assembled a number of females, and one tallow candle. Of course
all were talking politics, and especially discoursing of the visit of the
president the preceding night, and of his departure in the morning, and of
his return in the afternoon, and of the difficulty of procuring tortillas
for the men, and eggs for the officers.
23rd.--We have received news this morning of the murder of our porter, the
Spaniard whom we had brought from Havana. He had left us, and was employed
as porter in a _fabrica_ (manufactory), where the wife and family of the
proprietor resided. Eight of General Valencia's soldiers sallied forth from
the citadel to rob this factory, and poor José, the most faithful and
honest of servants, having valiantly defended the door, was cruelly
murdered. They afterwards entered the building, robbed, and committed
dreadful outrages. They are selling printed papers through the streets
to-day, giving an account of it. The men are taken up, and it is said will
be shot by orders of the general; but we doubt this, even though a message
has arrived, requiring the attendance of the _padre_ who confesses
criminals; a Franciscan monk, who, with various of his brethren, are living
here for safety at present.
The situation of Mexico is melancholy.
24th.--News have arrived that General Paredes has arrived at the
_Lecheria_, an hacienda belonging to this family, about three leagues from
San Xavier: and that from thence he sent one of the servants of the farm to
Mexico, inviting the president to a personal conference. The family take
this news of their hacienda's being turned into military quarters very
philosophically; the only precaution on these occasions being to conceal
the best horses, as the _pronunciados_ help themselves, without ceremony,
to these useful quadrupeds, wherever they are to be found.
26th.--This morning, General Bustamante and his troops arrived at
Tlanapantla, the president in a coach. Having met C---n on the road, he
stopped for a few moments and informed him that he was on his way to meet
General Paredes at the _Lecheria_, where he hoped to come to a composition
with him. We listened all day with anxiety, but hearing no firing,
concluded that some arrangement had in fact been made. In the evening we
walked out on the high-road, and met the president, the governor, and the
troops all returning. What securities Bustamante can have received, no one
can imagine, but it is certain that they have met without striking a blow.
It was nearly dusk as they passed, and the president bowed cheerfully,
while some of the officers rode up, and assured us that all was settled.
Sunday, 27th.--Cavalry, infantry, carriages, cannon, etc., are all passing
through the village. These are the _pronunciados_, with General Paredes,
following to Mexico. Feminine curiosity induces me to stop here, and to
join the party who are going down to the village to see them pass....
We have just returned after a sunny walk, and an _inspection_ of the
_pronunciados_--they are too near Mexico now for me to venture to call them
_the rebels_. The infantry, it must be confessed, was in a very ragged and
rather drunken condition--the cavalry better, having _borrowed_ fresh
horses as they went along. Though certainly not _point-device_ in their
accoutrements, their good horses, high saddles, bronze faces, and
picturesque attire, had a fine effect as they passed along under the
burning sun. The sick followed on asses, and amongst them various masculine
women, with _sarapes_ or _mangas_ and large straw hats, tied down with
coloured handkerchiefs, mounted on mules or horses. The sumpter mules
followed, carrying provisions, camp-beds, etc.; and various Indian women
trotted on foot in the rear, carrying their husbands' boots and clothes.
There was certainly no beauty amongst these feminine followers of the camp,
especially amongst the mounted Amazons, who looked like very ugly men in a
semi-female disguise. The whole party are on their way to Tacubaya, to join
Santa Anna! The game is nearly up now. _Check from two knights and a
castle_--from Santa Anna and Paredes in Tacubaya, and from Valencia in the
citadel. People are flying in all directions, some from Mexico, and others
from Guadalupe and Tacubaya....
It appears that Santa Anna was marching from Puebla, feeling his way
towards the capital in fear and trembling. At Rio Frio a sentinel's gun
having accidentally gone off, the whole army were thrown into the most
ludicrous consternation and confusion. Near Oyotla the general's brow
cleared up, for here he was met by commissioners from the government,
Generals Orbegoso and Guyame. In a moment the quick apprehension of Santa
Anna saw that the day was his own. He gave orders to continue the march
with all speed to Tacubaya, affecting to listen to the proposals of the
commissioners, amusing them without compromising himself, and offering to
treat with them at _Mexicalsingo_. They returned without having received
any decided answer, and without, on their part, having given any assurance
that his march should not be stopped; yet he has been permitted to arrive
unmolested at Tacubaya, where Paredes has also arrived, and where he has
been joined by General Valencia; so that the three _pronunciado_ generals
are now united there to dispose of the fate of the republic....
The same day General Almonte had an interview with Santa Anna, who said
with a smile, when he left him, "_Es buen muchacho_ (he is a good lad)--he
may be of service to us yet." ...
The three _allied sovereigns_ are now in the archbishop's palace at
Tacubaya, from whence they are to dictate to the president and the nation.
But they are, in fact, chiefly occupied with their respective engagements
and respective rights. Paredes wishes to fulfil his engagements with the
departments of Guanjuato, Jalisco, Zacatecas, Aguas Calientes, Queretaro,
etc. In his _plan_ he promised them religious toleration, permission for
foreigners to hold property, and so on--the last, in fact, being his
favourite project. Valencia, on his side, has his engagements to fulfil
with the federalists, and has proposed Señor Pedraza as an integral part of
the regeneration--one whose name will give confidence now and ever to his
party. General Santa Anna has engagements _with himself_. He has determined
to command them all, and allows them to fight amongst themselves, provided
he governs. Paredes is, in fact, furious with Valencia, accusing him of
having interfered when not wanted, and of having ruined his _plan_, by
mingling it with a revolution, with which it had no concern. He does not
reflect that Valencia was the person who gave the mortal wound to the
government. Had he not revolted, Santa Anna would not have left Perote, nor
Paredes himself passed on unmolested....
The conservative body has been invited to go to Tacubaya, but has refused.
The majority desire the election of Paredes, or of any one who is not Santa
Anna or Valencia; but Paredes himself, while drawing no very flattering
portrait of Santa Anna, declares that he is the only man in the republic
fit for the presidency--the only man who can make himself obeyed--in short,
the only one capable of taking those energetic measures which the safety of
the republic requires. He flatters himself that he, at the head of his
division, will always keep Santa Anna in check; as if Cortazar, who
deserted Bustamante in a moment of difficulty, could be depended on!...
Meanwhile they are fortifying Mexico; and some suppose that Bustamante and
his generals have taken the rash determination of permitting all their
enemies to unite, in order to destroy them at one blow....
29th.--There being at present an armistice between the contending parties,
a document was published yesterday, fruits of the discussion of the allied
powers at Tacubaya. It is called "_las bases de Tacubaya_," and being
published in Mexico by General Almonte, many expected and hoped that a new
_pronunciamiento_ would be the consequence; but it has been quietly
received, and the federalists welcome it as containing the foundations of
federalism and popularity. There are thirteen articles, which are as
follow:
By the first--It is the will of the nation that the supreme powers
established by the constitution of '36 have ceased, excepting the judicial,
which will be limited in its functions to matters purely judicial,
conformably to the existing laws.
By the second--A _junta_ is to be named, composed of two deputies from each
department, elected by his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief of the Mexican
army, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, in order that they may be entirely
free to point out the person who is to hold the executive power
provisionally.
By the third--This person is immediately to assume the executive power,
taking an oath in the presence of the junta to set for the welfare of the
nation.
By the fourth--The provisional executive power shall in two months convoke
a new congress, which, with ample powers, shall engage to reconstitute the
nation, as appears most suitable to them.
By the fifth--This congress extraordinary shall reunite in six months after
it is convened, and shall solely occupy itself in forming the constitution.
By the sixth--The provincial executive shall answer for its acts before the
first constitutional congress.
By the seventh--The provincial executive shall have all the powers
necessary for the organization of all the branches of the public
administration.
By the eighth--Four Ministers shall be named, of foreign and home
relations, of public instruction and industry, of treasury, and of war and
marine.
By the ninth--Each department is to have two trustworthy individuals to
form a council, which shall give judgment in all matters on which they may
be consulted by the executive.
By the tenth--Till this council is named, the _junta_ will fulfil its
functions.
By the eleventh--Till the republic is organized, the authorities in the
departments which have not opposed, and will not oppose the national will,
shall continue.
By the twelfth--The general-in-chief and all the other generals promise to
forget all the political conduct of military men or citizens during the
present crisis.
By the thirteenth--When three days have passed after the expiration of the
present truce, if the general-in-chief of the government does not adopt
these _bases_, their accomplishment will be proceeded with; and they
declare, in the name of the nation, that this general, and all the troops
who follow him, and all the so-called authorities which counteract this
national will, shall be held responsible for all the Mexican blood that may
be uselessly shed, and which shall be upon their heads.
3Oth.--To the astonishment of all parties, Bustamante and his generals
_pronounced_ yesterday morning for the federal system, and _this_ morning
Bustamante has resigned the presidency. His motives seem not to be
understood, unless a circular, published by General Almonte, can throw any
light upon them.
"Without making any commentary," he says, speaking of the document of
Tacubaya, "upon this impudent document, which proposes to the Mexican
nation a military government, and the most ominous of dictatorships in
favour of the false defender of public liberty, of the most ferocious enemy
of every government that has existed in the country, I hasten to send it to
you, that you may have it published in this state, where surely it will
excite the same indignation as in an immense majority of the inhabitants of
the capital, who, jealous of the national glory, and decided to lose
everything in order to preserve it, have spontaneously proclaimed the
re-establishment of the federal system, the whole garrison having followed
this impulse. There is no medium between liberty and tyranny; and the
government, relying on the good sense of the nation, which will not see
with indifference the slavery that is preparing for it, puts itself in the
hands of the states, resolved to sacrifice itself on the altars of the
country, or to strengthen its liberty for ever.
"I enclose the renunciation which His Excellency Don Anastasio Bustamante
makes to the presidency," etc.
3rd October.--Though a very democratic crowd collected, and federalism was
proclaimed in Mexico, it appears that no confidence in the government was
inspired by this last measure. Some say that had Bustamante alone declared
for the federal system, and had sent some effective cavalry to protect the
_pronunciados_ of that party all through the country, he might have
triumphed still. Be that as it may, General Canalizo pronounced for
federalism on the second of October, but this is not followed up on the
part of the Generals Bustamante and Almonte, while the vice-president,
_Hechavarria_, has retired to his house, blaming Almonte for having
published an official document without his knowledge. Everything is in a
state of perfect anarchy and confusion. The léperos are going about armed,
and no one remains in Mexico but those who are obliged to do so. It is said
that in Tacubaya great uneasiness prevailed as to the result of this new
movement, and Santa Anna offered an asylum there to the congress and
conservative body, although, by the ultimatum from Tacubaya, published on
the twenty-eighth, the constitution of '36 was concluded, and of course
these authorities were politically dead.
I had hardly written these words when the roaring of cannon announced that
hostilities have recommenced.
5th.--For the last few days, we have been listening to the cannon, and even
at this distance, the noise reverberating amongst the hills is tremendous.
The sound is horrible! There is something appalling, yet humbling, in these
manifestations of man's wrath and man's power, when he seems to usurp his
Maker's attributes, and to mimic his thunder. The divine spark kindled
within him, has taught him how to draw these metals from the earth's bosom;
how to combine these simple materials, so as to produce with them an effect
as terrible as the thunderbolts of heaven. His earthly passions have
prompted him so to wield these instruments of destruction, as to deface
God's image in his fellow-men. The power is so divine--the causes that
impel him to use that power are so paltry! The intellect that creates these
messengers of death is so near akin to divinity--the motives that put them
in action are so poor, so degrading even to humanity!
On the third, there was a shower of bombs and shells from the citadel, of
which some fell into the palace, and one in our late residence, the mint.
An engagement took place in the Virga; and though Bustamante's party were
partially victorious, it is said that neither has much reason to boast of
the result. General Espinosa, an old insurgent, arrived at the village last
night, and sent to request some horses from the hacienda, which were sent
him with all convenient speed, that he might not, according to his usual
plan, come and take them. In exchange for some half-dozen farm horses in
good condition, he sent half a dozen lean, wretched-looking quadrupeds, the
bones coming through their skin, skeletons fit for dissection.
News have just arrived to the effect that last night, at three o'clock,
Bustamante suddenly left the city, drawing off all his troops from the
turrets, and leaving General Orbegoso in the palace, with one hundred men.
It was generally reported, that he had marched into the interior, to bring
about a federal revolution; but it appears that he has arrived at
Guadalupe, and there taken up his quarters. A loud cannonading has been
kept up since ten o'clock, which keeps us all idle, looking out for the
smoke, and counting the number of discharges.
6th.--A messenger has brought the intelligence that there had been more
noise and smoke than slaughter; the cannons being planted at such
distances, that it was impossible they could do much execution. Numerous
bulletins are distributed; some violently in favour of Bustamante and
federalism, full of abuse and dread of Santa Anna; others lauding that
general to the skies, as the saviour of his country. The _allied_ forces
being in numbers double those of Bustamante, there is little doubt of the
result.
7th.--_A capitulation_. Santa Anna is triumphant. He made his solemn entry
into Mexico last evening, Generals Valencia and Canalizo being at the head
of the united forces. Not a solitary _viva_ was heard as they passed along
the streets; nor afterwards, during his speech in congress. _Te Deum_ was
sung this morning in the cathedral, the archbishop in person receiving the
new president. We have just returned from Mexico, where we went in search
of apartments, and with great difficulty have found rooms in the hotel of
the Calle Vegara; but we shall remain here a day or two longer. There is no
great difference in the general appearance of the city, except that the
shops are reopened, and that most of the windows are broken. Immediately
after the morning ceremony, Santa Anna returned to the archbishop's palace
at Tacubaya; which residence he prefers to the president's palace in
Mexico. His return there, after his triumphant entry into the capital, was
very much _en Rio_--a retinue of splendid coaches with fine horses, going
at full speed; the general's carriage drawn by four beautiful white
horses--(belonging to Don F---- M----; the very same that were sent to
bring us into Mexico) brilliant aides-de-camp, and an immense escort of
cavalry. Thus concludes the revolution of 1842, though not its effects.
The new ministry, up to this date, are Señor Gomez Pedraza for Foreign and
Home Relations; Castillo, _un petit avocat_ from Guadalajara, said to be a
furious federalist and Latin scholar, for Public Instruction; General
Tornel for War and Marine; and Señor Dufoo for the Treasury. Valencia
proposed Paredes for the War Department; but he declined, saying, "No, no,
General--I understand you very well. You want to draw me from off my
division."
Those who know Bustamante best, even those who most blame him for
indecision and want of energy, agree on one point; that the true motives of
his conduct are to be found in his constant and earnest desire to spare
human life.
LETTER THE FORTY-SIXTH
Santa Monica--Solidity--Old Paintings--Anachronism-Babies and Nurses from
the _Cuna_--Society--Funds--Plan--Indian Nurses--Carmelite Convent--
Midnight Warning--Old Villages and Churches--Indian Bath--San Mateo--The
Lecheria--Fertility--_Nolino Viejo_--Dulness--Religious Exercises--Return
to Mexico--Mexican Hotel--New Generals--Disturbances--General Bustamante--
Inconvenience--Abuses in the name of Liberty--Verses--Independence
celebrated.
8th.
The Revolution has lasted upwards of thirty-five days; and during that
time, though I have written of little else, we have been taking many rides
in the environs of this hacienda, some of which were very interesting. We
are also making the most of our last few days of Mexican country life. On
Thursday we went on horseback with a large party to visit the mill of Santa
Mónica, an immense hacienda, which tradition, I know not with what truth,
supposes to have been in former days the property of Doña Marina; a gift to
her from Cortes. At all events, at a later period it belonged to the
Augustine monks, then to a Mexican family, who lost their fortune from
neglect or extravagance. It was bought by the present proprietor for a
comparatively trifling sum, and produces him an annual rent of thirty-five
thousand dollars upon an average. The house is colossal, and not more than
one-third of it occupied. The granaries, of solid masonry, contain fourteen
thousand loads of corn--they were built about two hundred and fifty years
ago. From all the neighbouring haciendas, and even from many distant
estates, the corn is sent to this mill, and is here ground, deposited, and
sold on account of the owner, a certain portion deducted for the proprietor
of Santa Mónica. It seems strange that they should have no windmills here,
in a country colonized by Spain, where, according to _Cervantes_, they were
common enough. The house is in a commanding situation, and the views of the
mountains, especially from the upper windows, are very grand. In some of
the old, unoccupied apartments, are some good copies of old paintings, the
copies themselves of ancient date. There is the Angel announcing to
Elizabeth the birth of Saint John; a Holy Family, from Murillo; the
destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, which is one of the best; particularly
the figures in the foreground, of Lot and his family. Lot's wife stands in
the distance, a graceful figure just crystallized, her head turned in the
direction of the doomed city. I looked into every dark corner, in hopes of
finding some old daub representing Doña Marina, but without success. There
is the strangest contrast possible between these half-abandoned palaces,
and their actual proprietors. We had beautiful riding-horses belonging to
the hacienda, and enjoyed everything but the exceeding heat of the sun, as
we galloped home about one o'clock....
As a specimen of rather a remarkable anachronism, we were told that a
justice in the village of Tlanapantla, speaking the other day of General
Bustamante, said, "Poor man--he is persecuted by all parties, just as Jesús
Christ was by the _Jansenists_, the _Sadducees_, and the _Holy Fathers of
the Church_!" What a curious _olla podrida_ the poor man's brain must be!
In the midst of the revolution, we were amused by a very peaceful
sight--all the nurses belonging to the _Cuna_, or Foundling hospital,
coming from the different villages to receive their monthly wages. Amongst
the many charitable institutions of Mexico, there appears to me (in spite
of the many prejudices existing against such institutions) none more useful
than this. These otherwise unfortunate children, the offspring of abject
poverty or guilt, are left at the gate of the establishment, where they are
received without any questions being asked; and from that moment, they are
protected and cared for, by the best and noblest families in the country.
The members of the society consist of the first persons in Mexico, male and
female. The men furnish the money; the women give their time and attention.
There is no fixed number of members, and amongst them are the ladies in
whose house we now live. The _President_ is the Dowager Marquesa de
Vivanco. When the child has been about a month in the _Cuna_, it is sent,
with an Indian nurse, to one of the villages near Mexico. If sick or feeble
it remains in the house, under the more immediate inspection of the
society. These nurses have a _fiadora_, a responsible person, who lives in
the village, and answers for their good conduct. Each nurse is paid four
dollars per month, a sufficient sum to induce any poor Indian, with a
family, to add one to her stock. Each lady of the society has a certain
number under her peculiar care, and gives their clothes, which are poor
enough, but according to the _village fashion_. The child thus put out to
nurse, is brought back to the _Cuna_ when weaned, and remains under the
charge of the society for life; but of the hundreds and tens of hundreds
that have passed through their hands, scarcely has one been left to grow up
in the _Cuna_. They are constantly adopted by respectable persons, who,
according to their inclination or abilities, bring them up either as
favoured servants, or as their own children; and the condition of a
"_huérfano_," an orphan, as a child from the hospital is always called, is
perfectly upon a level with that of the most petted child of the house. The
nurses in the _Cuna_ are paid eight dollars per month.
Upwards of a hundred nurses and babies arrived on Sunday, taking up their
station on the grass, under the shade of a large ash-tree in the courtyard.
The nurses are invariably bronze; the babies generally dark, though there
was a sprinkling of fair English or German faces amongst them, with blue
eyes and blonde hair, apparently not the growth of Mexican land. Great
attention to cleanliness cannot be hoped for from this class, but the
babies looked healthy and contented. Each nurse had to present a paper
which had been given her for that purpose, containing her own name, the
name of the child, and that of the lady under whose particular charge she
was. Such as-"_María Josifa_-baby _Juanita de los Santos_-belonging to the
_Señora Doña Matilde F----_, given on such a day to the charge of María
Joséfa." Constantly the nurse had lost this paper, and impossible for her
to remember more than her own name; as to who gave her the baby, or when
she got it, was entirely beyond her powers of calculation. However, then
stept forward the _fiadora_ Doña Tomaso, a sensible-looking village dame,
grave and important as became her situation, and gave an account of the
nurse and the baby, which being satisfactory, the copper was swept into the
nurse's lap, and she and her baby went away contented. It was pleasant to
see the kindness of the ladies to these poor women; how they praised the
care that had been taken of the babies; admired the strong and healthy
ones, which indeed nearly all were; took an interest in those who looked
paler, or less robust; and how fond and proud the nurses were of their
charges; and how little of a hired, mercenary, _hospital_ feeling existed
among them all....
A judge in the village, who comes here frequently, a pleasant and
well-informed man, amused us this evening by recounting to us how he had
once formed a determination to become a monk, through sudden fear. Being
sent by government to Toluca, some years ago, to inquire into the private
political conduct of a _Yorkino_, he found that his only means of remaining
there unsuspected, and also of obtaining information, was to lodge in the
convent of the Carmelite friars. The padres accommodated him with a cell,
and assisted him very efficaciously in his researches. But the first night,
being alone in his cell, the convent large and dreary, and the wind howling
lugubriously over the plains, he was awakened at night by a deep sepulchral
voice, apparently close to his ear, tolling forth these words:
"Hermanos, en el sepulcro acaba,
Todo lo que el mundo alaba!"
"My brothers, all must finish in the tomb!
Of all that men extol, this is the doom."
Exceedingly startled, he sprang up, and opened the door of his cell. A dim
lamp faintly illuminated the long vaulted galleries, and the monks, like
shadows, were gliding to midnight prayer. In the dreariness of the night,
with the solemn words sounding in his ear like a warning knell, he came to
the satisfactory conclusion that all was vanity, and to the determination
that the very next day he would retire from the world, join this holy
brotherhood, and bind himself to be a Carmelite friar for life. The day
brought counsel, the cheerful sunbeams dispelled the gloom, even within the
old convent, and his scruples of conscience melted away.
There are old villages and old churches in this neighbourhood that would
delight an antiquary. In the churchyard of the village of San Andrés, is
the most beautiful weeping ash I ever saw. We took shelter from the sun
yesterday under its gigantic shadow, and lay there as under a green vault.
We saw to-day, near another solitary old church, one of the Indian
oven-baths, the _temescallis_, built of bricks, in which there is neither
alteration nor improvement since their first invention, heaven alone knows
in what century.
9th.--We rode last evening to another estate belonging to this family,
called _San Mateo_, one of the prettiest places on a small scale we have
seen here. The road, or rather path, led us through fields, covered with
the greatest profusion of bright yellow sunflowers and scarlet dahlias, so
tall that they came up to our horses' ears. The house is built in the
cottage style (the first specimen of that style we have seen here), with
the piazza in front, large trees shading it, and a beautiful view from the
height on which it stands. It has rather an English than a Spanish look. No
one lives there but the agent and his wife--and a fierce dog.
11th.--This morning we rose at five, mounted our horses, and accompanied by
Señor E----, together with the administrador and the old gardener, set off
to take our last long ride from San Xavier; for this evening we return to
Mexico. The morning was fine and fresh, the very morning for a gallop, and
the country looked beautiful. We rode first to the _Lecheria_, where
Generals Bustamante and Paredes had their last eventful conference, having
passed on our way various old churches and villages, and another hacienda
also belonging to this family, whose estates seem countless. The _Lecheria_
is a large unoccupied house, or occupied only by the administrador and his
family. It is a fine building, and its courtyard within is filled with
flowers; but having neither garden nor trees near it, seems rather lonely;
and must have been startled to find itself the _rendezvous_ of contending
chieftains. It is surrounded by fertile and profitable fields of corn and
maize. We staid but a short time in the house, and having observed with due
respect the chamber where the generals conferred together, remounted our
horses and rode on. I have no doubt, by the way, that their meeting was the
most amicable imaginable. I never saw a country where opponent parties bear
so little real ill-will to each other. It all seems to evaporate in words.
I do not believe that there is any real bad feeling subsisting at this
moment, even between the two rival generals, Bustamante and Santa Anna.
Santa Anna usurped the presidency, partly because he wanted it, and partly
because if he had not, some one else would; but I am convinced that if they
met by chance in a drawing-room, they would give each other as cordial an
_ambrazo_ (embrace), Mexican fashion, as if nothing had happened.
Our road led us through a beautiful track of country, all belonging to the
Lecheria, through pathways that skirted the fields, where the plough had
newly turned up the richest possible soil, and which were bordered by wild
flowers and shady trees. For miles our path lay through a thick _carpeting_
of the most beautiful wild flowers imaginable: bright scarlet dahlias,
gaudy sunflowers, together with purple and lilac, and pale straw-coloured
blossoms, to all which the gardener gave but the general name of
_mirasoles_ (sunflower). The purple convolvulus threw its creeping branches
on the ground, or along whatever it could embrace; while all these bright
flowers, some growing to a great height, seemed, as we rode by them, to be
flaunting past us in their gay colours, like peasants in their holiday
dresses. The ground also was enamelled with a little low inquisitive
looking blossom, bright yellow, with a peeping brown eye; and the whole,
besides forming the gayest assemblage of colours and groups, gave to the
air a delicious fragrance.
But at last we left these fertile grounds, and began to ascend the hills,
part of which afford pasture for the flocks, till, still higher up, they
become perfectly arid and stony. Here the whole landscape looks bleak and
dreary, excepting that the eye can rest upon the distant mountains, of a
beautiful blue, like a peep of the promised land from Mount Nebo. After
having rode four leagues, the latter part over this sterile ground,
affording but an insecure footing for our horses, we descried, low down in
a valley, an old sad-looking building, with a ruined mill and some trees.
This was the object of our ride; the "_molino viejo_" (old mill), another
hacienda belonging to these rich lady proprietors; and profitable on
account of the fine pasture which some of the surrounding hills afford.
Nothing could look more solitary. Magdalene might have left her desert, and
ended her days there, without materially bettering her situation. The only
sign of life is a stream that runs round a very productive small orchard in
front of the house, while on a hill behind are a few maguey plants, and on
the _mirador_, in front of the house, some creepers have been trained with
a good deal of taste. There are bleak hills in front--hills with a scanty
herbage behind it, and everywhere a stillness that makes itself felt:
while, strange circumstance in this country! there is not even a church
within a league and a half. There has been a chapel in the house, but the
gilded paintings are falling from the walls--the altar is broken, and the
floor covered with dried corn. The agent's wife, who sits here all alone,
must have time to collect her scattered thoughts, and plenty of opportunity
for reflection and self-examination. Certain it is, she gave us a very good
breakfast, which we attacked like famished pilgrims; and shortly after took
our leave.
The heat on the shadeless hills had now become intense. It is only on such
occasions that one can fully appreciate the sufferings of _Regulus_. We
returned by the _carriage-road,_ a track between two hills, composed of
ruts and stones, and large holes. On the most barren parts of these hills,
there springs a tree which the Indians call _guisachel_; it resembles the
savine, and produces a berry of which ink is made. The road was bordered by
bushes, covered with white blossoms, very fragrant. We galloped as fast as
our horses would carry us, to escape from the sun; and passed a pretty
village on the high road, which is a fine broad causeway in good repair,
leading to Guanaxuato. We also passed _San Mateo_, and then rode over the
fields fast home, where we arrived, looking like broiled potatoes....
We had a conversation with ----- this morning, on the subject of the
"_ejercicios_," certain religious exercises, to which, in Mexico, men as
well as women annually devote a certain number of days, during which they
retire from the world to a religious house or convent, set apart for that
purpose, of which some receive male and other female devotees. Here they
fast and pray and receive religious instruction, and meditate upon
religious subjects during the period of their retreat. A respectable
merchant, who, in compliance with this custom, lately retired for a few
days to one of these religious establishments, wrote, on entering there, to
his head clerk, a young man to whom he was much attached, informing him
that he had a presentiment that he would not leave the convent alive, but
would die by the time his devotional exercises were completed; giving him
some good advice as to his future conduct, together with his last
instructions as to his own affairs. He ended with these words: "_hasta la
eternidad_!" until eternity! The letter produced a strong effect on the
mind of the young man; but still more, when the merchant died at the end of
a few days, as he had predicted, and was carried from the convent to his
grave.
MEXICO, Calle Vergara, 12th.
We reached Mexico last evening, and took up our quarters in an inn or hotel
kept by an English woman, and tolerably clean, though of course not very
agreeable. A number of _pronunciado_ officers are also here--amongst
others, General -----, who I hope will be obliged to go soon, that we may
have his parlour; a mysterious English couple; a wounded Colonel, an old
gentleman, a fixture in the house, etc. There is a _table d'hôte_, but I
believe no ladies dine there. Invitations to take up our quarters in
private houses have been pressed upon us with a kindness and cordiality
difficult to resist....
Though politics are the only topic of interest at present, I think you will
care little for having an account of the Junta of Representatives, or of
the elections, with their chiefly military members. Considering by whom the
members are chosen, and the object for which they are elected, the result
of their deliberations is, as you may suppose, pretty well known
beforehand. Military power is strengthened by every act, and all this power
is vested in the commanders-in-chief. New batches of generals are made, in
order to reward the late distinguished services of the officers, and
colonels by hundreds. Eleven generals were created in the division of
Paredes alone. Money has been given to the troops in the palace, with
orders to purchase new uniforms, which it is said will be very brilliant.
There appears, generally speaking, a good deal of half-smothered
discontent, and it is whispered that even the revolutionary bankers are
half repentant and look gloomy. The only opposition paper is "Un Periódico
Más;" one more periodical--the others are all Ministerial.
In the south there has been some trouble with Generals Bravo and Alvarez,
who wish that part of the country to govern itself until the meeting of
congress. There was some talk of putting Valencia at the head of the troops
which are destined to march against them, but there are now negotiations
pending, and it is supposed there will be some agreement made without
coming to bloodshed. It is said that orders were sent to General Almonte to
leave the republic, and that he answered the despatch with firmness,
refusing to acknowledge the authority of Santa Anna. General Bustamante,
who is now in Guadalupe, intends to leave the scene of his disasters within
a few months. C---n paid him a visit lately, and though scarcely recovered
from his fatigues both of body and mind, he appears cheerful and resigned,
and with all the tranquillity which can be inspired only by a good
conscience, and the conviction of having _done his duty to the best of his
abilities_....
As for us personally, this revolution has been the most inconvenient
revolution that ever took place; doing us all manner of mischief; stopping
the sale of our furniture, throwing our affairs into confusion;
overthrowing all our plans, and probably delaying our departure until
December or January. But in these cases, every one must suffer more or
less; and meanwhile, we are surrounded by friends and by friendly
attentions. It will be impossible for us to leave Mexico without regret. It
requires nothing but a settled government to make it one of the first
countries in the world. Santa Anna has much in his power. _Reste a savoir_
how he will use that power. Perhaps in these last years of tranquillity,
which he has spent on his estate, he may have meditated to some purpose.
It is singular how, in trying to avoid small evils, we plunge into unknown
gulfs of misery; and how little we reflect that it might be wiser to
"Bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of."
Every one has heard of the abuses that produced the first revolution in
Mexico--of the great inequality of riches, of the degradation of the
Indians, of the high prices of foreign goods, of the Inquisition, of the
ignorance of the people, the bad state of the colleges, the difficulty of
obtaining justice, the influence of the clergy, and the ignorance in which
the Mexican youth were purposely kept. Which of these evils has been
remedied? Foreign goods are cheaper, and the Inquisition _is not_; but this
last unchristian institution had surely gradually lost its power before the
days of the last viceroy?--But in the sacred name of _Liberty_, every abuse
can be tolerated.
"O fatal name, misleader of mankind,
Phantom, too radiant and too much adored!
Deceitful Star, whose beams are bright to blind,
Although their more benignant influence poured
The light of glory on the Switzer's sword,
And hallowed Washington's immortal name.
Liberty! Thou when absent how deplored,
And when received, how wasted, till thy name
Grows tarnished; shall mankind, ne'er cease to work thee shame?
"Not from the blood in fiercest battle shed,
Nor deeds heroical as arm can do,
Is the true strength of manly freedom bred,
Restraining tyranny and licence too,
The madness of the many and the few.
Land, whose new beauties I behold revealed,
Is this not true, and bitter as 'tis true?
The ruined fane, the desolated field,
The ruffian-haunted road, a solemn answer yield.
"Where look the loftiest Cordilleras down
From summits hoary with eternal snow
On Montezuma's venerable town
And storied vale, and Lake of Mexico,
These thoughts the shade of melancholy throw
On all that else were fair, and gay, and grand
As nature in her glory can bestow.
For never yet, though liberal her hand,
So variously hath she adorned, enriched one land.
"What boots it that from where the level deep
Basks in the tropic sun's o'erpow'ring light
To where yon mountains lift their wintry steep,
All climes, all seasons in one land unite?
What boots it that her buried caves are bright
With wealth untold of gold or silver ore?
While, checked by anarchy's perpetual blight,
Industry trembles 'mid her hard-earned store,
While rapine riots near in riches stained with gore?
"O sage regenerators of mankind!
Patriots of nimble tongue and systems crude!
How many regal tyrannies combined,
So many fields of massacre have strewed
As you, and your attendant cut-throat brood?
Man works no miracles; long toil, long thought,
Joined to experience, may achieve much good,
But to create new systems out of nought,
Is fit for Him alone, the universe who wrought.
"But what hath such an hour of such a day
To do with human crimes, or earthly gloom?
Far wiser to enjoy while yet we may,
The mock-bird's song, the orange flower's perfume,
The freshness that the sparkling fountain showers.
Let nations reach their glory or their doom,
Spring will return to dress yon orange bowers,
And flowers will still bloom on, and bards will sing of flowers."
21st.--In pursuance of the last-mentioned advice, we have been breakfasting
to-day at Tacubaya, with the ----- Minister and his family, and enjoying
ourselves there in Madame -----'s garden. We have also just returned from
the Marquesa de -----'s, where we had a pleasant evening, and met General
Paredes, whom I like very much; a real soldier, thin, plain, blunt, and all
hacked with wounds.
23rd.--C---n has been dining at the ----- Minister's, where he met all the
great actors in the present drama, and had an agreeable party. We are now
thinking of making our escape from this hotel, and of taking a horseback
journey into Michoacán, which shall occupy a month or six weeks. Meantime I
am visiting, with the Señorita -----, every hospital, jail, college, and
madhouse in Mexico!
26th.--To-day they are celebrating their independence. All the bells in all
the churches, beginning with the cathedral, are pealing--cannon
firing--rockets rushing up into the air--Santa Anna in the Alameda,
speechifying--troops galloping--little boys running--Te Deum
chanting--crowds of men and women jostling each other--the streets covered
with carriages, the balconies covered with people--the Paseo expected to be
crowded. I have escaped to a quiet room, where I am trying to find time to
make up my letters before the packet goes. I conclude this just as the
dictator, with his brilliant staff, has driven off to Tacubaya.
LETTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH
Opera--Santa Anna and his Suite--His Appearance--_Belisario_--Solitary
"_Viva!_"--Brilliant House--Military Dictatorship--_San Juan de Dios_--
Hospital _de Jesús_--_Cuna_--Old Woman and Baby--Different Apartments--
Acordada--Junta--Female Prisoners--Chief Crime--_Travaux Forces_--
Children--Male Prisoners--_Forçats_--Soldier's Gambling--Chapel--
Confessional--Insane Hospital--Frenchmen--Different Kinds of Insanity--
Kitchen--Dinner--Insane Monk--"Black Chamber"--Soldiers--College--Santa
Anna's Leg--Projects--All Saints--Señora P---a--Leave-takings.
4th November.
A great _función_ was given in the opera in honour of his excellency. The
theatre was most brilliantly illuminated with wax lights. Two principal
boxes were thrown into one for the president and his suite, and lined with
crimson and gold, with draperies of the same. The staircase leading to the
second tier where this box was, was lighted by and _lined_ all the way up
with rows of footmen in crimson and gold livery. A crowd of gentlemen stood
waiting in the lobby for the arrival of the hero of the fête. He came at
last in regal state, carriages and outriders at full gallop; himself, staff
and suite, in splendid uniform. As he entered, Señor Roca presented him
with a libretto of the opera, bound in red and gold. We met the great man
_en face_, and he stopped, and gave us a cordial recognition. Two years
have made little change in him in appearance. He retains the same
interesting, resigned, and rather melancholy expression; the same quiet
voice, and grave but agreeable manner; and surrounded by pompous officers,
he alone looked quiet, gentlemanly, and high bred. The theatre was crowded
to suffocation; boxes, pit, and galleries. There was no applause as he
entered. One solitary voice in the pit said "Viva Santa Anna!" but it
seemed checked by a slight movement of disapprobation, scarcely amounting
to a murmur. The opera was Belisarius; considered _à propos_ to the
occasion, and was really beautifully _montée_; the dresses new and
superb--the decorations handsome. They brought in real horses, and
Belisarius entered in a triumphal chariot, drawn by white steeds; but for
this the stage is infinitely too small, and the horses plunged and pranced
so desperately, that Belisarius wisely jumped out and finished his _aria_
on foot. The two prima donnas acted together--the wife and daughter of the
hero--both about the same age, and dressed very well. But the Castellan's
voice is not suited to the opera, and the music, beautiful as it is, was
the least effective part of the affair. The generals, in their scarlet and
gold uniforms, sat like peacocks surrounding Santa Anna, who looked modest
and retiring, and as if quite unaccustomed to the public gaze! The boxes
were very brilliant--all the diamonds taken out for the occasion. His
Excellency is by no means indifferent to beauty--_tout au contraire_; yet I
dare say his thoughts were this night of things more warlike and less fair.
Let all this end as it may, let them give everything whatever name is most
popular, the government is now a military dictatorship. Señor ----- calls
this revolution "the apotheosis of egotism transformed into virtue;" and it
must be confessed, that in most of the actors, it has been a mere
calculation of personal interests.
10th.--We went, some days ago, with our friends from San Xavier, to visit
the hospital of San Juan de Dios, at San Cosme. We found that, being at
present under repair, it has but two occupants, old women--who keep each
other melancholy company. The building is very spacious and handsome;
erected, of course, during Spanish dominion, and extremely clean--an
observation worthy of note, when it occurs in Mexican public buildings.
There is a large hall, divided by square pillars, with a light and cheerful
aspect, where the patients sleep; and a separate apartment for women. The
rooms are all so clean, airy, and cheerful, that one forgets it is an
hospital. In this respect, the style of building here is superior to all
others, with large airy courtyards and fountains, long galleries and
immense apartments, with every window open. There is no part of Europe
where, all the year round, invalids can enjoy such advantages; but, also,
there are few parts of Europe where the climate would permit them to do so.
The following day we visited another hospital; that known as the _Hospital
de Jesús_--hallowed ground; for here the mortal remains of _Cortes_ were
deposited. And, though rescued from desecration by a distinguished
individual, during a popular tumult, so that they no longer repose in the
sanctuary of the chapel, there still exists, enshrined here, that over
which time and revolutions have no power--his _memory_.
The establishment, as an hospital, is much finer, and the building
infinitely handsomer than the other. The director, a physician, led us
first into his own apartments, as the patients were dining, and afterwards
showed us through the whole establishment. The first large hall, into which
we were shown, is almost entirely occupied by soldiers, who had been
wounded during the _pronunciamiento_. One had lost an arm, another a leg,
and they looked sad and haggard enough, though they seemed perfectly well
attended to, and, I dare say, did anything but _bless_ the revolutions that
brought them to that state, and with which they had nothing to do; for your
Mexican soldier will lie down on his mat at night, a loyal man, and will
waken in the morning and find himself a _pronunciado_. Each one had a
separate room, or at least a compartment divided by curtains from the next;
and in each was a bed, a chair, and a small table; this on one side of the
long hall. The other was occupied by excellent hot and cold baths. We then
visited the women's apartment, which is on a similar plan. Amongst the
patients is an unfortunate child of eight years old, who in the
_pronunciamiento_ had been accidentally struck by a bullet, which entered
her left temple and came out below the right eye, leaving her alive. The
ball was extracted, and a portion of the brain came out at the wound. She
is left blind, or nearly so, having but a faint glimmering of light. They
say she will probably live, which seems impossible. She looks like a
galvanized corpse--yet must have been a good-looking child. Notwithstanding
the nature of her wound, her reason has not gone, and as she sat upright in
her little bed, with her head bandaged, and her fixed and sightless eyes,
she answered meekly and readily to all the questions we put to her. Poor
little thing! she was shocking to look at; one of the many innocent beings
whose lives are to be rendered sad and joyless by this revolution. The
doctor seemed very kind to her.
A curious accident happened to Señor ----- in this last _pronunciamiento_.
He had already lost his leg in the first one; and was limping along the
street, when he was struck by a ball. He was able to reach his house, and
called to his wife, to tell her what had occurred. Her first impulse was to
call for a doctor, when he said to her very coolly, "Not this time,--a
carpenter will do better." He had been shot in his _wooden leg_!
At the end of the women's apartment in this hospital, there is a small
chapel where mass is said to the invalids. It is only remarkable as having
over the altar an image of the _Purisima_, brought from Spain by Cortes. We
went all through the building, even to the enclosure on the azotea, where
dead bodies are dissected; and on which azotea was a quantity of wool,
taken from the mattresses of those who die in the hospital, and which is
left in the sun during a certain period before it is permitted to be used
again. The whole establishment struck us as being healthy, cleanly, and
well-conducted. We then visited the fine old church, which has but one
broad aisle with a handsome altar, and near it is the small monument, under
which the bones of the conqueror were placed. The sacristy of the church is
remarkable for its ceiling, composed of the most intricately and
beautifully carved mahogany; a work of immense labour and taste, after the
Gothic style. The divisions of the compartments are painted blue and
ornamented with gilding. In the centre of the apartment is an immense
circular table, formed of one piece of mahogany; for which large sums have
been refused.
We went in the evening to visit the _Cuna_, which is not a fine building,
but a large, healthy, airy house. At the door, where there are a porter and
his wife, the babies are now given in. Formerly they were put in at the
_reja_, at the window of the porter's lodge; but this had to be given up,
in consequence of the tricks played by boys or idle persons, who put in
dogs, cats, or dead animals. As we were going upstairs, we heard an old
woman singing a cheerful ditty in an awfully cracked voice, and as we got a
full view of her before she could see us, we saw a clean, old body sitting,
sewing and singing, while a baby rolling on the floor in a state of perfect
ecstasy, was keeping up a sort of crowing duet with her. She seemed
delighted to see these ladies, who belong to the _Junta_, and led us into a
large hall where a score of nurses and babies were performing a symphony of
singing, hushing, crying, lullabying, and other nursery music. All along
the room were little green painted beds, and both nurses and babies looked
clean and healthy. The -----s knew every baby and nurse and directress by
name. Some of the babies were remarkably pretty, and when we had admired
them sufficiently, we were taken into the next hall, occupied by little
girls of two, three, and four years old. They were all seated on little
mats at the foot of their small green beds; a regiment of the finest and
healthiest children possible; a directress in the room sewing. At our
entrance, they all jumped up simultaneously, and surrounded us with the
noisiest expressions of delight. One told me in a confidential whisper,
that "Manuelita had thumped her own head, and had a pain in it;" but I
could not see that Manuelita seemed to be suffering any acute agonies, for
she made more noise than any of them. One little girl sidled up to me, and
said in a most insinuating voice, "_Me llevas tu?_" "Will you take me away
with you?"--for even at this early age they begin to have a glimmering idea
that those whom the ladies choose from amongst them are peculiarly
favoured. We staid some time with them, and admired their healthy, happy,
and well-fed appearance; and then proceeded to the apartment of the boys;
all little things of the same age, sitting ranged in a row like senators in
congress, and, strange to say, much quieter and graver than the female
babies; but this must have been from shyness, for before we came away, we
saw them romping in great style. The directresses seem good respectable
women, and kind to the children, who, as I mentioned before, are almost all
taken away and brought up by rich people, before they have time to know
that there is anything peculiar or unfortunate in their situation. After
this adoption, they are completely on a level with the other children of
the family--an equal portion is left them, and although their condition is
never made a secret of, they frequently marry as well as their adopted
brothers and sisters.
Those who are opposed to this institution, are so on the plea that it
encourages and facilitates vice. That the number of children in the
hospital is a proof that much vice and much poverty do exist, there is no
doubt; that by enabling the vicious to conceal their guilt, or by relieving
the poor from their burden, it encourages either vice or idleness, is
scarcely probable. But even were it so, the certain benefits are so
immense, when laid in the balance with the possible evils, that they cannot
be put in competition. The mother who leaves her child at the _Cuna_, would
she not abandon it to a worse fate, if this institution did not exist? If
she does so to conceal her disgrace is it not seen that a woman will stop
at no cruelty, to obtain this end? as exposure of her infant, even murder?
and that, strong as maternal love is, the dread of the world's scorn has
conquered it? If poverty be the cause, surely the misery must be great
indeed, which induces the poorest beggar or the most destitute of the
Indian women (whose love for their children amounts to a passion) to part
with her child; and though it is suspected that the mother who has left her
infant at the _Cuna_, has occasionally got herself hired as a nurse, that
she may have the pleasure of bringing it up, it seems to me that no great
evil can arise, even from that.
These orphans are thus rescued from the contamination of vice, from
poverty, perhaps from the depths of depravity; perhaps their very lives are
saved, and great sin prevented. Hundreds of innocent children are thus
placed under the care of the first and best ladies in the country, and
brought up to be worthy members of society.
Another day we devoted to visiting a different and more painful scene--the
_Acordada_, or public jail; a great solid building, spacious, and well
ventilated. For this also there is a _Junta_, or society of ladies of the
first families, who devote themselves to teaching the female malefactors.
It is painful and almost startling to see the first ladies in Mexico
familiarly conversing with and embracing women who have been guilty of the
most atrocious crimes; especially of murdering their husbands; which is the
chief crime of the female prisoners. There are no bad faces amongst them;
and probably not one who has committed a premeditated crime. A moment of
jealousy during intoxication, violent passions without any curb, suddenly
aroused and as suddenly extinguished, have led to these frightful results.
We were first shown into a large and tolerably clean apartment, where were
the female prisoners who are kept apart as being of a more _decent family_
than the rest. Some were lying on the floor, others working--some were well
dressed, others dirty and slovenly. Few looked sad; most appeared careless
and happy, and _none_ seemed ashamed. Amongst them were some of the
handsomest faces I have seen in Mexico. One good-looking common woman, with
a most joyous and benevolent countenance, and lame, came up to salute the
ladies. I inquired what she had done. "Murdered her husband, and buried him
under the brick floor!" Shade of Lavater! It is some comfort to hear that
their husbands were generally such brutes, they deserved little better!
Amongst others confined here is the wife, or rather the widow, of a
governor of Mexico, who made away with her husband. We did not see her, and
they say she generally keeps out of the way when strangers come. One very
pretty and coquettish little woman, with a most intellectual face, and very
superior-looking, being in fact a relation of Count -----'s, is in jail on
suspicion of having poisoned her lover. A beautiful young creature,
extremely like Mrs. -----, of Boston, was among the prisoners. I did not
hear what her crime was. We were attended by a woman who has the title of
_Presidenta_, and who, after some years of good conduct, has now the charge
of her fellow-prisoners--but she also murdered her husband! We went
upstairs, accompanied by various of these distinguished criminals, to the
room looking down upon the chapel, in which room the ladies give them
instruction in reading, and in the Christian doctrine. With the time which
they devote to these charitable offices, together with their numerous
devotional exercises, and the care which their houses and families require,
it cannot be said that the life of a Mexican Señora is an idle one; nor, in
such cases, can it be considered a useless one.
We then descended to the lower regions, where, in a great, damp, vaulted
gallery, hundreds of unfortunate women of the lowest class, were occupied
in _travaux forces_--not indeed of a very hard description. These were
employed in baking tortillas for the prisoners. Dirty, ragged, and
miserable-looking creatures there were in these dismal vaults, which looked
like purgatory, and smelt like--Heaven knows what! But, as I have
frequently had occasion to observe in Mexico, the sense of smell is a
doubtful blessing. Another large hall near this, which the prisoners were
employed in cleaning and sweeping, has at least fresh air, opening on one
side into a court, where poor little children, the saddest sight there,
were running about--the children of the prisoners.
Leaving the side of the building devoted to the women, we passed on to
another gallery, looking down upon an immense paved court with a fountain,
where were several hundreds of male prisoners, unfortunately collected
together without any reference to the nature of their crime; the midnight
murderer with the purloiner of a pocket-handkerchief; the branded felon
with the man guilty of some political offence; the debtor with the false
coiner; so that many a young and thoughtless individual whom a trifling
fault, the result of ignorance or of unformed principles, has brought
hither, must leave this place wholly contaminated and hardened by bad
example and vicious conversation. Here there were indeed some ferocious,
hardened-looking ruffians--but there were many mild, good-humoured faces;
and I could see neither sadness nor a trace of shame on any countenance;
indeed they all seemed much amused by seeing so many ladies. Some were
stretched full-length on the ground, doing nothing; others were making
rolls for hats, of different coloured beads, such as they wear here, or
little baskets for sale; whilst others were walking about alone, or
conversing in groups. This is the first prison I ever visited, therefore I
can compare it with no other; but the system must be wrong which makes no
distinctions between different degrees of crime. These men are the same
_forçats_ whom we daily see in chains, watering the Alameda or Paseo, or
mending the streets. Several hundreds of prisoners escaped from the
Acordada in the time of the _pronunciamiento_--probably the worst amongst
them--yet _half the city_ appears to be here now. We were shown the row of
cells for criminals whom it is necessary to keep in solitary confinement,
on account of disorderly behaviour--also the apartments of the directors.
In passing downstairs, we came upon a group of dirty-looking soldiers,
busily engaged in playing at cards. The alcalde, who was showing us through
the jail, dispersed them all in a great rage, which I suspected was partly
assumed for our edification. We then went into the chapel, which we had
seen from above, and which is handsome and well kept. In the sacristy is a
horrid and appropriate image of _the bad thief_. We were also shown a small
room off the chapel, with a confessional, where the criminal condemned to
die spends the three days preceding his execution with a padre chosen for
that purpose. What horrid confessions, what lamentations and despair that
small dark chamber must have witnessed! There is nothing in it but an
altar, a crucifix, and a bench. I think the custom is a very humane one.
We felt glad to leave this palace of crimes, and to return to the fresh
air.
The following day we went to visit _San Hipólito_, the insane hospital for
men, accompanied by the director, a fine old gentleman, who has been a
great deal abroad, and who looks like a French marquis of the _ancien
regime_. I was astonished, on entering, at the sweet and solitary beauty of
the large stone courts, with orange trees and pomegranates now in full
blossom, and the large fountains of beautifully clear water. There must be
something soothing in such a scene to the senses of these most unfortunate
of God's creatures. They were sauntering about, quiet and for the most part
sad; some stretched out under the trees, and others gazing on the fountain;
all apparently very much under the control of the administrador, who was
formerly a monk, this _San Hipólito_ being a dissolved convent of that
order. The system of giving occupation to the insane is not yet introduced
here.
On entering, we saw rather a distinguished-looking, tall and well-dressed
gentleman, whom we concluded to be a stranger who had come to see the
establishment, like ourselves. We were therefore somewhat startled when he
advanced towards us with long strides, and in an authoritative voice
shouted out, "Do you know who I am? I am the Deliverer of Guatemala!" The
_administrador_ told us he had just been taken up, was a Frenchman, and in
a state of furious excitement. He continued making a tremendous noise, and
the other madmen seemed quite ashamed of him. One unhappy-looking creature,
with a pale, melancholy face, and his arms stretched out above his head,
was embracing a pillar, and when asked what he was doing, replied that he
was "making sugar." We were led into the dining-hall, a long airy
apartment, provided with benches and tables, and from thence into a most
splendid kitchen, high, vaulted, and receiving air from above, a kitchen
that might have graced the castle of some feudal baron, and looked as if it
would most surely last as long as men shall eat and cooks endure. Monks of
San Hipólito! how many a smoking dinner, what viands steaming and savoury
must have issued from this noblest of kitchens to your refectory next door.
The food for the present inmates, which two women were preparing, consisted
of meat and vegetables, soup and sweet things; excellent meat, and
well-dressed _frijoles_. A poor little boy, imbecile, deaf and dumb, was
seated there cross-legged, in a sort of wooden box; a pretty child, with a
fine colour, but who has been in this state from his infancy. The women
seemed very kind to him, and he had a placid, contented expression of face;
but took no notice of us when we spoke to him. Strange and unsolvable
problem, what ideas pass through the brain of that child!
When we returned to the dining-hall, the inmates of the asylum, to the
number of ninety or a hundred, were all sitting at dinner, ranged quietly
on the benches, eating with wooden spoons out of wooden bowls. The poor
hero of Guatemala was seated at the lower end of the table, tolerably
tranquil. He started up on seeing us, and was beginning some furious
explanations, but was prevented by his neighbour, who turned round with an
air of great superiority, saying, "He's _mad!_" at which the other smiled
with an air of great contempt, and looking at us said, "He calls _me_ mad!"
The man of the pillar was eyeing his soup, with his arms as before,
extended above his head. The director desired him to eat his soup, upon
which he slowly and reluctantly brought down one arm, and ate a few
spoonfuls. "How much sugar have you made to-day?" asked the director.
"Fifty thousand kingdoms!" said the man.
They showed us two men, of very good family, and one old gentleman who did
not come to dinner with the rest, but stood aloof, in the courtyard, with
an air of great superiority. He had a cross upon his breast, and belongs to
an old family. As we approached, he took off his hat, and spoke to us very
politely; and then turning to the director, "_Y por fín_," said he,
"_Cuando saldré?_" "When shall I leave this place?" "Very soon," said the
director. "You may get your trunks ready." He bowed and appeared satisfied,
but continued standing in the same place, his arms folded, and with the
same wistful gaze as before. The director told us that the two great causes
of madness here are love and drinking, (mental and physical intoxication);
that the insanity caused by the former is almost invariably incurable,
whereas the victims of the latter generally recover, as is natural. The
poor old gentleman with the cross owes the overthrow of his mind to the
desertion of his mistress. We saw the chapel, where a padre says mass to
these poor creatures, "the Innocents," as they are called here. They do not
enter the chapel, for fear of their creating any disturbance, but kneel
outside, in front of the iron grating, and the administrador says it is
astonishing how quiet and serious they appear during divine service.
As we passed through the court, there was a man busily employed in hanging
up various articles of little children's clothes, as if to dry them--little
frocks and trousers; all the time speaking rapidly to himself, and stopping
every two minutes to take an immense draught of water from the fountain.
His dinner was brought out to him (for he could not be prevailed on to sit
down with the others), and he ate it in the same hurried way, dipping his
bread in the fountain, and talking all the time. The poor madman of the
_sugar-kingdoms_ returned from dinner, and resumed his usual place at the
pillar, standing with his arms above his head, and with the same melancholy
and suffering expression of face.
The director then showed us the room where the clothes are kept; the straw
hats and coarse dresses, and the terrible straight waistcoats made of brown
linen, that look like coats with prodigiously long sleeves, and the
_Botica_ where the medicines are kept, and the secretary's room where they
preserve the mournful records of entry and death--though often of exit. All
round the court are strong stone cells, where the furious are confined. He
took us into an empty one, where a Franciscan friar had been lodged. He had
contrived to pull down part of the wall, and to make a large hole into his
neighbour's cell adjoining. Fancy one madman seeing the head of another
appear through a hole in his cell! The whole cell was covered with crosses
of every description, drawn with a piece of coal. They had been obliged to
remove him into another in the gallery above, where he had already begun a
new work of destruction. I was afterwards told by the Padre P---n, the
confessor of condemned criminals, and who is of the same order as this
insane monk, that this poor man had been a merchant, and had collected
together about forty thousand dollars, with which he was travelling to
Mexico, when he was attacked by robbers, who not only deprived him of all
he possessed, but gave him some severe wounds on the head. When somewhat
recovered, he renounced the world, and took his vows in the convent of San
Francisco. Shortly after, he became subject to attacks of insanity, and at
last became so furious, that the superior was obliged to request an order
for his admission to San Hipólito.
The director then led us to the gallery above, where are more cells, and
the terrible "_Cuarto Negro_," the Black Chamber; a dark, round cell, about
twelve feet in circumference, with merely a slit in the wall for the
admission of air. The floor is thickly covered with straw, and the walls
are entirely covered with soft stuffed cushions. Here the most furious
madman is confined on his arrival, and whether he throws himself on the
floor, or dashes his head against the wall, he can do himself no injury. In
a few days, the silence and the darkness soothe his fury, he grows calmer,
and will eat the food that is thrust through the aperture in the wall. From
this he is removed to a common cell, with more light and air; but until he
has become tranquil, he is not admitted into the court amongst the others.
From this horrible, though I suppose necessary den of suffering, we went to
the apartments of the administrador, which have a fine view of the city and
the volcanoes, and saw a virgin, beautifully carved in wood, and dressed in
white satin robes, embroidered with small diamonds. On the ground was a
little dog, dying, having just fallen off from the azotea, an accident
which happens to dogs here not unfrequently. We then went up to the azotea,
which looks into the garden of San Fernando and of our last house, and also
into the barracks of the soldiers, who, as ----- observed, are more
dangerous madmen than those who are confined. Some rolled up in their dirty
yellow cloaks, and others standing in their shirt-sleeves, and many without
either; they were as dirty-looking a set of military heroes as one would
wish to see. When we came downstairs again, and had gone through the court,
and were passing the last cell, each of which is only lighted by an
aperture in the thick stone wall, a pair of great black eyes glaring
through, upon a level with mine, startled me infinitely. The eyes, however,
glared upon vacancy. The face was thin and sallow, the beard long and
matted, and the cheeks sunken. What long years of suffering appeared to
have passed over that furrowed brow! I wish I had not seen it....
We afterwards went to the college of Bizcainos, that K---- might see it--my
third and last visit. What a palace! What courts and fountains! We went
over the whole building as before, from the azotea downwards, and from the
porter's lodge upwards. Many of the scholars, who went out during the
revolution, have not yet returned. K---- was in admiration at the
galleries, which look like long vaulted streets, and at the chapel, which
is certainly remarkably rich....
Having stopped in the carriage on the way home, at a shoemaker's, we saw
_Santa Anna's leg_ lying on the counter, and observed it with due respect,
as the prop of a hero. With this leg, which is fitted with a very handsome
boot, he reviews his troops next Sunday, putting his _best foot foremost;_
for generally he merely wears an unadorned wooden leg. The shoemaker, a
Spaniard, whom I can recommend to all customers as the most impertinent
individual I ever encountered, was arguing, in a blustering manner, with a
gentleman who had brought a message from the general, desiring some
alteration in the boot: and wound up by muttering, as the messenger left
the shop, "He shall either wear it as it is, or review the troops next
Sunday without his leg!"[1]
[Footnote 1: Boston, November, 1842.--_Apropos des bottes,_ I copy the
following paragraph from an Havana newspaper:
"Mexico, 28th September.--Yesterday, was buried with pomp and solemnity in
the cemetery of Saint Paul, the foot which his Excellency, President Santa
Anna, lost in the action of the 5th December, 1838. It was deposited in a
monument erected for that purpose, Don Ignacio Sierra y Roso having
pronounced a funeral discourse appropriate to the subject."]
We have ordered _mangas_ to wear in our intended journey, which is now
nearly decided on--nothing tolerable to be had under seventy or eighty
dollars. They are made of strong cloth, with a hole in the middle for
putting the head through, with black velvet capes, fringed either with silk
or gold, and are universally lined with strong calico. They are warm and
convenient for riding in the country. I have seen some richly embroidered,
which cost five hundred dollars.
It is as I prophesied--now that we are about leaving Mexico, we fancy that
there still remain objects of interest which we have not seen. We have paid
a visit, probably a last visit, to Our Lady of Guadalupe, and certainly
never examined her cathedral with so much attention, or lingered so long
before each painting and shrine, or listened with so much interest to the
particulars of its erection, which were given us by Señor -----, whose
authority in these matters is unimpeachable.
It appears that the present sacristy of the parochial church dates back to
1575, and was then a small chapel, where the miraculous image was kept, and
where it remained until the beginning of the next century, when a new
church was built, to which the image was solemnly transported. Even when
enclosed in the first small sanctuary, its fame must have been great, for,
by orders of the archbishop, six doweries of three hundred dollars each, to
be given to six orphans on their marriage, were annually drawn from the
alms offered at her shrine. But in 1629 Mexico suffered the terrible
inundation which destroyed so large a part of the city, and the excellent
archbishop, D. Francisco Manzo, while devoting his time and fortune to
assist the sufferers, also gave orders that the Virgin of Guadalupe should
be brought into Mexico, and placed in the cathedral there, then of very
different dimensions from the present noble building, occupying, it is
said, the space which is now covered by the principal sacristy. When the
waters retired, and the Virgin was restored to her own sanctuary, her fame
increased to a prodigious extent. Copies of the Divine Image were so
multiplied, that there is probably not an Indian hut throughout the whole
country where one does not exist. Oblations and alms increased a thousand
fold; a silver throne, weighing upwards of three hundred and fifty marks,
and beautifully wrought, chiefly at the expense of the viceroy, Count of
Salvatierra, was presented to her sanctuary, together with a glass case
(for the image), considered at that time a wonder of art. At the end of the
century a new temple, the present sanctuary, was begun; the second church
was thrown down, but not until a provisional building (the actual parish
church) was erected to receive the image. The new temple was concluded in
1709, and is said to have cost from six to eight hundred thousand dollars,
collected from _alms alone_, which were solicited in person by the
viceregal archbishop, D. Juan de Ortega y Montanez. Two private individuals
in Mexico gave, the one thirty, the other fifty thousand dollars, towards
its erection.
The interior is of the Doric order, and has three aisles, divided by eight
pillars, upon which with the walls are placed eighteen arches, the centre
one forming the dome of the edifice. It runs from north to south, has three
great gates, one fronting Mexico, and two others at the sides. Its length
may be two hundred and fifty feet, and its width about one hundred and
thirty. In the four external angles of the church are four lofty towers, in
the midst of which rises the dome. Three altars were at first erected, and
in the middle one, destined for the image, was a sumptuous tabernacle of
silver gilt, in which were more than three thousand two hundred marks of
silver, and which cost nearly eighty thousand dollars. In the centre of
this was a piece of gold, weighing four thousand and fifty _castellanos_
(an old Spanish coin, the fiftieth part of a mark of gold), and here the
image was placed, the linen on which it is painted guarded by a silver
plate of great value. The rest of the temple had riches corresponding. The
candlesticks, vases, railing, etc., contain nearly fourteen thousand marks
of silver, without counting the numerous holy vessels, cups and chalices
adorned with jewels. One golden lamp weighed upwards of two thousand two
hundred _castellanos_--another seven hundred and fifty silver marks.
In 1802 some part of the walls and arches began to give way--and it was
necessary to repair them. But first, under the direction of the celebrated
sculptor Tolsa, a new altar was erected for the image. His first care was
to collect the most beautiful marbles of the country for this purpose--the
black he brought from Puebla, and the white, gray and rose-coloured from
the quarries of San José Vizarron. He also began to work at the bronze
ornaments, but from the immense sums of money necessary to its execution,
the work was delayed for nearly twenty years. Then, in 1826, it was
recommenced with fresh vigour. The image was removed meanwhile to the
neighbouring convent of the Capuchinas, and the same year the altar was
concluded, and the Virgin brought back in solemn procession, in the midst
of an innumerable multitude. This great altar, which cost from three to
four hundred thousand dollars, is a concave hexagonal, in the midst of
which rise two white marble pillars, and on each side two columns of
rose-coloured marble, of the composite order, which support the arch.
Between these are two pedestals, on which are the images of San Joaquin and
Santa Anna, and two niches, containing San José and St. John the Baptist.
Above the cornices are three other pedestals, supporting the three Saints,
Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael; and above St. Michael, in the midst of
cherubim and seraphim, is a representation of the Eternal Father. The space
between the upper part of the altar and the roof, is covered with a painted
crimson curtain, held by saints and angels. The tabernacle in the centre of
the altar, is of rose-coloured marble, in which the image is deposited, and
all the ornaments of the altar are of gilt bronze and zinc.
Besides the collegiate and the parish church, there are at Guadalupe the
church of the Capuchin Nuns, and the churches of the Hill and the Well; all
in such close conjunction, that the whole village or city, as it calls
itself, seems altogether some religious establishment or confraternity,
belonging to these temples and churches, united in the worship of the
Virgin, and consequent upon the "Miraculous Apparition" manifested to the
chosen Indian, Juan Diego.
I regret not having known till lately, that there exists in Mexico a
convent of _Indian Nuns:_ and that each nun, when she takes the veil, wears
a very superb Indian dress--the costume formerly worn by the _cacicas_, or
ladies of highest rank.
I went some days ago with the Señorita F---a to visit a house for insane
women, in the _Calle de Canoa_, built in 1698, by the rich congregation of
_el Salvador_. The institution is now in great want of funds; and is by no
means to be compared with the establishment of San Hipólito. The directress
seems a good kind-hearted woman, who devoted herself to doing her duty, and
who is very gentle to her patients; using no means but those of kindness
and steadiness to subdue their violence. But what a life of fear and
suffering such a situation must be! The inmates look poor and miserable,
generally speaking, and it is difficult to shake off the melancholy
impression which they produce on the mind. We were particularly struck by
the sight of one unfortunate woman of the better class, who, with her long
hair all dishevelled, and eyes sparkling with a wild light, stood at the
open window of her cell, where for the present they are obliged to confine
her, and who poured forth the most piteous lamentations, and adjured every
one who passed, in the most pathetic terms, to restore her husband and
children to her. One girl was singing cheerfully--one or two women were
sewing, but most of them were sitting crouched on the floor, with a look of
melancholy vacancy. The poor are admitted gratis, and the richer classes
pay a moderate sum for their board....
To turn to a very different theme. We continue to go to the opera,
certainly the most agreeable amusement in Mexico, and generally to the
----- Minister's box, in the centre. Last evening, _Belisario_ was
repeated, but with less splendour than on its representation in honour of
Santa Anna.
We expect to leave this on the sixteenth, going in a diligence as far as
Toluca, where a Mexican officer, Colonel Y----, has kindly promised to meet
us with mules and horses. M. le Comte de B---- and Mr. W----, secretaries
of the French and English Legations, have made arrangements for
accompanying us as far as Valadolid; with which agreeable travelling
companions we may reasonably expect a pleasant journey.
Last Sunday was the festival of All Saints; on the evening of which day, we
walked out under the _portales_, with M. and Madame de -----,
----- Minister and his wife, to look at the illumination, and at the
numerous booths filled with _sugar skulls_, etc.; temptingly ranged in
grinning rows, to the great edification of the children. In general there
are crowds of well-dressed people on the occasion of this fête, but the
evening was cold and disagreeable, and though there were a number of
ladies, they were enveloped in shawls, and dispersed early. The old women
at their booths, with their cracked voices, kept up the constant cry of
"Skulls, _niñas_, skulls!"--but there were also animals done in sugar, of
every species, enough to form specimens for a Noah's ark.
14th.-We leave this the day after to-morrow, and shall write from our first
halting-place; and as on our return we shall do little more than pass
through Mexico, we are _almost_ taking leave of all our friends. Were I to
tell you all the kindness and hospitality, and cordial offers of service
that we receive, and the manner in which our rooms (albeit the rooms of an
inn) are filled from morning till night, it would seem an exaggeration. One
acquaintance we have made lately, whom we like so much, that we have been
vociferously abusing the system of _faire part_ in this city, since, owing
to the mistake of a servant, we have until now been deprived of the
pleasure of knowing her. The mistake is rectified at the eleventh hour. The
lady is the Señora de G---z P---a, one of the most accomplished and
well-informed women in Mexico; and though our friendship has been short, I
trust it may be enduring.
Two evenings since, we went with the Señora de C---s to an amateur concert;
and I question whether in any capital of Europe, so many good amateur
voices could be collected. I do not speak of the science or cultivation,
though the hostess, the Señora A----, has a perfect method. But yesterday
we spent a most agreeable evening in a delightful family reunion, at the
house of Señor N---i del B---o. It was strictly limited to the family
relations, and was, I believe, his _jour de fête_. If all Mexican society
resembled this, we should have too much regret in leaving it. The girls
handsome, well educated, and simple in their manners and tastes--the
Countess a model of virtue and dignity. Then so much true affection and
love of home amongst them all! So much wealth and yet good taste and
perfect simplicity visible in all that surrounds them! Mexico is not _lost_
as long as such families exist, and though they mingle little in society,
the influence of their virtues and charities is widely felt.
This morning C---n had an audience of the new president. He also paid a
visit to General Bustamante, who is still at Guadalupe, and preparing for
his departure. He will probably sail in the Jason, the man-of-war which
brought us to Vera Cruz, and it is probable that we shall leave the
republic at the same period. The Dowager Marquesa de Vivanco, who in
consequence of ill health has not left her house for months, was among our
visitors this morning.
To-day Count C---a dined here, and brought for our inspection the splendid
sword presented by Congress to General Valencia, with its hilt of
brilliants and opals; a beautiful piece of workmanship, which does credit
to the Mexican artificers. He was particularly brilliant and eloquent in
his conversation to-day--whether his theories are right or wrong, they are
certainly _entrainant_.
Our next letters will probably be dated from Toluca
LETTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH
Leave Mexico--Diligence--Indian Padre--Brandy-drinking Female--Bad
Roads--Beautiful View--Escort--Good Breakfast--Crosses--Robber's
Head--Select Party--Lerma--Valley of Toluca--Hacienda--Toluca--Count de
B---- and Mr. W------ The Comandante--Gay Supper--Colonel Y------Day at
Toluca--Journey to La Gabia--Heat and Hunger--Pleasant Quarters--Princely
Estate--El Pilar--A Zorillo--A Wolf--Long Journey--Tortillas--Count de
B------State of Michoacán--Forest Scenery--_Trojes of Angangueo_--Comfort.
TOLUCA, 16th.
In vain would be a description with the hopes of bringing them before you,
of our last few days in Mexico!--of the confusion, the bustle, the visits,
the paying of bills, the packing of trunks, the sending off of heavy
luggage to Vera Cruz, and extracting the necessary articles for our
journey; especially yesterday, when we were surrounded by visitors and
_cargadores_, from half-past seven in the morning till half-past eleven at
night. Our very last visitors were the families of C---a and E---n. The new
president, _on dit_, is turning his sword into a ploughshare. Preferring a
country to a city life, nearly every Sunday he names the house in which he
desires to be _fêted_ the following week--now at the villa of
Señor ----- at Tacubaya--now at the hacienda of Señor ----- at San Agustin.
As yet the diplomatic corps do not attend these assemblies, not having been
officially received; but we hear that there is singing and dancing, and
other amusements, and that his excellency is extremely amiable and
_galant_.
By six o'clock this morning several of our friends were assembled to
accompany us to the diligence (Señors C---o, M---e, R---s, A---e, etc.),
which, unfortunately, we had not been able to secure for ourselves; for at
this moment, the whole world is in motion, going to attend the great annual
fair of San Juan de los Lagos; which begins on the fifth of December, and
to which Toluca is the direct road. Fortunately, the diligence had broken
down the preceding evening, and it was necessary to repair it; otherwise we
should have left behind various important articles, for in the confusion of
our departure, every one had left some requisite item at the hotel;--C---n
his gun; K---- her bag; I _everything_--and more especially the book with
which I intended to beguile the weary hours between Mexico and Toluca. Our
servant-boy ran--Señor R---s mounted his horse, and most good-naturedly
galloped between the diligence office and the hotel, until, little by
little, all the missing articles were restored. We climbed into the coach,
which was so crowded that we could but just turn our heads to groan an
adieu to our friends. The coach rattled off through the streets, dashed
through the Alameda, and gradually we began to shake down, and, by a little
arrangement of cloaks and sarapes, to be less crowded. A _padre_ with a
very Indian complexion sat between K---- and me, and a horrible, long,
lean, bird-like female, with immense red goggle-eyes, coal-black teeth,
fingers like claws, a great goitre, and drinking brandy at intervals, sat
opposite to us. There were also various men buried in their sarapes.
Satisfied with a cursory inspection of our companions, I addressed myself
to _Blackwood's Magazine_, but the road which leads towards the Desierto,
and which we before passed on horseback, is dreadful, and the mules could
scarcely drag the loaded coach up the steep hills. We were thrown into
ruts, horribly jolted, and sometimes obliged to get out, which would not
have been disagreeable but for the necessity of getting in again. The day
and the country were beautiful, but impossible to enjoy either in a shut
coach. We were rather thankful when the wheels, sticking in a deep rut, we
were forced to descend, and walk forwards for some time. We had before seen
the view from these heights, but the effect never was more striking than at
this moment. The old city with her towers, lakes, and volcanoes, lay bathed
in the bright sunshine. Not a cloud was in the sky--not an exhalation rose
from the lake--not a shadow was on the mountains. All was bright and
glittering, and flooded in the morning light; while in contrast rose to the
left the dark, pine-covered crags, behind which the Desierto lies.
At Santa Fe we changed horses, and found there an escort which had been
ordered for us by General Tornel; a necessary precaution in these
robber-haunted roads. We stopped to breakfast at _Quajimalpa_, where the
inn is kept by a Frenchman, who is said to be making a large fortune, which
he deserves for the good breakfast he had prepared for us by orders of the
Count de B---- and Mr. W----, who had preceded us early in the morning on
horseback; (enviable fate!). We had white fish from the river of Lerma,
which crosses the plains of Toluca, fresh and well dressed, and without
that taste of _mud_ which those from the Mexican Laguna occasionally have;
also hot cutlets, potatoes, coffee, etc.
After leaving this inn, situated in a country formed of heaps of lava and
volcanic rocks, the landscape becomes more beautiful and wooded. It is,
however, dangerous, on account of the shelter which the wooded mountains
afford to the knights of the road, and to whose predilection for these wild
solitudes, the number of crosses bore witness. In a woody defile there is a
small clear space called "_Las Cruces_," where several wooden crosses point
out the site of the famous battle between the curate Hidalgo and the
Spanish General Truxillo. An object really in keeping with the wild
scenery, was the head of the celebrated robber _MalDoñado_, nailed to the
pine-tree beneath which he committed his last murder. It is now quite
black, and grins there, a warning to his comrades and an encouragement to
travellers. From the age of ten to that of fifty, he followed the
honourable profession of free-trader, when he expiated his crimes. The
padre who was in the coach with us, told us that he heard his last
confession. That grinning skull was once the head of a man, and an ugly one
too, they say; but stranger still it is to think, that that man was once a
baby, and sat on his mother's knee, and that his mother may have been
pleased to see him cut his _first tooth_. If she could but see his teeth
now! Under this very head, and as if to show their contempt for law and
justice, the robbers lately eased some travellers of their luggage. Those
who were robbed, however, were false coiners, rather a common class in
Toluca, and two of these ingenious gentlemen were in the coach with us (as
we afterwards learnt), and were returning to that city. These, with the
brandy-drinking female, composed our select little party!
The scenery without was decidedly preferable to that within, and the
leathern sides of the vehicle being rolled up, we had a tolerable view.
What hills covered with noble pines! What beautiful pasture-fields, dotted
with clumps of trees, that looked as if disposed for effect, as in an
English park!--firs, oaks, cedars, and elms. Arrived at the town or village
of Lerma, famous for its manufacture of spurs, and standing in a marshy
country at the entrance of the valley of Toluca, all danger of the robbers
is passed, and with the danger, much of the beauty of the scenery. But we
breathed more freely on another account, for here she of the goggle-eyes
and goitre, descended with her brandy-bottle, relieving us from the
oppressive influence of the sort of _day_-mare, if there be such a thing,
which her presence had been to us.
The valley of Toluca was now before us, its volcano towering in the
distance. The plains around looked cold and dreary, with pools of
transparent water, and swamps filled with various species of water-fowl.
The hacienda of San Nicolas, the property of Señor Mier y Teran, a
Spaniard, was the only object that we saw worthy of notice, before we
reached Toluca. This hacienda, formerly the property of the Carmelite
monks, is a valuable estate. Not a tree is to be seen here, or in the
valley, a great extent of which is included in it; but it is surrounded by
vast fields of maguey and maize; it is traversed by a fine river, and is
one of the most profitable estates in the country. The labourers here are
in general the Ottomie Indians, a poor and degraded tribe. Here we
dismissed our escort, which had been changed every six leagues, and entered
Toluca about four o'clock, passing the _Garrita_ without the troublesome
operation of searching, to which travellers in general are subject. We
found tolerable rooms in an inn; at least there were two or three wooden
chairs in each, and a deal table in one; and Mr. W---- and the Count de
B---- looking out for us. Colonel Y---- had not yet made his appearance.
Toluca, a large and important city, lies at the foot of the mountain of San
Miguel de _Tutucuitlalpico_; and is an old, quiet, good-looking,
respectable-seeming place, about as sad and solitary as Puebla. The
streets, the square, and the churches are clean and handsome. To the south
of the city lie extensive plains covered with rich crops; and about ten
miles in the same direction is the volcano. We walked out in the afternoon
to the Alameda, passing under the _portales_; handsomer and cleaner than
those of Mexico; and sat down on a stone bench beside a fountain, a
position which commanded a beautiful view of the distant hills and of the
volcano, behind which the sun was setting in a sea of liquid flame, making
it look like a great pearl lying amongst melted rubies. The Alameda has not
been much ornamented, and is quite untenanted; but walks are cut through
the grass, and they were making hay. Everything looked quiet and
convent-like, and a fine fresh air passed over the new-mown grass,
inclining to cold, but pleasant. The volcano is scooped out into a natural
basin, containing, in the very midst of its fiery furnace, two lakes of the
purest, coldest and most transparent water. It is said that the view from
its summit, the ascent to which is very fatiguing, but has been
accomplished, is beautiful and extensive. On the largest lake travellers
have embarked in a canoe, but I believe it has never been crossed, on
account of the vulgar prejudice that it is unfathomable, and has a
whirlpool in the centre. The volcano is about fifteen thousand feet above
the level of the sea, and nine thousand above Toluca. It is not so grand as
Popocatepetl, but a _respectable_ volcano for a country town--_muy
decente_(very decent), as a man said in talking of the pyramids that adorn
the wonderful cavern of Cucuhuamilpa.
We ordered supper at the inn, and were joined by the Comandante of Toluca,
Don M---- A----, the officer who came out to meet us when we arrived in
Mexico. I regret to state that such a distinguished party should have sat
down, six in number, to fowl and frijoles, with only three knives and two
forks between them. The provident travellers had, however, brought good
wine; and if our supper was not very elegant, it was at least very gay.
Colonel Y---- arrived about ten o'clock; but it is agreed that the animals
require one day's rest, and we shall consequently spend to-morrow at
Toluca.
17th.--We have spent this day in arranging our route, in which we are
guided not by the most direct, but the most agreeable; in walking through
the city, which, in the time of federalism, was the capital of the state,
in climbing some of the steep roads cut through the hills, at whose base it
lies; and in admiring the churches and convents, and broad, well-paved
streets with their handsome houses, painted white and red. It is decided
that the first night of our pilgrimage, we shall request hospitality at the
hacienda of the ex-Minister Hechavarria--_La Gabia_, which is about ten
leagues of very bad road from Toluca--which is sixteen from Mexico. All
these important arrangements being made, and a sketch of our journey traced
out, we are about retiring to rest, in the agreeable prospect of not
entering any four or two wheeled vehicle, be it a cart, carriage, coach, or
diligence, till we return here.
LA GABIA, 19th.
To get _under weigh_ the first morning was a work of some difficulty. Mules
to be loaded, horses to be fitted with saddles; and one mule lame, and
another to be procured, and the trunks found to be too heavy, and so on. We
rose at five, dressed by candlelight, took chocolate, put on our mangas,
and then planted ourselves in the passage looking down upon the _patio_, to
watch the proceedings and preparations. Colonel A---- arrived at seven with
a trooper, to accompany us part of the way; and we set off while it was
cool, without waiting for the rest of the party. Toluca looked silent and
dignified as we passed through the streets--with its old convents and dark
hills. The road, after leaving the city, was stony and mountainous; and
having reached a small _rancho_ with an old oratorio beside it, we halted
to wait for our travelling companions. Colonel A---- amused us with an
account of his warfare against the Comanches, in which service he had been
terribly wounded. Singular contrast between these ferocious barbarians and
the mild Indians of the interior! He considers them an exceedingly
handsome, fine-looking race; whose resources, both for war and trade, are
so great, that were it not for their natural indolence, the difficulties of
checking their aggression would be formidable indeed. Colonel A---- being
obliged to return to Toluca, left us in charge of his trooper, and we
waited at the rancho for about half an hour, when our party appeared with a
long train of mules and _mozos_; the gentlemen dressed Mexican fashion as
well as their men; the best dress in the world for a long equestrian
journey. Colonel Y---- had staid behind to procure another mule, and there
being two roads, we, as generally happens in these cases, chose the worst;
which led us for leagues over a hilly country, unenlivened by tree, shrub,
bush, or flower. The sun was already high, and the day intensely hot. We
passed an occasional poor hut--a chance Indian passed us--showed his white
teeth, and, in spite of the load on his back, contrived to draw his hat off
his matted locks, and give us a mild good morrow--but for the rest, from
Dan to Beersheba, from Toluca to La Gabia, all was barren. By twelve
o'clock we might have fancied ourselves passing over the burning plains of
Mesopotamia, notwithstanding an occasional cold breeze which swept across
us for a moment, serving only to make us feel the heat with greater force.
Then barranca followed barranca. The horses climbed up one crag, and slid
down another. By two o'clock we were all starving with hunger, but nothing
was to be had. Even Nebuchadnezzar would have found himself at a nonplus.
The Count de B---- contrived to buy some graniditas and parched corn from
an Indian, which kept us quiet for a little while; and we tried to console
ourselves by listening to our arrieros, who struck up some wild songs in
chorus, as they drove the wearied mules up the burning hills. Every Indian
that we met assured us that La Gabia was "_cerquita_," quite near--"_detras
lomita_," behind the little hill; and every little hill that we passed
presented to our view another little hill, but no signs of the
much-wished-for dwelling. A more barren, treeless, and uninteresting
country than this road (on which we have unanimously revenged our-selves by
giving it the name of "the road of the three hundred barrancas") led us
through, I never beheld. However, "it's a long lane that has no turning,"
as we say in Scotland; and between three and four, La Gabia was actually in
sight; a long, low building, whose entrance appeared to us the very gates
of Eden. We were all, but especially me, who had ridden with my veil up,
from a curiosity to see where my horse was going, burnt to the colour of
Pawnee Indians.
We were most cordially welcomed by Señor Hechavarria and his
brothers-in-law, and soon refreshed by rest and an excellent dinner.
Fortunately K---- and I had no mirrors; but each gave such a flattering
description of the other's countenance, that it was quite graphic.
This beautiful hacienda, which formerly belonged to the Count de Regla,
whose possessions must have been royal, is thirty leagues in length and
seventeen in width--containing in this great space the productions of every
climate, from the fir-clad mountains on a level with the volcano of Toluca,
to the fertile plains which produce corn and maize; and lower down, to
fields of sugar-cane and other productions of the tropics.
We retired to rest betimes, and early this morning rode out with these
gentlemen, about five leagues through the hacienda. The morning was bright
and exhilarating, and our animals being tired, we had fresh, strong little
horses belonging to their stud, which carried us delightfully. We rode
through beautiful pine-woods and beside running water, contrasting
agreeably with our yesterday's journey; and were accompanied by three
handsome little boys, children of the family, the finest and manliest
little fellows I ever saw, who, dressed in a complete Mexican costume, like
three miniature rancheros, rode boldly and fearlessly over everything.
There was a great deal of firing at crows and at the wild duck on a
beautiful little lake, but I did not observe that any one was burdened with
too much game. We got off our horses to climb through the wooded hills and
ravines, and passed some hours lying under the pine-trees, listening to the
gurgling of the little brook, whose bright waters make music in the
solitude; and, like the soldiers at the _pronunciamiento_, but with surer
aim, pelting each other from behind the parapets of the tall trees, with
fir tops. About ten o'clock we returned to breakfast; and Colonel
Y---- having arrived, we are now preparing to continue our journey this
afternoon.
ANGANGUBO, 20th.
We left La Gabia at four o'clock, accompanied by our hospitable hosts for
some leagues, all their own princely property, through great
pasture-fields, woods of fir and oak, hills clothed with trees, and fine
clear streams. We also passed a valuable stone-quarry; and were shown a
hill belonging to the Indians, presented to them by a former proprietor. We
formed a long train, and I pitied the mistress of _El Pilar_, our next
halting-place, upon whom such a regiment was about to be unexpectedly
quartered. There were C---n, K----, and I, and a servant; the Count de
B---- and his servant; Mr. W---- and his servant; Colonel Y---- and his
men; mules, arrieros, spare mules, and led horses; and all the _mozos_
armed, forming altogether a formidable gang. We took leave of the
Hechavarria family when it was already growing dusk, and when the moon had
risen found we had taken a great round; so that it was late at night when
we arrived at _El Pilar_, a small hacienda, situated in a wild-looking,
solitary part of the country. A servant had been sent forward to inform the
lady of the establishment of our approach, and we were most kindly
received. The house is clean and pretty, and, tired as we were, the _sala_,
boasting of an old piano, tempted us to try a waltz while they were
preparing supper. The man who waited at table, before he removed the
things, popped down upon his knees, and recited a long prayer aloud. The
gentlemen had one apartment prepared for them--we another, in which, nay,
even in the large four-posted and well-curtained bed allotted to us, Madame
Yturbide had slept when on her way to Mexico before her coronation. The
Señora M---- also showed us her picture, and spoke of her and the emperor
with great enthusiasm.
This morning we rose by candlelight, at five o'clock, with the prospect of
a long ride, having to reach the _Trojes of Angangueo_, a mining district
(_trojes_ literally mean granaries), fourteen leagues from El Pilar. The
morning was cold and raw, with a dense fog covering the plains, so that we
could scarcely see each other's faces, and found our _mangas_ particularly
agreeable. We were riding quickly across these ugly marshy wastes, when a
curious animal crossed our path, a _zorillo_, or _epatl_, as the Indians
call it, and which Bouffon mentions under the generic name of _mouffêtes_.
It looks like a brown and white fox, with an enormous tail, which it holds
up like a great feather in the air. It is known not only for the beauty of
its skin, but for the horrible and pestilential odour with which it defends
itself when attacked, and which poisons the air for miles around.
Notwithstanding the warnings of the _mozos_ as to its peculiar mode of
defence, the gentlemen pursued it with guns and pistols, on horseback and
on foot, but fired in vain. The beast seemed bullet-proof; turning,
doubling, winding, crossing pools, hiding itself, stopping for a moment as
if it were killed, and then trotting off again with its feathery tail much
higher than its head; so that it seemed to be running backwards. The fog
favoured it very much. It was certainly wounded in the paw, and as it
stopped and seemed to hesitate, the sportsmen thought they had caught him;
but a minute afterwards away went the waving tail amongst the pools and the
marshy grass, the zorillo, no doubt, accompanying it, though we could not
see him, and fortunately without resorting to any offensive or defensive
measures. While they were chasing the zorillo, and we had rode a little way
off, that we might not be accidentally shot in the fog, an immense wolf
came looming by in the mist, with its stealthy gallop, close to our horses,
causing us to shout for the sportsmen; but our numbers frightened it;
besides which, it had but just breakfasted on a mule belonging to the
hacienda, as we were told by the son of the proprietress of El Pilar, who,
hearing all this distant firing, had ridden out to inquire into its cause,
supposing that we might have lost our way in the fog, and were firing
signals of distress.
We continued our journey across these plains for about three leagues, when
the sun rose and scattered the mist; and after crossing a river, we entered
the woods and rode between the shadows of the trees, through lovely forest
scenery, interspersed with dells and plains and sparkling rivulets. But by
the time we left these woods, and made our way up amongst the hills, the
sun was riding high in the heavens, the pastures and green trees
disappeared, and, though the country was still fertile and the soil rich,
its beauties lay hid in the valleys below. K----'s horse received a sort of
_coup de soleil_, shivered and trembled, and would not go on; so she
mounted another, and one of the _mozos_ led hers slowly by a different road
to a village, to be watered. About one o'clock we began to wish for
breakfast, but the mules which carried the provisions had taken a different
path, and were not in sight; so that, arriving at an Indian hut close by a
running stream, we were unanimous in dismounting, and at least procuring
some _tortillas_ from the inmates. At the same time, the Count
de ----- very philanthropically hired an old discoloured-looking horse,
which was grazing peaceably outside the hut, and mounting the astonished
quadruped, who had never, in his wildest dreams, calculated upon having so
fine a chevalier on his back, galloped off in search of more solid food,
while we set the Indian women to baking _tortillas_. He returned in about
half an hour, with some bones of boiled mutton, tied up in a handkerchief!
some salt, and thick tortillas, called _gorditas_, and was received with
immense applause. Everything vanished in an incredibly short space of time,
and we resumed our journey with renewed vigour. Towards the afternoon we
entered the state of Michoacán, by a road (destined to be a highway) traced
through great pine-forests, after stopping once more to rest at _Las
Millas_, a few huts, or rather wooden cages, at the outskirts of the wood.
Nothing can be more beautiful or romantic than this road, ascending through
these noble forests, whose lofty oaks and gigantic pines clothe the
mountains to their highest summits; sometimes so high, that, as we look
upwards, the trees seem diminished to shrubs and bushes; the sun darting
his warm, golden light between the dark-green extended branches of these
distant forest pyramids, so that they seem to be basking in the very focus
of his rays. Untrodden and virgin as these forests appear, an occasional
cross, with its withered garland, gives token of life, and also of death;
and green and lonely is the grave which the traveller has found among these
Alpine solitudes, under the shadows of the dark pine, on a bed of fragrant
wild-flowers, fanned by the pure air from the mountain-tops. The flowers
which grow under the shade of the trees are beautiful and gay in their
colours. Everywhere there are blue lupins, marigolds, dahlias, and
innumerable blossoms with Indian names. Sometimes we dismounted and walked
up the steepest parts, to rest our horses and ourselves; but, as it was
impossible to go fast on these stony paths, it became entirely dark before
Angangueo was in sight; and the road, which, for a great part of the way,
is remarkably good, now led us down a perpendicular descent amongst the
trees, covered with rocks and stones, so that the horses stumbled, and one,
which afterwards proved to be blind of one eye, and not to see very clearly
with the other, fell and threw his rider, who was not hurt. It was near
eight o'clock (and we had been on horseback since six in the morning),
when, after crossing a shallow stream, we saw the fires of the furnaces of
Angangueo, a mining village, at the foot of some wild hills. We rode past
the huts, where the blazing fires were shining on the swarthy faces of the
workmen, the road skirting the valley, till we reached the house of Don
Carlos Heimbürger, a Polish gentleman at the head of the German mining
establishment. This house, the only one of any consequence at Angangueo, is
extremely pretty, with a piazza in front, looking down upon the valley,
which at night seems like the dwelling of the Cyclops, and within a very
picture of comfort. We were welcomed by the master of the house, and by
Madame B---n, a pretty and accomplished German lady, the wife of a
physician who resides there. We had already known her in Mexico, and were
glad to renew our acquaintance in this outlandish spot. One must have
travelled fourteen leagues, from morning till night, to know how
comfortable her little drawing-room appeared, with its well-cushioned red
sofas, bright lights, and vases of flowers, as we came in from the cold and
darkness, and how pretty and _extra_-civilized she looked in her black
satin gown, not to mention the excellent dinner and the large fires, for
they have chimneys in this part of the world. In a nice little bedroom,
with a cheerful fire, the second time I have seen one in two years, I
indite these particulars, and shall continue from our next place of rest.
LETTER THE FORTY-NINTH
Leave _Trojes_--Beautiful Territory--Tarrascan Indians--Taximaroa--
Distressed Condition--An Improvement--Cold Morning--Querendaro--Fine Breed
of Horses--San Bartolo--Produce--Country Proprietors--_Colear_--Ride to
Morelia--Wild Ducks--Sunset--Cathedral Bell--Cuincho--Curates Morelos,
Mantamoros and Hidalgo--Warm Baths--Handsome Girls--Starving Travellers--
Lost Mules--Lancers--Night on a Heap of Straw--Mules Found--Tzintzontzan--
King Calsonsi--Pascuaro--Kind Reception--Bishop--Robbers--Curu--Night in a
Barn--Mountain--Uruapa--Enchanting Scenery--Pleasant Family--Jorullo.
VALLADOLID, 25th.
As the house was so agreeable, and our next day's journey short, we could
not prevail upon ourselves to leave the _Trojes_ before nine o'clock; and
even then, with the hopes of spending some time there on our return to see
the mining establishment; the mills for grinding ore, the horizontal
water-wheels, etc., etc.; and still more, the beautiful scenery in the
neighbourhood.
That you may understand our line of march, take a map of Mexico, and you
will see that Michoacán, one of the most beautiful and fertile territories
in the world, is bounded on the north by the river Lerma, afterwards known
by the name of Rio Grande; also by the department of Guanajuato; to the
east and north-east it bounds that of Mexico, and to the west, that of
Guadalajara. It lies on the western slope of the Great Cordillera of
Anahuac. Hills, woods, and beautiful valleys diversify its surface; its
pasture-grounds are watered by numerous streams, that rare advantage under
the torrid zone, and the climate is cool and healthy. The Indians of this
department are the Terascos--the Ottomi and the Chichimeca Indians. The
first are the most civilized of the tribes, and their language the most
harmonious. We are now travelling in a north-westerly direction, towards
the capital of the state, Valladolid, or Morelia, as it has been called
since the independence, in honour of the curate Morelos, its great
supporter.
We had a pleasant ride of nine leagues through an open pasture-country,
meeting with nothing very remarkable on our journey, but an Indian woman
seated on the ground, her Indian husband standing beside her. Both had
probably been refreshing themselves with pulque--perhaps even with its
homoeopathic extract _mezcal_; but the Indian was sober and sad, and stood
with his arms folded, and the most patient and pitying face, while his
wife, quite overcome with the strength of the potation, and unable to go
any further, looked up at him with the most imploring air, saying
repeatedly--"_Mátame, Miguel, mátame_" (Kill me, Miguel--kill me)--
apparently considering herself quite unfit to live.
About five o'clock we came in sight of the pretty village and old church of
_Taximaroa_; and riding up to the _mesón_, or inn, found two empty dark
rooms with mud floors--without windows, in fact without anything but their
four walls--neither bench, chair, nor table. Although we travel with our
own beds, this looked rather uninviting, especially after the pleasant
quarters we had just left; and we turned our eyes wistfully towards a
pretty small house upon a hill, with a painted portico, thinking how
agreeably situated we should be there! Colonel Y---- thereupon rode up the
hill, and presenting himself to the owner of this house, described our
forlorn prospects, and he kindly consented to permit us all to sup there,
and moreover to receive the ladies for the night. For the gentlemen he had
no room, having but one spare apartment, as one of his family was a great
invalid, and could not be moved. Accordingly, our travelling luggage was
carried up the hill; the horses and mules and servants were quartered in
the village, the gentlemen found lodging for themselves in a bachelor's
house, and we found ourselves in very agreeable quarters, on a pretty
piazza, with an extensive view, and one large room, containing a table and
some benches, at our service. Meanwhile, M. de B---- rushed through the
village, finding eggs and hens and tortillas, and then returning, he and
Mr. W---- produced the travelling stores of beef and tongue, and set about
making mustard and drawing bottles of wine, to the great wonderment and
edification of the honest proprietor. Even a clean tablecloth was produced;
a piece of furniture which he had probably never seen before, and now eyed
wistfully, doubtless taking it for a _sheet_. We had a most amusing supper,
some performing dexterously with penknives, and others using tortillas as
forks. We won the heart of the _bourgeois_ by sending a cup of tea to his
invalid, and inviting him to partake of another, which he seemed to
consider a rare and medicinal beverage. About nine o'clock the gentlemen
departed to their lodgings, and our beds were erected in the large room
where we had supped; the man assuring us that he was quite pleased to have
us under his roof, and liked our company extremely well; adding, "_Me
cuadra mucho la gente decente_" (I am very fond of decent people).
We left Taximaroa at six o'clock, having spent rather a disturbed night, in
consequence of the hollow coughs with which the whole family seemed
afflicted, at least the poor invalid on one side of our room, and the
master of the house on the other. The morning was so cold, that every manga
and sarape was put in requisition. Our ride this day was through superb
scenery, every variety of hill and valley, water and wood, particularly the
most beautiful woods of lofty oaks, the whole with scarcely a trace of
cultivation, and for the most part entirely uninhabited. Our numbers were
augmented by Colonel Y----'s troop, who rode from Morelia to meet him. We
had a long journey, passed by the little village of _San Andrés_, and
stopped to eat _tortillas_ in a very dirty hut at Pueblo Viejo, surrounded
by the dirtiest little Indian children. Throughout the whole ride, the
trees and flowering shrubs were beautiful, and the scenery so varied, that
although we rode for eleven hours in a hot sun, we scarcely felt fatigued,
for wherever there are trees and water and fresh green grass, the eye is
rested. In this and in our last few days' journey, we saw a number of blue
birds, called by the common people _guardía-bosques_, wood guardians. About
half-past five we entered a winding road, through a natural shrubbery,
leading to _Querendaro_, the fine hacienda of Señor Pimentel, a senator.
When we arrived the family were at dinner, and we were invited to join
them, after which we went out to see the hacienda, and especially the
handsome and well-kept stables, where the proprietor has a famous breed of
horses, some of which were trotted out for our inspection--beautiful,
spirited creatures--one called "_Hilo de Oro_" (golden thread)--another,
"_Pico Blanco_" (white mouth), etc. In the inner courtyard are many
beautiful and rare flowers, and everything is kept in great order.
At nine o'clock the following morning we left Querendaro, and rode on to
_San Bartolo_, a vast and beautiful property, belonging to Señor Don
Joaquin Gomez, of Valladolid. The family were from home, with the exception
of his son and nephew, who did the honours of the house with such cordial
and genuine hospitality, that we felt perfectly at home before the day was
over. I think the Mexican character is never seen to such advantage as in
the country, amongst these great landed proprietors of old family, who live
on their own estates, engaged in agricultural pursuits, and entirely
removed from all the party feeling and petty interests of a city life. It
is true that the life of a country gentleman here is that of a hermit, in
the total absence of all society, in the nearly unbroken solitude that
surrounds him. For leagues and leagues there is no habitation but his own;
the nearest miserable village may be distant half a day's journey, over an
almost impassable road. He is "monarch of all he surveys," a king amongst
his farm servants and Indian workmen. Nothing can exceed the independence
of his position; but to enjoy this wild country life, he must be born to
it. He must be a first-rate horseman, and addicted to all kinds of country
sport; and if he can spend the day in riding over his estate, in directing
his workmen, watching over his improvements, redressing disputes and
grievances, and can sit down in the evening in his large and lonely halls,
and philosophically bury himself in the pages of some favourite author,
then his time will probably not hang heavy on his hands.
As for the _young master_ here, he was up with the lark--he was on the most
untractable horse in the hacienda, and away across the fields with his
followers, chasing the bulls as he went--he was fishing--he was
shooting--he was making bullets--he was leagues off at a village, seeing a
country bull-fight--he was always in a good humour, and so were all who
surrounded him--he was engaged in the dangerous amusement of _colear_
--and by the evening it would have been a clever writer who had kept _his_
eyes open after such a day's work. Never was there a young lad more
evidently fitted for a free life in the country.
There was a generous, frank liberality apparent in everything in this
hacienda, that it was agreeable to witness; nothing petty or calculating.
Señor -----, lame through an accident, and therefore unable to mount his
horse, or to go far on foot, seemed singularly gentle and kind-hearted. The
house is one of the prettiest and most cheerful we have seen yet; but we
passed a great stone building on the road, which the proprietor of San
Bartolo is having constructed for one of his family, which, if it keep its
promise, will be a palace when finished. The principal produce of this
hacienda is _pimiento_, the capsicum. There is the _pimiento dulce_ and the
_pimiento picante_, the sweet fruit of the common capsicum, and the fruit
of the bird pepper capsicum. The Spaniards gave to all these peppers the
name of _chile_, which they borrowed from the Indian word _quauhchilli_,
and which, to the native Mexicans, is as necessary an ingredient of food as
salt is to us. At dinner we had the greatest variety of fine fruit, and
pulque, which is particularly good in this neighbourhood. They also make
here a quantity of excellent cheese.
After dinner they proceeded to amuse us with the _colear_ of the bulls, of
which amusement the Mexicans throughout the whole republic are passionately
fond. They collect a herd, single out several, gallop after them on
horseback; and he who is most skilful, catches the bull by the tail, passes
it under his own right leg, turns it round the high pummel of his saddle,
and wheeling his horse round at right angles by a sudden movement, the bull
falls on his face. Even boys of ten years old joined in this sport. It is
no wonder that the Mexicans are such _centaurs_, seeming to form part and
parcel of their horses, accustomed as they are from childhood to these
dangerous pastimes. This is very dangerous, since the horses' legs
constantly get entangled with those of the falling bull, which throws both
horse and rider. Manifold are the accidents which result from it, but they
are certainly not received as warnings; and after all, such sports, where
there is nothing bloody, nor even cruel, saving the thump which the bull
gets, and the mortification which he no doubt feels, but from both of which
he soon recovers; and which are mere games of skill, trials of address--are
manly and strengthening, and help to keep up the physical superiority of
that fine race of men--the Mexican _rancheros_.
The next day we parted from our travelling companions, the Count de
B---- and Mr. W----, who are on their way to the fair of San Juan, and are
from thence going to _Tepic_, even to the shores of the Pacific Ocean.
Unfortunately, our time is limited, and we cannot venture on so distant an
expedition; but we greatly regretted separating from such pleasant
_compagnons de voyage_. We spent the morning in walking about the hacienda,
seeing cheese made, and visiting the handsome chapel, the splendid stone
granaries, the great mills, etc. We also hope to spend some time here on
our return. By letters received this morning from Mexico, we find that
Señor Gomez Pedraza has left the ministry.
As we had but six leagues to ride in order to reach Morelia, we did not
leave San Bartolo till four in the afternoon, and enjoyed a pretty ride
through a fertile and well-wooded country, the road good and the evening
delightful. As the sun set, millions and tens of millions of ducks, in
regular ranks and regiments, darkening the air, flew over our heads,
changing their quarters from one lake to another. Morelia is celebrated for
the purity of its atmosphere and the exceeding beauty of its sky; and this
evening upheld its reputation. Toward sunset, the whole western horizon was
covered with myriads of little lilac and gold clouds, floating in every
fantastic form over the bright blue of the heavens. The lilac deepened into
purple, blushed into rose-colour, brightened into crimson. The blue of the
sky assumed that green tint peculiar to an Italian sunset. The sun himself
appeared a globe of living flame. Gradually he sank in a blaze of gold and
crimson, while the horizon remained lighted as by the flame from a volcano.
Then his brilliant retinue of clouds, after blazing for a while in borrowed
splendour, melted gradually into every rainbow hue and tinge; from deep
crimson to rose-colour and pink and pale violet and faint blue, floating in
silvery vapour, until they all blended into one soft gray tinge, which
swept over the whole western sky. But then the full moon rose in cloudless
serenity, and at length we heard, faintly, then more distinctly, and then
in all its deep and sonorous harmony, the tolling of the cathedral bell,
which announced our vicinity to a great city. It has a singular effect,
after travelling for some days through a wild country, seeing nothing but a
solitary hacienda, or an Indian hut, to enter a fine city like Morelia,
which seems to have started up as by magic in the midst of the wilderness,
yet bearing all the traces of a venerable old age. By moonlight, it looked
like a panorama of Mexico; with a fine square, portales, cathedral, broad
streets, and good houses. We rode through the city, to the house of Colonel
Y----, where we now are; but as we intend to continue our journey to its
furthest limits without stopping, we are now, after a night's rest,
preparing to resume our ride. They are saddling the horses, strapping on
the sarapes behind the saddles, taking down and packing up our _lits de
voyage_, and loading the mules, all which is a work of time. On our return
we hope to remain here a few days, to see everything that is worthy of
notice.
PASCUARO.
Accompanied by several gentlemen of Morelia, who came early in the morning
to see C---n, we set off for the warm baths of _Cuincho_; and as we rode
along, the hill of _Las Bateas_ was pointed out to us, where, by order of
the Curate Morelos, two hundred Spaniards were murdered in cold blood, to
revenge the death of his friend, the Curate Matamoros, who was taken
prisoner and shot by orders of Yturbide. Horrible cruelty in a Christian
priest! It is singular, that the great leaders of the independence should
have been ecclesiastics; the Curate Hidalgo its prime mover, the Curates
Morelos and Matamoros the principal chiefs. Hidalgo, it is said, had no
plan, published no manifesto, declared no opinions; but rushed from city to
city at the head of his men, displaying on his colours an image of the
Virgin of Guadalupe, and inciting his troops to massacre the Spaniards.
Morelos was an Indian, uneducated, but brave and enterprising, and
considered the mildest and most merciful of these soldier priests!
Matamoros, equally brave, was better informed. Both were good generals, and
both misused the power which their position gave them over the minds of the
unenlightened populace. When Morelos became generalissimo of the
revolutionary forces, he took a step fatal to his interests, and which led
to his ultimate ruin. He formed a congress, which met at Chilpansingo, and
was composed of lawyers and clergymen; ignorant and ambitious men, who
employed themselves in publishing absurd decrees and impossible laws, in
assigning salaries to themselves, and giving each other the title of
_Excellency_. Disputes and divisions arose amongst them; and, in 1814, they
published an absurd and useless document in the village of Apatzingan, to
which they gave the name of the "Mexican Constitution." The following year,
Morelos was defeated in an engagement which took place in the environs of
Tesmelaca, taken prisoner, led to Mexico, and, after a short trial,
degraded from his ecclesiastical functions, and shot in the village of San
Cristobal Ecatepec, seven leagues from the capital. The revolutionary party
considered him as a martyr in the cause of liberty, and he is said to have
died like a true hero. The appellation of Morelia, given to the city of
Valladolid, keeps his name in remembrance, but her blood-stained mountain
is a more lasting record of his cruelty.
A vile action is recorded of a Spaniard, whose name, which deserves to be
branded with infamy, escapes me at this moment. The soldiers of Morelos
having come in search of him, he, standing at his door, pointed out his
brother, who was in a room inside the house, as the person whom they
sought; and escaped himself, leaving his brother to be massacred in his
place. We contrasted the conduct of this miserable wretch with the noble
action of the Prince de Polignac, under similar circumstances.
At half-past ten, after a pleasant ride of about five leagues, we arrived
at the natural hot springs of Cuincho. The place is quite wild, the scenery
very striking. The building consists of two very large baths, two very damp
rooms, and a kitchen. The baths are kept by a very infirm old man, a martyr
to intermitting fever, and two remarkably handsome girls, his daughters,
who live here completely alone, and, except in summer, when the baths are
resorted to by a number of _canonigos_ and occasional gentlemen from
Morelia, "waste their sweetness on the desert air." The house, such as it
is, lies at the foot of rocky hills, covered with shrubs, and pouring down
streams of hot water from their volcanic bosoms. All the streams that cross
your path are warm. You step by chance into a little streamlet, and find
the water of a most agreeable temperature. They put this water in earthen
jars to cool, in order to render it fit for drinking, but it never becomes
fresh and cold. It contains muriatic acid, without any trace of sulphur or
metallic salt. I think it is Humboldt who supposes that in this part of
Mexico there exists, at a great depth in the interior of the earth, a
fissure running from east to west, for one hundred and thirty-seven
leagues, through which, bursting the external crust of the porphyritic
rocks, the volcanic fire has opened itself a passage at different times,
from the coasts of the Mexican Gulf, as far as the South Sea. The famous
volcano of Jorullo is in this department, and boiling fountains are common
in various parts of it.
We stopped here to take a bath, and found the temperature of the water
delicious, about the ordinary temperature of the human body. The baths are
rather dark, being enclosed in great stone walls, with the light coming
from a very small aperture near the roof. A bird, that looked like a wild
duck, was sailing about in the largest one, having made its entry along
with the water when it was let in. I never bathed in any water which I so
much regretted leaving. After bathing, we waited for the arrival of our
mules, which were to follow us at a gentle pace, that we might have
breakfast, and continue our journey to _Pascuaro_, a city nine leagues
farther.
But several hours passed away, and no mules appeared; and at length we came
to the grievous conviction that the arrieros had mistaken the road, and
that we must expect neither food nor beds that night; for it was now too
late to think of reaching Pascuaro. In this extremity, the gentlemen from
Morelia, suffering for their politeness in having escorted us, the two
damsels of the bath, naiads of the boiling spring, pitying our hungry
condition, came to offer their services; one asked me if I should like "to
eat a _burro_ in the mean time?" A _burro_ being an _ass_, I was rather
startled at the proposition, and assured her that I should infinitely
prefer waiting a little longer before resorting to so desperate a measure.
"Some people call them pecadoras," (female sinners!) said her sister. Upon
this, the gentlemen came to our assistance, and burros or pecadoras were
ordered forthwith. They proved to be hot tortillas, with cheese in them,
and we found them particularly good. It grew late, but no mules arrived;
and at length the young ladies and their father rushed out desperately,
caught an old hen that was wandering amongst the hills, killed, skinned,
and put it into a pot to boil, baked some fresh tortillas, and brought us
the spoil in triumph! One penknife was produced--the boiling pan placed on
a deal table in the room off the bath, and every one, surrounding the fowl,
a tough old creature, who must have chuckled through many revolutions, we
ate by turns, and concluded with a comfortable drink of lukewarm water.
We then tried to beguile the time by climbing amongst the hills at the back
of the house--by pushing our way through the tangled briers--by walking to
a little lake, where there were ducks and waterfowl, and close to the
margin a number of fruit trees. We returned to the baths--the mules had not
been heard of--there was no resource but patience. Our Morelian friends
left us to return home before it should grow dusk; and shortly after, an
escort of twenty-three lancers, with a captain, arrived by orders of the
governor, Don Panfilo Galiudo, to accompany us during the remainder of our
journey. They looked very picturesque, with their lances, and little
scarlet flags, and gave a very formidable aspect to the little portico in
front of the baths, where they deposited all their military
accoutrements--their saddles, guns, sarapes, etc. The captain had with him
his wife and daughter, and a baby of about two years old, which, during all
the time they were with us, was constantly carried by one of the soldiers,
with the utmost care, in front of his horse.
Meanwhile, the moon rose, and we walked about disconsolate, in front of the
baths--fearing greatly that some accident might have overtaken our
unescorted mules and servants; that the first might be robbed--and that the
drivers might be killed. But it was as well to try to sleep if it were only
to get over the interminable night; and at length some clean straw was
procured, and spread in a corner of the damp floor. There K---- and I lay
down in our mangas. C---n procured another corner--Colonel Y---- a third,
and then and thus, we addressed ourselves seriously to repose, but in vain.
Between cold and mosquitoes and other animals, we could not close our eyes,
and were thankful to rise betimes, shake the straw off, and resume our
march.
The road was pretty and flowery when the light came in, and we gradually
began to open our eyes, after taking leave of our fair hostesses and their
father. When I say _the road_ you do not, I trust, imagine us riding along
a dusty highway. I am happy to say that we are generally the discoverers of
our own pathways. Every man his own Columbus. Sometimes we take short cuts,
which prove to be long rounds:
"Over hill, over dale,
Through bush, through brier;"
through valley and over stream; and this kind of journey has something in
it so independent and amusing, that with all its fatigues and
inconveniences, we find it delightful--far preferable even to travelling in
the most commodious London-built carriage, bowling along the queen's
highway with four swift posters, at the rate of twelve miles an hour.
Arrived at the huts, we stopped to make inquiries concerning the mules. Two
loaded mules, the peasants said, had been robbed in the night, and the men
tied to a tree on the low road leading to Pascuaro. We rode on uneasy
enough, and at another hut were told that many robbers had been out in the
night, and that amongst others, a woman had been robbed and bound hand and
foot. The road now became bleak and uninteresting, the sun furiously hot,
and we rode forward with various misgivings as to the fate of the party;
when at a cluster of huts called _el Correo_, we came up with the whole
concern. The arrieros had forgotten the name of Cuincho, and not knowing
where to go, had stopped here the previous night, knowing that, we were
bound for Pascuaro, and must pass that way. They had arrived early, and
missed the robbers.
We stopped to breakfast at some huts called La Puerta de Chapultepec, where
we got some tortillas from a halfcaste Indian, who was in great distress,
because his wife had run off from him for the fourth time with "another
gentleman!" He vowed that though he had taken her back three times, he
never would receive her more; yet I venture to say, that when the false
fair one presents herself, she will find him placable; he is evidently in
such distress at having no woman to take care of his house.
After leaving Chapultepec, the scenery improves, and at length we had a
beautiful view of the hills, at the foot of which lies the ancient city of
_Tzintzontsan_, close by the opposite shore of the Lake of Pascuaro;
formerly capital of the independent kingdom of Michoacán, an important
city, called at the time of Cortes, _Hurtzitzila_. It was formerly the
residence of the monarch, King _Calsonsi_, an ally of Cortes, and who, with
his Indian subjects, assisted him in his Mexican war. It is now a poor
Indian village, though it is said that some remains of the monarch's palace
still exist. _Apropos_ to which, we have several times observed, since we
entered this state, large stones lying in fields, or employed in fences,
with strange hieroglyphic characters engraved on them, some of which may be
curious and interesting.
The view as we approach Pascuaro with its beautiful lake studded with
little islands, is very fine. The bells were tolling, and they were letting
off rockets for some Indian festival, and we met parties of the natives who
had been keeping the festival upon _pulque_ or _mezcal_ (a strong spirit)
and were stumbling along in great glee. We came up to an old church, that
looks like a bird's-nest amongst the trees, and stands at the outskirts of
the city. Here, it is said, his Majesty of Michoacán came out to meet his
Spanish ally, when he entered this territory.
Pascuaro is a pretty little city with sloping roofs, situated on the shores
of the lake of the same name, and in front of the little Indian village of
Janicho, built on a beautiful small island in the midst of the lake. C---n
says that Pascuaro resembles a town in Catalonia. It is entirely unlike any
other Mexican city. We made a great sensation as we entered with our
lancers and mules, tired and dust-becovered as we were, and brought all the
_Pascuaranians_ to their balconies. We passed churches bearing the date of
1580! We went to the largest and best house in the town, that of Don Miguel
H---a (a friend of Colonel Y----'s). He was from home, but we were most
hospitably entertained by his wife, who received us without any unnecessary
ceremony or compliments, and made us quite at home. We walked out with her
by moonlight to see the Square and the Portales, which is a promenade in
the evening, and were followed by crowds of little boys; strangers being
rather an uncommon spectacle here. The only foreign lady, Doña ----- says,
whoever was here in her recollection, was a Frenchwoman, to whom she was
very much attached, the daughter of a physician, and whose husband was
murdered by the robbers.
This morning, the weather being cold and rainy, and our quarters too
agreeable to leave in any violent haste, we agreed to remain until
to-morrow, and have spent a pleasant day in this fine large house, with
Doña -----, and her numerous and handsome children. We have not been able
to visit the lake, or the Indian islands on account of the weather, but we
hope to do so on our return from _Uruapa_, our next destination. Our
hostess is a most agreeable person; lively, kind-hearted, and full of
natural talent. We did not expect to meet such a person in this corner of
the world.
The first bishop of Michoacán, Vasco de Quiroga, who died in Uruapa, was
buried in Pascuaro, and the Indians of this state still venerate his
memory. He was the father and benefactor of these Tarrascan Indians, and
went fast to rescue them from their degraded state. He not only preached
morality, but encouraged industry amongst them, by assigning to each
village its particular branch of commerce. Thus one was celebrated for its
manufacture of saddles, another for its shoes, a third for its _bateos_
(painted trays), and so on. Every useful institution, of which some traces
still remain amongst them, is due to this excellent prelate; an example of
what one good and zealous and well-judging man can effect.
We have been taking another stroll by moonlight, the rain having ceased; we
have lingered over a pleasant supper, and have wished Doña ----- goodnight.
Yet let me not forget, before laying down my pen, to celebrate the
excellence of the white fish from the lake! so greatly surpassing in
excellence and flavour those which we occasionally have in Mexico. These no
doubt must have constituted "_the provisions_," which according to
tradition, were carried by regular running posts, from Tzintzontzan to
Montezuma's palace in Mexico, and with such expedition, that though the
distance is about one hundred leagues, they were placed, still smoking, on
the Emperor's table!
URUAPA, 30th.
We went to mass at six o'clock; and then took leave of the Señora H---a,
who gave us a cordial invitation to spend some days with her on our return.
It was about eight o'clock when we left Pascuaro, and mounted the hills
over which our road lay, and stopped to look down on the beautiful lake,
lying like a sheet of silver in the sun, and dotted with green islands.
Two disagreeable personages were added to our party. Early in the morning,
intelligence was brought that a celebrated robber, named _Morales_, captain
of a large band, had been seized along with one of his companions; and
permission was requested to take advantage of our large escort, in order
that they may be safely conducted to Uruapa, where they are to be shot,
being already condemned to death. The punishment of hanging is not in use
in Mexico.
The first thing therefore that we saw, on mounting our horses, was the two
robbers, chained together by the leg, guarded by five of our lancers, and
prepared to accompany us on foot. The companion of Morales was a young,
vulgar-looking ruffian, his face livid, and himself nearly naked; but the
robber-captain himself was equal to any of Salvator's brigands, in his wild
and striking figure and countenance. He wore a dark-coloured blanket, and a
black hat, the broad leaf of which was slouched over his face, which was
the colour of death, while his eyes seemed to belong to a tiger or other
beast of prey. I never saw such a picture of fierce misery. Strange to say,
this man began life as a shepherd; but how he was induced to abandon this
pastoral occupation, we did not hear. For years he has been the scourge of
the country, robbing to an unheard of extent, (so that whatever he may have
done with them, tens of thousands of dollars have passed through his
hands,) carrying off the farmers' daughters to the mountains, and at the
head of eighty ruffians, committing the most horrible disorders. His last
crime was murdering his wife in the mountains, the night before last, under
circumstances of barbarity too shocking to relate, and it is supposed,
assisted by the wretch now with him. After committing the crime, they ran
to hide themselves in an Indian village, as the Indians, probably from
fear, never betray the robbers. However, their horror of this man was so
great, that perfect _hate_ cast out their fear, and collecting together,
they seized the ruffians, bound them, and carried them to Pascuaro, where
they were instantly tried, and condemned to be shot; the sentence to be
executed at Uruapa.
The sight of these miserable wretches, and the idea of what their feelings
must be, occupied us, as they toiled along, each step bringing them nearer
to their place of execution; and we could not help thinking what wild
wishes must have sometimes throbbed within them, of breaking their bonds,
and dashing away from their guards--away through the dark woods, over
mountain and river, down that almost perpendicular precipice, over the
ravine, up that green and smiling hill, and into these gloomy pine woods,
in whose untrod recesses they would be secure from pursuit--and then their
despair when they felt the heavy, clanking chain on their bare feet, and
looked at the lances and guns that surrounded them, and knew that even if
they attempted to fly, could they be insane enough to try it, a dozen
bullets would stop their career for ever. Then horror and disgust at the
recollection of their savage crimes took the place of pity, and not even
-----'s suggestion, that the robber-chief might have killed his wife in a
transport of jealousy, could lessen our indignation at this last most
barbarous murder of a defenceless woman.
But these thoughts took away half the pleasure of this most beautiful
journey, through wild woods, where for leagues and leagues we meet nothing
but the fatal _cross_; while through these woods of larches, cedars, oaks,
and pines, are bright vistas of distant pasture-fields, and of lofty
mountains, covered with forests. Impossible to conceive a greater variety
of beautiful scenery--a greater _waste_ of beauty, if one may say so--for
not even an Indian hut was to be seen, nor did we meet a single passing
human being, nor a trace of cultivation. As we came out of the woods we
heard a gun fired amongst the hills, the first token of human life that had
greeted us since we left Pascuaro. This, Señor ----- told us, was the
signal-gun usually fired by the Indians on the approach of an armed troop,
warning their brethren to hide themselves. Here the Indians rarely speak
Spanish, as those do who live in the neighbourhood of cities. Their
language is chiefly the harmonious Tarrascan.
Towards the afternoon we came to a path which led us into a valley of the
most surpassing beauty, entirely carpeted with the loveliest blue, white,
pink, and scarlet wild flowers, and clothed with natural orchards of peach
and apricot trees in full bloom, the grass strewed with their rich
blossoms. Below ran a sparkling rivulet, its bright gushing waters leaping
over the stones and pebbles that shone in the sun like silver. Near this
are some huts called _Las Palomas_, and it was so charming a spot, that we
got off our horses, and halted for half-an-hour; and while they prepared
breakfast for us, a basket of provisions from Pascuaro having been brought
on by the provident care of Doña -----, we clambered out amongst the rocks
and luxuriant trees that dipped their leafy branches in the stream, and
pulled wild flowers that would grace any European garden.
Having breakfasted in one of the huts, upon fowl and tortillas, on which
memorable occasion two penknives were produced (and I still wonder why we
did not bring some; knives and forks with us, unless it be that we should
never have had them cleaned), we continued our journey: and this mention of
knives leads me to remark, that all common servants in Mexico, and all
common people, eat with their fingers! Those who are rather particular,
roll up two tortillas, and use them as a knife and fork, which, I can
assure you from experience, is a great deal better than nothing, when you
have learnt how to use them.
Our road after this, though even wilder and more picturesque, was very
fatiguing to the horses--up and down steep rocks, among forests of oak and
pine, through which we slowly wended our way; so that it was dark when we
descended a precipitous path, leading to a small Indian village, or rather
encampment, called _Curu_. It was now too late to think of reaching Uruapa,
or of venturing to climb by night the series of precipices called the
_Cuesta de Curu_, over which we should have had to pass. But such a place
as _Curu_ for Christians to pass the night in! A few miserable huts filled
with Indians, and not, so far as we could discern, even an empty shed,
where we might rest under cover. However, there was no remedy. The
_arriero_ had already unloaded his mules, and was endeavouring to find some
provender for them and the poor horses. It was quite dark, but there was a
delicious fragrance of orange-blossoms, and we groped our way up to the
trees, and pulled some branches by way of consolation. At length an old
wooden barn was discovered, and there the beds of the whole party were put
up! We even contrived to get some boiling water and to have some tea
made--an article of luxury which, as well as a teapot, we carry with us. We
sat down upon our trunks, and a piece of candle was procured and lighted,
and, after some difficulty, made to stand upright on the floor. The barn,
made of logs, let the air in on all sides, and the pigs thrust their snouts
in at every crevice, grunting harmoniously. Outside, in the midst of the
encampment, the soldiers lighted a large fire, and sat round it roasting
maize. The robbers sat amongst them, chained, with a soldier mounting guard
beside them. The fire, flashing on the livid face of Morales, who, crouched
in his blanket, looked like a tiger about to spring--the soldiers, some
warming their hands at the blaze, some lying rolled in their sarapes, and
others devouring their primitive supper--together with the Indian women
bringing them hot tortillas from the huts--the whole had a curious and
picturesque effect. As for us, we also rolled ourselves in our mangas, and
lay down in our barn, but passed a miserable night. The pigs grunted, the
mosquitoes sung, a cold air blew in from every corner, and, fortunately, we
were not until morning aware of the horrid fact, that a whole nest of
scorpions, with their tails twisted together, were reposing above our heads
in the log wall. Imagine the condition of the unfortunate slumberer on
whose devoted head they had descended _en masse_! In spite of the fragrant
orange-blossom, we set off early the next morning.
URUAPA.
On leaving the fascinating village of Curu, we began to ascend _La Cuesta_;
and travelled slowly four leagues of mountain-road, apparently
inaccessible; but the sure-footed horses, though stepping on loose and
nearly precipitous rocks, rarely stumbled. The mountain of Curu is
volcanic, a chaos of rent rocks, beetling precipices, and masses of lava
that have been disgorged from the burning crater. Yet from every crag and
crevice of the rock spring the most magnificent trees, twisted with
flowering parasites, shrubs of the brightest green, and pale delicate
flowers, whose gentle hues seem all out of place in this savage scene.
Beside the forest oak and the stern pine, the tree of the white blossoms,
the graceful _floripundio_, seems to seek for shelter and support. Creepers
that look like scarlet honeysuckles, and flowering vines of every variety
of colour, hang in bright garlands and festoons, intwining the boughs of
the trees; adorning, but not concealing the masses of bare rock and the
precipitous crag that frowns amidst all this luxury of vegetation. The
whole scene is "horribly beautiful."
As we wound through these picturesque paths, where only one can go at a
time, our train stretched out to an immense distance, and the scarlet
streamers and lances of the soldiers looked very picturesque, appearing and
then vanishing amongst the rocks and trees. At one part, looking back to
see the effect, I caught the eye of the robber Morales, glaring with such a
frightful expression, that, forgetful of his chains, I whipped up my horse
in the greatest consternation, over stones and rocks. He and the scene were
in perfect unison.
At length we came to the end of this extraordinary mountain-forest, and
after resting the tired horses for a little while, in a grove of pines and
yellow acacias, entered the most lovely little wood, a succession of
flowers and shrubs, and bright green grass, with vistas of fertile
cornfields bordered by fruit trees-a peaceful scene, on which the eye rests
with pleasure, after passing through these wild, volcanic regions.
On leaving the woods, the path skirts along by the side of these fields,
and leads to the valley where Uruapa, the gem of the Indian villages, lies
in tranquil beauty. It has indeed some tolerable streets and a few good
houses; but her boast is in the Indian cottages-all so clean and snug, and
tasteful, and buried in fruit trees.
We rode through shady lanes of trees, bending under the weight of oranges,
_chirimoyas, granaditas, platanos_, and every sort of delicious fruit. We
found that, through the kindness of Señor Ysasaga, the principal person
here, the curate's house had been prepared to receive us--an old
unfurnished house next the church, and at present unoccupied, its owner
being absent. We found the whole family extremely kind and agreeable; the
father a well-informed, pleasant old gentleman, the mother still beautiful,
though in bad health; and all the daughters pretty and unaffected. One is
married to a brother of Madame Yturbide's. They made many apologies for not
inviting us to their own house, which is under repair; but as it is but a
few steps off, we shall spend most of our time with them. It seems strange
to meet such people in this secluded spot! Yet, peaceful and solitary as it
appears, it has not escaped the rage of civil war, having been burnt down
four different times by insurgents and by Spaniards. Señor Ysasaga, who
belongs to Valladolid, has taken an active part in all these revolutions,
having been the personal friend and partisan of Hidalgo. His escapes and
adventures would fill a volume.
I could not help taking one last look of the robbers, as we entered this
beautiful place, where Morales at least is to be shot. It seemed to me as
if they had grown perfectly deathlike. The poor wretches must be tired
enough, having come on foot all the way from Pascuaro.
31st.--This place is so charming, we have determined to pitch our tent in
it for a few days. Our intention was to proceed twenty leagues farther, to
see the volcano of Jorullo; but as the road is described to us as being
entirely devoid of shade, and the heat almost insupportable--with various
other difficulties and drawbacks--we have been induced, though with great
regret, to abandon the undertaking, which it is as tantalizing to do, as it
is to reflect that yesterday we were but a short distance from a hill which
is but thirty leagues from the Pacific Ocean.
In 1813, M. de Humboldt and M. Bonpland, ascended to the crater of this
burning mountain, which was formed in September 1759. Its birth was
announced by earthquakes, which put to flight all the inhabitants of the
neighbouring villages; and three months after, a terrible eruption burst
forth, which filled all the inhabitants with astonishment and terror, and
which Humboldt considers one of the most extraordinary physical revolutions
that ever took place on the surface of the globe.
Flames issued from the earth for the space of more than a square league.
Masses of burning rock were thrown to an immense height, and through a
thick cloud of ashes, illuminated by the volcanic fire, the whitened crust
of the earth was gradually seen swelling up. The ashes even covered the
roofs of the houses at Querétaro, forty-eight leagues distance! and the
rivers of San Andrés and Cuitumba sank into the burning masses. The flames
were seen from Pascuaro; and from the hills of Agua-Zarca was beheld the
birth of this volcanic mountain, the burning offspring of an earthquake,
which bursting from the bosom of the earth, changed the whole face of the
country for a considerable distance round.
"And now, the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth."
Here the earth returned the salutation, and shook, though it was with
fearful mirth, at the birth of the young volcano.
In a letter written at the time of the event to the bishop of Michioacán by
the curate of the neighbouring village, he says, that the eruption finished
by destroying the hacienda of Jorullo, and killing the trees, which were
thrown down and buried in the sand and ashes vomited by the mountain. The
fields and roads were, he says, covered with sand, the crops destroyed, and
the flocks perishing for want of food, unable to drink the pestilential
water of the mountains. The rivulet that ran past his village was swelled
to a mighty river, that threatened to inundate it; and he adds, that the
houses, churches, and hospitals are ready to fall down from the weight of
the sand and the ashes--and that "the very people are so covered with the
sand, that they seem to have come out of some sepulchre." The great
eruptions of the volcano continued till the following year, but have
gradually become rarer, and at present have ceased.
Having now brought our journey to its furthest limits, I shall conclude
this letter.
LETTER THE FIFTIETH
Indian Dresses--Saints--Music--Union of Tropical and European
Vegetation--Old Customs--Falls of the Sararaqui--Silkworms--Indian
Painting--Beautiful Heroine--Leave Uruapa--Tziracuaratiro--Talkative
Indian--Alcalde's House--Pascuaro--Old Church--Mosaic Work--The Lake--The
Cave--Fried Fish--Rich Indians--Convent--Cuincho--Darkness--Morelia
--Alameda--Cathedral--Silver--Waxworks--College--Wonderful Fleas.
URIMPA, 31st.
The dress of the Indian women of Uruapa is pretty, and they are altogether
a much cleaner and better-looking race than we have yet seen. They wear
"_naguas_," a petticoat of black cotton with a narrow white and blue
stripe, made very full, and rather long; over this, a sort of short chemise
made of coarse white cotton, and embroidered in different coloured silks.
It is called the _sutunacua_--over all is a black reboso, striped with
white and blue, with a handsome silk fringe of the same colours. When they
are married, they add a white embroidered veil, and a remarkably pretty
coloured mantle the _huepilli_, which they seem to pronounce _guipil_. The
hair is divided, and falls down behind in two long plaits, fastened at the
top by a bow of ribbon and a flower. In this dress there is no alteration
from what they wore in former days; saving that the women of a higher class
wore a dress of finer cotton with more embroidery, and a loose garment over
all, resembling a priest's surplice, when the weather was cold. Among the
men, the introduction of trousers is Spanish--but they still wear the
_majtlatl_, a broad belt, with the ends tied before and behind, and the
_tilmatli_ or _tilma_ as they now call it, a sort of square short cloak,
the ends of which are tied across the breast, or over one shoulder. It is
on a coarse _tilma_ of this description that the image of the Virgin of
Guadalupe was found painted.
Yesterday, being the festival of San Andrés, the Indians were all in full
costume and procession, and we went into the old church to see them. They
were carrying the saint in very fine robes, the women bearing coloured
flags and lighted tapers, and the men playing on violins, flutes, and
drums. All had garlands of flowers to hang on the altars; and for these
lights and ornaments, and silk and tinsel robes, they save up all their
money. They were playing a pretty air, but I doubt its being original. It
was not melancholy and monotonous, like the generality of Indian music, but
had something wild and gay in it; it was probably Spanish. The organ was
played by an Indian. After mass we went upstairs to try it, and wondered
how, with such miserable means, he had produced anything like music. In the
patio, between the curate's house and the church, are some very brilliant
large scarlet flowers, which they call here "flor del pastor," the
shepherd's flower; a beautiful kind of euphorbia; and in other places,
"flor de noche buena," the flower of Christmas eve.
Last evening we walked out in the environs of this garden of Eden, by the
banks of the river _Marques_, amidst a most extraordinary union of tropical
and European vegetation; the hills covered with firs, and the plains with
sugar-cane. We walked amongst bananas, shaddock, chirimoyas, and orange
trees, and but a few yards higher up, bending over and almost touching
them, were groves of oak and pine. The river pursues its bright unwearied
course through this enchanting landscape, now falling in cascades, now
winding placidly at the foot of the silent hills and among the dark woods,
and in one part forming a most beautiful natural bath, by pouring its
waters into an enclosure of large, smooth, flat stones, overshadowed by
noble trees.
A number of the old Indian customs are still kept up here, modified by the
introduction of Christian doctrines, in their marriages, feasts, burials,
and superstitious practices. They also preserve the same simplicity in
their dress, united with the same vanity and love of show in their
ornaments, which always distinguished them. The poorest Indian woman still
wears a necklace of red coral, or a dozen rows of red beads, and their
dishes are still the _gicalli_, or, as they were called by the Spaniards,
_gicaras_, made of a species of gourd, or rather a fruit resembling it, and
growing on a low tree, which fruit they cut in two, each one furnishing two
dishes; the inside is scooped out, and a durable varnish given it by means
of a mineral earth, of different bright colours, generally red. On the
outside they paint flowers, and some of them are also gilded. They are
extremely pretty, very durable and ingenious. The beautiful colours which
they employ in painting these _gicaras_ are composed not only of various
mineral productions, but of the wood, leaves, and flowers of certain
plants, of whose properties they have no despicable knowledge. Their own
dresses, manufactured by themselves of cotton, are extremely pretty, and
many of them very fine.
December 1st.--We rode out early this morning, and passing through the
lanes bordered with fruit trees, and others covered with blossoms of
extraordinary beauty, of whose names I only know the _floripundio_,
ascended into the pine woods, fragrant and gay with wild thyme, and bright
flowers; the river falling in small cascades among the rocks. After riding
along these heights for about two leagues, we arrived at the edge of a
splendid valley of oaks. Here we were obliged to dismount, and to make our
way on foot down the longest, steepest, and most slippery of paths, winding
in rapid descent through the woods; with the prospect of being repaid for
our toil, by the sight of the celebrated Falls of the _Sararaqui_. After
having descended to the foot of the oak-covered mountain, we came to a
great enclosure of lofty rocks, prodigious natural bulwarks, through a
great cavern in which the river comes thundering and boiling into the
valley, forming the great cascade of the Sararaqui, which in the Tarrascan
language means _sieve_. It is a very fatiguing descent, but it is worth
while to make the whole journey from Mexico, to see anything so wildly
grand. The falls are from fifty to sixty feet high, and of great volume.
The rocks are covered with shrubs and flowers, with small jets of water
issuing from every crevice. One lovely flower, that looks as if it were
formed of small white and rose-coloured shells, springs out of the stones
near the water. There are rattlesnakes among the woods, and wild boars have
occasionally been seen. The Señoritas Y----, when children, two or three
years ago, wandering among these mountain-paths, saw an immense rattlesnake
coiled up, and tempted by its gaudy colours, were about to lift it, when it
suddenly wakened from its slumber, uncoiled itself, and swiftly glided up
the path before them, its rattles sounding all the way up amongst the
hills.
We sat beside the falls for a long while, looking at the boiling, hissing,
bubbling, foaming waters, rolling down headlong with such impetuous
velocity that one could hardly believe they form part of the same placid
stream, which flows so gently between its banks, when no obstacles oppose
it; and at all the little silvery threads of water, that formed mimic
cascades among the rocks; but at length we were obliged to recommence our
toilsome march up the slippery mountain. We were accompanied by several
officers--amongst others, by the commandant of Uruapa.
Señor ----- says that they are at present occupied here at the instigation
of a Frenchman, named _Genould_, in planting a large collection of mulberry
trees, (which prosper wonderfully well in this climate) for the propagation
of silkworms. But they have no facilities for transport, and at what market
could the silk be sold? There are a thousand improvements wanting here,
which would be more profitable than this speculation. They have sugar,
corn, maize, minerals, wood, cotton, water for machinery; every valuable
and important produce, all requiring their more immediate attention. We had
a pleasant ride home, and when we got back amongst the lanes leading to the
village, stopped every moment to admire and wonder at the rare and
beautiful blossoms on the trees; and pulled branches of flowers off them,
more delicate and lovely than the rarest exotics in an English hothouse.
This morning, the weather was damp and rainy, but in the afternoon we took
a long walk, and visited several Indian cottages, all clean, and the walls
hung with fresh mats, the floors covered with the same; and all with their
kitchen utensils of baked earth, neatly hung on the wall, from the largest
size in use, to little dishes and _jarritos_ in miniature, which are only
placed there for ornament. We also went to purchase _gicaras_, and to see
the operation of making and painting them, which is very curious. The
flowers are not painted, but inlaid. We were fortunate in procuring a good
supply of the prettiest, which cannot be procured anywhere else. We bought
a very pretty _sutunacua,_ and a black reboso. The women were not at all
anxious to sell their dresses, as they make them with great trouble, and
preserve them with great care.
We had a beautiful walk to the Magdalena, about a mile from the village.
Every day we discover new beauties in the environs. And one beauty we saw
on entering a small rancho, where they were painting gicaras at a table,
while a woman lay in the shaking fever in a bed adjoining, which was quite
consistent with the place. This was a lady, the proprietress of a good
estate some leagues off, who was seated on her own trunk, outside the door
of the rancho. She was a beautiful woman in her prime, the gentlemen said
_passée,_ and perhaps at eighteen she may have been more charming still;
but now she was a model for a Judith-or rather for a Joan of Arc, even
though sitting on her own luggage. She was very fair, with large black
eyes, long eyelashes, and a profusion of hair as black as jet. Her teeth
were literally dazzling--her lips like the reddest coral--her colour
glowing as the down upon a ripe peach. Her figure was tall and full, with
small, beautifully-formed hands, and fine arms. She rose as we came in, and
begged us to be seated on a bench near the door; and with the
unceremoniousness of travellers who meet in outlandish places, we entered
into conversation with her. She told us her name, and her motives for
travelling, and gave us an account of an adventure she had had with the
robbers, of which she was well fitted to be the heroine. It appears that
she was travelling with her two sons, lads of fifteen and sixteen, when
they arrived at this rancho to rest for the night; for by this time you
will understand that those who travel hereabouts must trust to chance or to
hospitality for a night's lodging. To their surprise, they found the
farmers gone, their dogs gone, and the house locked. They had no
alternative but to rest as they could, among their luggage and mules, in
the yard in front of the house. In the middle of the night they were
attacked by robbers. The boys instantly took their guns, and fired, but
without effect. Still, in the darkness, the robbers probably imagined that
there were more people and more arms, and when she, dragging a loaded
musket off one of the horses, prepared to join in the engagement, the
cowardly ruffians took flight--a good half dozen before a woman and two
boys. She was particularly indignant at the farmers, these "_malditos
rancheros_," as she called them, who she said had been bribed or frightened
into withdrawing their dogs and themselves.
We returned home after a long walk in the dark, and in the midst of all the
howling, yelping, snarling, barking dogs, which rushed out as we went by,
from every cottage in Uruapa.
After supper they sent for a clever Indian girl, who understands Spanish as
well as her native idiom, and who translated various Castilian words for us
into the original Tarrascan, which sounds very liquid and harmonious.
To-morrow we shall leave Uruapa and this hospitable family, whose kindness
and attention to us we never can forget. It seems incredible that we have
only known them a few days. We have, however, the hopes of seeing them
again as we pass through Valladolid, where they intend removing in a few
days.
PASCUARO, 4th December.
We left Uruapa yesterday morning at eleven o'clock, accompanied part of the
way by Señor Ysasaga and another gentleman, amongst whom was Madame
Yturbide's brother. We are now returning to Morelia, but avoided _Curu_ and
the rocks, both to save our animals, and for the sake of variety. We rode
through large tracks of land, all belonging to the Indians. The day was
agreeable and cloudy, and the road, as usual, led us through beautiful
scenery, monotonous in description, and full of variety in fact. Though
nearly uninhabited, and almost entirely uncultivated, it has pleased nature
to lavish so much beauty on this part of the country, that there is nothing
melancholy in its aspect; no feeling of dreariness in riding a whole day,
league after league, without seeing a trace of human life. These forest
paths always appear as if they must, in time, lead to some habitation; the
woods, the groves, the clumps of trees, seem as if they had been disposed,
or at least beautified by the hand of art. We cannot look on these smiling
and flowery valleys, and believe that such lovely scenes are always
untenanted--that there are no children occasionally picking up these
apricots--no village girls to pluck these bright, fragrant flowers. We
fancy that they are out in the fields, and will be there in the evening,
and that their hamlet is hid behind the slope of the next hill; and it is
only when we come to some Indian hut, or cluster of poor cabins in the
wilderness, that we are startled by the conviction that this enchanting
variety of hill and plain, wood and water, is for the most part unseen by
human eye, and untrod by human footsteps.
We had no further adventure during this day's journey, than buying bread
and cheese from sheer hunger, at a little wooden tavern by the road-side,
whose shelves were covered with glittering rows of bottles of brandy and
_mezcal_. At some of the Indian huts also we bought various branches of
_plátanos_, that most useful of fruits, and basis of the food of the poor
inhabitants of all the tropical climates. It has been said that the banana
is not indigenous in America, and that it was brought over by a friar to
Santo Domingo. If so, its adopted country agrees with it better than its
native land; but I believe there are many traditions which go to prove that
it did already exist in this hemisphere before the sixteenth century, and
that the Spaniards did no more than increase the number of the already
indigenous species. Its nutritive qualities, and the wonderful facility
with which it is propagated, render it at once the most useful of trees,
and the greatest possible incentive to indolence. In less than one year
after it is planted the fruit may be gathered and the proprietor has but to
cut away the old stems and leave a sucker, which will produce fruit three
months after. There are different sorts of bananas, and they are used in
different ways; fresh, dried, fried, etc. The dried plantain, a great
branch of trade in Michoacán, with its black shrivelled skin and flavour of
smoked fish or ham, is exceedingly liked by the natives. It is, of all
Mexican articles of food, my peculiar aversion.
About four o'clock we arrived at the small village of Tziracuaratiro, a
collection of Indian cottages, with little gardens, surrounded by orange
and all manner of fruit trees. As we had still one or two hours of
daylight, and this was our next halting-place, we wandered forth on foot to
explore the environs, and found a beautiful shady spot, a grassy knoll,
sheltered by the surrounding woods, where we sat down to rest and to inhale
the balmy air, fragrant with orange-blossoms. We were amused by a
sly-looking Indian, of whom C---n asked some questions, and who was
exceedingly talkative, giving us an account of his whole _ménage_, and
especially praising beyond measure his own exemplary conduct to his wife,
from which I infer that he beats her, as indeed all Indians consider it
their particular privilege to do; and an Indian woman who complained to a
padre of her husband's neglect, mentioned, as the crowning proof of his
utter abandonment of her, that he had not given her a beating for a whole
fortnight. Some one asked him if he allowed his wife to govern him. "Oh!
no," said he, "that would be the mule leading the arriero!"
There was nothing to be seen in the village, of which it hardly deserves
the name, but a good-looking old church, which two old women were sweeping
out; but they told us they rarely had mass there, as the padre lived a long
way off. The alcalde permitted us and our escort to occupy his house,
consisting of three empty rooms with mud floors; and about seven the next
morning we were again on horseback, and again _en route_ for Pascuaro; a
pretty ride of eleven or twelve leagues. We breakfasted at the village of
_Ajuna_, in a clean hut where they gave us quantities of tortillas and
chile, baked by some very handsome _tortilleras_. A number of women were
carrying about a virgin all covered with flowers, to the sound of a little
bell.
It was about four o'clock when we arrived at the hills near Pascuaro. Here
we dismounted from our horses, and remained till it was nearly dusk, laying
on the grass, and gazing on the lake, as the shadows of evening stole
slowly over its silver waters. Little by little the green islands became
indistinct; a gray vapour concealed the opposite shores; and like a light
breath spread gradually over the mirrored surface of the lake. Then we
remounted our horses, and rode down into Pascuaro, where we found the
Señora H---a as before, ready to receive us, and where, our mules being
disabled, we proposed remaining one or two days.
5th.--We have been spending a quiet day in Pascuaro, and went to mass in
the old church, which is handsome and rich in gilding. At the door is
printed in large letters--"For the love of God, all good Christians are
requested not to spit in this holy place." If we might judge from the
observation of one morning, I should say that the better classes in
Pascuaro are fairer and have more colour than is general in Mexico; and if
this is so, it may be owing partly to the climate being cooler and damper,
and partly to their taking more exercise (there being no carriages here),
whereas in Mexico no family of any importance can avoid having one.
We were very anxious to see some specimens of that mosaic-work which all
ancient writers upon Mexico have celebrated, and which was nowhere brought
to such perfection as in Pascuaro. It was made with the most beautiful and
delicate feathers, chiefly of the _picaflores_, the humming-birds, which
they called _huitzitailin_. But we are told that it is now upwards of
twenty years since the last artist in this branch lived in Pascuaro; and
though it is imitated by the nuns, the art is no longer in the state of
perfection to which it was brought in the days of Cortes. We are told that
several persons were employed in each painting, and that it was a work
requiring extraordinary patience and nicety, in the blending of the
colours, and in the arrangement of the feathers. The sketch of the figure
was first made, and the proportions being measured, each artist took charge
of one particular part of the figure or of the drapery. When each had
finished his share, all the different parts were reunited, to form the
picture. The feathers were first taken up with some soft substance with the
utmost care, and fastened with a glutinous matter upon a piece of stuff;
then, the different parts being reunited, were placed on a plate of copper,
and gently polished, till the surface became quite equal, when they
appeared like the most beautiful paintings, or, according to these writers,
more beautiful from the splendour and liveliness of the colours, the bright
golden, and blue, and crimson tints, than the paintings which they
imitated. Many were sent to Spain, and to different museums both in Europe
and Mexico; but the art is now nearly lost, nor does it belong to the
present utilitarian age. Our forefathers had more leisure than we, and
probably we have more than our descendants will have, who, for aught we
know, may, by extra high-pressure, be able to
"Put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes."
We, however, saw some few specimens of saints and angels, very defective in
the sketch, but beautiful in the colouring, and quite sufficient to prove
to us that there was no exaggeration in these accounts.
7th.--We rode yesterday to the shores of the lake, where we embarked in a
long canoe, formed of the hollow trunk of a tree, and rowed by Indians, a
peculiarly ugly race, with Tartar-looking faces. The lake was very placid,
clear as one vast mirror, and covered with thousands of wild ducks, white
egrets, cranes, and herons--all those waterfowl who seem to whiten their
plumage by constant dipping in pools and marshes and lakes. On the opposite
shore, to the right, lay the city of Tzinzunzan; and on a beautiful island
in the midst of the lake the village of _Janicho_, entirely peopled by
Indians, who mingle little with the dwellers on the mainland, and have
preserved their originality more than any we have yet seen. We were
accompanied by the prefect of Pascuaro, whom the Indians fear and hate in
equal ratio, and who did seem a sort of Indian _Mr. Bumble_; and, after a
long and pleasant row, we landed at the island, where we were received by
the village alcalde, a half-caste Indian, who sported a pair of bright blue
merino pantaloons! I suppose to distinguish himself from his blanketed
brethren. The island is entirely surrounded by a natural screen of willow
and ash-trees, and the village consists of a few scattered houses, with
small cultivated patches of ground, the alcalde's house, and an old church.
We walked, or rather climbed, all over the island, which is hilly and
rocky, and found several great stones entirely covered with the ancient
carving. Moved by curiosity, we entered various caverns where idols have
been found, and amongst others one large cave, which we had no sooner
groped our way into than I nearly fell down suffocated by the horrible and
most pestilential atmosphere. It appears that it is the sleeping-place of
all the bats in the island; and heaven forbid that I should ever again
enter a bat's bedchamber! I groped my way out again as fast as possible,
heedless of idols and all other antiquities, seized a _cigarito_ from the
hand of the astonished prefect, who was wisely smoking at the entrance,
lighted it, and inhaled the smoke, which seemed more fragrant than violets,
after that stifling and most unearthly odour.
The chief food of these islanders, besides the gourds and other vegetables
which they cultivate, is the white fish, for which the lake is celebrated;
and while we were exploring the island, the Indians set off in their canoes
to catch some for us. These were fried at the alcalde's and we made a
breakfast upon them which would have rejoiced the heart of an epicure.
We then went to visit the church; and, though the cottages are poor, the
church is, as usual, handsome. Amongst other curiosities there is a Virgin,
entirely covered with Indian embroidery. The organist's place is hereditary
in an Indian family, descending from father to son. The long-haired Indian
who played it for us has such a gentle expression and beardless face, that
he looks like a very young woman. Some of the Indians here are very rich,
and bury their money; and one, called Agustin Campos, who has beautified
the church, as we read on an inscription carved on a stone outside, has
thirty thousand dollars, is much respected, and has the addition of _Don_
to his name, yet wears a coarse blanket like his fellow-men. We staid some
hours on the island, and went into some of the huts, where the women were
baking tortillas, one Indian custom, at least, which has descended to these
days without variation. They first cook the grain in water with a little
lime, and when it is soft peel off the skin; then grind it on a large block
of stone, the _metate_, or, as the Indians (who know best) call it, the
_metatl_. For the purpose of grinding it, they use a sort of stone roller,
with which it is crushed, and rolled into a bowl placed below the stone.
They then take some of this paste, and clap it between their hands till
they form it into light round cakes, which are afterwards toasted on a
smooth plate, called the _comalli_ (_comal_ they call it in Mexico), and
which ought to be eaten as hot as possible.
On our return, we had the variety of a slight storm, which ruffled the
placid surface of the lake, and caused the rowers to exert all their
strength to bring the canoe to port before it should become more violent.
This morning we walked all through Pascuaro, which can boast of many good
houses, a square and portales, and ended by going to visit the convent of
Santa Catarina. We saw some of the nuns, who wear white dresses, and,
instead of veils, the black Indian reboso. They were common-looking women,
and not very amiable in their manners; but we did not go further than the
outside entry. On our return we met a remarkable baby in arms, wearing an
enormous white satin turban, with a large plume of white feathers on one
side, balanced on the other by huge bunches of yellow ribbons and pink
roses. It also wore two robes, a short and a long one, both trimmed all
round with large plaitings of yellow satin ribbon. It was evidently very
much admired as it passed along. To-morrow, our mules having recovered, we
set off for Valladolid.
VALLADOLID, 9th.
About half-past seven we left Pascuaro, which, considering that we had a
long day's journey before us, was scarce early enough. We regretted very
much taking leave of the Señora H---a, who has been so kind to us, and whom
we can certainly never hope to see again. I observe that in these long
days' journeys we generally set off in silence, and sometimes ride on for
hours without exchanging a word. Towards the middle of the day we grow more
talkative, and again towards evening we relapse into quiet. I suppose it is
that in the morning we are sleepy, and towards evening begin to grow
tired--feeling sociable about nine o'clock, a.m., and not able to talk for
a longer period than eight or ten hours. It was about four in the afternoon
when we reached Cuincho, where we were welcomed by the damsels of the
baths, whose father is now still more of an invalid than before. It is a
lonely life that these poor girls lead here, nor should I think their
position a very secure one. Their poverty, however, is a safeguard to a
certain extent, and there are few robbers in this country in the style of
Morales. We were tempted to stop here and take a bath, in consequence of
which it was dark when we set off for Morelia. The horses, unable to see,
took enormous leaps over every little streamlet and ditch, so that we
seemed to be riding a steeple-chase in the dark. Our gowns caught upon the
thorny bushes, and our journey might have been traced by the tatters we
left behind us. At length we rode the wrong way, up a stony hill, which led
us to a wretched little village of about thirty huts, each having ten dogs
on an average, according to the laudable custom of the Indians. Out they
all rushed simultaneously, yelping like three hundred demons, biting the
horses' feet, and springing round us. Between this canine concert, the
kicking of the horses, the roar of a waterfall close beside us, the
shouting of people telling us to come back, and the pitch darkness, I
thought we should all have gone distracted. We did, however, make our way
out from amongst the dogs, redescended the stony hill, the horses leaping
over various streamlets that crossed their path, turned into the right
road, and entered the gates of Morelia without further adventure, between
nine and ten o'clock.
MORELIA, 11th. We have passed the last few days very agreeably in this
beautiful city, seeing everything worthy of notice, and greatly admiring
the wide and airy streets, the fine houses, the handsome public buildings,
but especially the cathedral, the college, and the churches. It has also a
fine square, with broad piazzas occupying three of its sides, while the
cathedral bounds it to the east. There is a crowded market in the plaza,
and a fine display of fruit and vegetables. The population is said to be a
little upwards of fifteen thousand, but one would suppose it to be much
greater. Living and house-rent is so cheap here, that a family who could
barely exist upon their means in Mexico, may enjoy every luxury in
Valladolid. The climate is delightful, and there is something extremely
cheerful in the aspect of the city, in which it differs greatly from
Toluca. We received visits from various _Morelians_, amongst others from
Don Cayetano Gomez, the proprietor of San Bartolo.
We went one evening to the alameda, a broad, straight walk, paved with flat
stones, shaded by fine trees, under which are stone benches, and bounded by
a low stone wall. Several ladies were sitting there, whom we joined, and
amongst others, a remarkably pretty _Poblana_, married into the Gomez
family. The alameda is crossed by a fine aqueduct of solid masonry, with
light and elegant arches. We drove to the _paséo_, a broad, shady road,
where we met but few carriages; and the same evening we went out on foot to
enjoy the music of a very good military band, which plays occasionally for
the amusement of the citizens. It is not to be supposed that, when Mexico
can boast of so little society, there should be much in a provincial town;
besides, this city has the pretension of being divided into _cliques_, and
there are "first people," and "second-rate people," and "families in our
set," and so on; so that some of the ladies being musicians, one set will
get up a concert, another a rival concert, and there not being a sufficient
musical society to fill two concerts, both fall to the ground. There is a
neat little theatre, but at present no company. Some of the houses are as
handsome as any in Mexico, but there is no city which has fallen off so
much since the Independence as Morelia, according to the accounts given us
by the most respectable persons.
We had a visit from the bishop, Señor Portugal, one of the most
distinguished men here, or in fact in the whole republic of Mexico, a man
of great learning, gentle and amiable in his manners, and in his life a
model of virtue and holiness. He was in the cabinet when Santa Anna was
president, concerning which circumstance an amusing story was told us, for
the correctness of which I do not vouch, but the narrator, a respectable
citizen here, certainly believed it. Señor Portugal had gone, by
appointment, to see the president on some important business, and they had
but just begun their consultation, when Santa Anna rose and left the room.
The Minister waited--the president did not return. The time passed on, and
still the Minister continued expecting him, until at length he inquired of
an aide-de-camp in waiting, if he could inform him how soon the president
might be expected back. "I hardly know," said the officer, "for his
excellency has gone to visit _Cola de plata_" (silver tail). "And who may
_Cola de plata_ be?" said the Minister. "A favourite cock of his
excellency's, wounded this morning in a fight which he won, and to whose
care he is now personally attending!" The bishop soon after sent in his
resignation.
Accompanied by several of our friends, including one of the canons of the
cathedral, we visited that splendid building the second day of our arrival.
It is still wonderfully rich, notwithstanding that silver to the amount of
thirty-two thousand marks has been taken from it during the civil wars. The
high altar is dazzling with gold and silver; the railing which leads from
it to the choir is of pure silver, with pillars of the same metal; the two
pulpits, with their stairs, are also covered with silver; and the general
ornaments, though numerous and rich, are disposed with good taste, are kept
in order, and have nothing tawdry or loaded in their general effect. The
choir itself is extremely beautiful; so also is the carved screen before
the organ, the doors of the first being of solid silver, and those of the
other of richly-carved wood. There is also an immense silver font, and
superb lamps of silver. We particularly admired some fine paintings,
chiefly by Cabrera, and especially a Madonna and child, in which there is
that most divine expression in the face of the Virgin, the blending of
maternal love with awe for the divinity of the child. Four of these
paintings, it is said, were sent here by a Spanish king, as far back as
Philip II. These four are colossal in size, and are finely painted, but
little cared for or appreciated, and placed in a bad light.
We were shown two saints, sent from Rome, loaded with false jewels, but
carefully preserved in their respective shrines. All the holy vessels and
priests' dresses and jewels were taken out for our inspection. The
sacramental _custodía_ cost thirty-two thousand dollars, and the richest of
the dresses eight thousand. There is a lamb made of one pearl, the fleece
and head of silver; the pearl of great size and value.
We toiled up through winding staircases to the belfry; and it required the
beautiful and extensive landscape spread out before us, to compensate us
for this most fatiguing ascent. The bells are of copper, and very sonorous.
The _canonigo_ pointed out to us all the different sites which had been the
scenes of bloody battles during the revolutionary war. The facilities for
obtaining provisions, and the mountainous character of the country, are
amongst the causes that have rendered this province the theatre of civil
war. The padre afterwards took us into a large apartment, a sort of office,
hung round with the portraits of all the bishops of Michoacán; one bearing
so striking a resemblance to our friend, Don Francisco Tagle, that we were
not surprised to find that it was in fact the portrait of one of his
family, who had occupied the episcopal see of Michoacán; and below it were
the Tagle arms, referring to some traditionary exploit of their ancestors.
They represent a knight killing a serpent; and the motto is--"Tagle que la
serpiente mato y con la Princesa caso" (Tagle who killed the serpent, and
married the Princess).
The same evening, we visited a lady who possesses a most singular and
curious collection of works in wax; and more extraordinary still, they are
all her own workmanship. Every fruit and every vegetable production is
represented by her with a fidelity, which makes it impossible to
distinguish between her imitations and the works of nature. Plates with
bread, radishes, and fish; dishes of fowls, and chile, and eggs; baskets
full of the most delicious-looking fruit; lettuces, beans, carrots,
tomatoes, etc.; all are copied with the most extraordinary exactness. But
her figures show much greater talent. There are groups for which an amateur
might offer any price, could she be prevailed upon to offer these
masterpieces for sale. There is a Poblana peasant on horseback before a
ranchero, looking back at him with the most coquettish expression; her
dress perfection, from the straw hat that half shades her features, to the
beautiful little ankle and foot in the white satin shoe, the short
embroidered petticoat, and the reboso thrown over one shoulder; a handsome
Indian, selling pulque and brandy in her little shop, with every variety of
liquor temptingly displayed in rows of shining bottles, to her customers;
the grouping and colouring perfect, and the whole interior arrangement of
the shop, imitated with the most perfect exactness. There is also a horrid
representation, frightfully correct, of a dead body in a state of
corruption, which it makes one sick to look at, and which it is
inconceivable that any one can have had pleasure in executing. In short,
there is scarcely anything in nature upon which her talent has not
exercised itself.
Yesterday we visited the _Seminario_, or college, a fine spacious old
building, kept in good repair. The rector conducted us over the whole
establishment. There is a small well chosen library, containing all the
most classic works in Spanish, German, French, and English; and a larger
library, containing Greek and Latin authors, theological works, etc., a
large hall, with chemical and other scientific apparatus, and a small
chapel where there is a beautiful piece of sculpture in wood: the _San
Pedro_, by a young man, a native of Valladolid, so exquisitely wrought,
that one cannot but regret that such a genius should be buried here, should
not at least have the advantage of some years' study in Italy, where he
might become a second Canova.
One must visit these distant cities, and see these great establishments, to
be fully aware of all that the Spaniards bestowed upon their colonies, and
also to be convinced of the regret for former times which is felt amongst
the most distinguished men of the republic; in fact, by all who are old
enough to compare what has been with what is.
I ought not to omit, in talking of the natural productions of Valladolid,
to mention that it is famous for _fleas_. We had been alarmed by the
miraculous stories related to us of these vivacious animals, and were
rejoiced to find ourselves in a house, from which, by dint of extreme care,
they are banished. But in the inns and inferior houses they are said to be
a perfect pestilence, sometimes literally walking away with a piece of
matting upon the floor, and covering the walls in myriads. The nuns, it is
said, are or were in the habit of harnessing them to little carriages, and
of showing them off by other ingenious devices.
We rode out in the evening to meet our friends from Uruapa, who were
expected to arrive yesterday; I upon a very formidable and handsome
cavalry-horse, rather above his work, which some expected to run away, and
others to throw me off, and which might have done both, but being a noble
creature did neither. We did not meet our friends, who, having been delayed
on the road, only arrived this evening. We have therefore decided to remain
here till to-morrow afternoon, when we shall continue our journey homewards
by San Bartolo.
LETTER THE FIFTY-FIRST
San Bartolo--Mass--Market--Rancheros--San Andrés--Insanity--Rancho--House
of Don Carlos Heimburger--Wild Scenery--German Songs--Las Millas--Leave-
taking--Storm--Rainbow--El Pilar--La Gabia--Toluca--News--Copper
_Pronunciamiento_----Return to Mexico--General Moran--Funeral Obsequies--
New Theatre--_Cock's Mass_--Santa Clara--Santa Fe Prisoners--New Year.
ANGANGUEO, 14th.
After taking leave of all our hospitable friends in Morelia, we set off in
the afternoon, and had a delightful ride to San Bartolo. Fortunately the
following day (Sunday) was that of the Virgin of Guadalupe, one of the
greatest festivals here; so that we had an opportunity of seeing all the
people from the different villages, who arrived in the courtyard by
daybreak, and held a market in front of the hacienda. Various were the
articles for sale, and picturesque the dresses of the sellers. From cakes,
chile, atole, and ground-nuts, to rebosos and bead rosaries, nothing was
omitted. In one part of the market the sturdy rancheros were drinking
pulque and devouring hot cakes; in another, little boys were bargaining for
nuts and bananas; countrywomen were offering low prices for smart rebosos;
an Indian woman was recommending a comb, with every term of endearment, to
a young country-girl, who seemed perfectly ignorant of its use, assuring
her customer that it was an instrument for unravelling the hair, and making
it beautiful and shining, and enforcing her argument by combing through
some of the girl's tangled locks.
Before breakfast we went to mass in the large chapel of the hacienda. We
and the family went to the choir; and the body of the chapel was filled
with rancheros and their wives. It is impossible to see anywhere a finer
race of men than these rancheros--tall, strong, and well made, with their
embroidered shirts, coarse sarapes, and dark blue pantaloons embroidered in
gold. After mass, the marketing recommenced, and the rebosos had a brisk
sale. A number were bought by the men for their wives, or _novias_, at
home; which reminds me of a story of -----'s of a poor Indian woman in
their village, who desired her husband to buy a _petticoat_ for her in
Mexico, where he was going to sell his vegetables. She particularly
impressed upon him that she wished it to be the _colour of the sky_, which
at sunrise, when he was setting off, was of a flaming red. He returned in
the evening, bringing, to her great indignation, a petticoat of a dusky
gray, which happened to be the colour of the sky when he made his purchase.
In the evening we rode through the fields, the servants and the young
master of the house amusing themselves as they went, by the chasing and
_colear_ of the bulls. They have one small, ugly, yellow-coloured bull,
which they call tame, and which the _mozos_ ride familiarly. They persuaded
me to try this novel species of riding, a man holding the animal's head
with a rope; but I thought that it tossed its horns in a most uncomfortable
and alarming manner, and very soon slipped off. We stopped during our ride,
at a house where the proprietors make a small fortune by the produce of
their numerous beehives; and walked along the banks of a fine clear river,
winding through beautiful and verdant groves.
The next morning by six o'clock we were again on horseback, and took leave
of San Bartolo. We rode by _Yndaparapeo_, a considerable village, with
sloping shingle roofs; and about ten reached Querendaro, breakfasted with
Señor Pimentel, and then continued our journey towards San Andrés, where we
were to pass the night. We had a horse with us which occasionally fell down
on the road, shivering all over, groaning, and apparently dying; but which
had twice recovered from these fits. But this day, having stopped beside a
running stream to water our horses, the unfortunate beast fell again, and
when we had remounted, and were riding forward, a servant galloped after
us, to tell us that the horse was dead at last; so we left him to his
lonely grave by the river's side. Great, therefore, was our amazement,
when, some time after, we perceived him trotting along the road at a great
rate, in pursuit of his party, apparently quite recovered.
We passed the night at San Andrés, a poor _venta_, but clean, consisting of
three empty rooms, a spirit-shop, and a kitchen. Our escort slept in the
piazza, rolled in their sarapes. Our beds were stuck up in the empty rooms,
and we got some supper upon fowl and tortillas. We were interested by the
melancholy air of a poor woman, who sat aloof on the piazza, uncared for,
and noticing no one. We spoke to her, and found that she was insane,
wandering from village to village, and subsisting on charity. She seemed
gentle and harmless, but the very picture of misery, and quite alone in the
world, having lost all her family. But "God tempers the wind to the shorn
lamb." We saw her again in the morning before we set off, and saw her get
some breakfast in the kitchen. The poor people of the _venta_ seemed kind
to her. They who dwell in comfortable houses, surrounded by troops of
friends, and who repine at their lot, would do well to compare it with that
of such a being.
This morning we left San Andrés, and have had a pleasant ride, in spite of
a hard-trotting horse, which fell to my lot. Impossible to conceive more
beautiful scenery than that which we passed through to-day. Some of the
hills have a singular formation, each large hill appearing composed of a
variety of smaller ones, of a pyramidal shape. We rode through Taximaroa
without stopping, and breakfasted at a rancho, where the whole family were
exceedingly handsome. The ranchero himself was a model for a fine-looking
farmer, hospitable and well-bred; knowing his place, yet without any
servility. The rancherita, who was engaged in the kitchen, was so handsome,
that we made every possible excuse for going to look at her.
About four o'clock we once more crossed the hills and came down upon the
plains by which we left Angangueo; and passed over a river as red as blood,
that looked as if hostile armies had been engaged in fierce combat by its
banks, and their bodies rolled in the tide. This ensanguined hue is,
however, caused, not by warlike steel, but by peaceful copper; not peaceful
in its effects, by the way, at this moment, for the whole country, more or
less, is in commotion on the subject of copper coin.
You must know, that some few years ago, the value of copper was suddenly
reduced by law to one half, causing a great loss to all, but much distress
to the poor. The intrinsic value of the copper, however, bore so little
relation to the value given to it, that it was a very productive business
to counterfeit it, of which many unprincipled individuals availed
themselves to such an extent, that it had almost become an openly exercised
branch of industry all through the republic. When Santa Anna became
provisional president, he ordered that all the copper coin, whose currency
was now reduced to six or eight per cent. below par, should be given in to
certain deposits which he named, promising to repay it in genuine coin of
real value. But this naturally caused a still greater depreciation,
bringing it down as low as sixty per cent.; and still greater discontent,
the people having little faith in the promise, and, in fact, the payment
could not be made at the appointed time, because there were not sufficient
coining machines; and as the few new cents that did circulate, were said
not to contain their real value, the distress became greater than ever. The
merchants refused to receive copper, and there was no silver or small
change. In the mean time, in many of the large haciendas, the proprietors
have given checks to the workmen, with which they have been able to buy
what they required at the shops, which are attached to these haciendas.
The amount of the copper in circulation cannot be calculated, for it is
almost all counterfeit. It is supposed, however, to be at least from eight
to nine millions of dollars. You may easily imagine the fortunes that will
be made (and as they say are being made) by those of the government party,
who are buying up for sixty, what will be paid them by favour of the
government at the rate of a hundred.
We rode up the hills that lead to the house of Don Carlos Heimbürger, and
were again hospitably received by him and his German friends. Nothing can
have a finer effect than the view from the piazza of his house in the
evening, looking down upon the valley. The piazza itself has a screen of
green creepers, which have the effect of a curtain of a theatre half drawn
up. Behind the house rises a dark frowning hill, in the form of a pyramid.
In front is the deep ravine, with the huts of the workmen, and while the
moon throws her quivering beams over the landscape, the metallic fires of
livid blue light up the valley. There is something wild and diabolic in the
scene; and as the wind howls round the valley with a dismal sound, it seems
as if one were looking on at some unholy, magical incantation; so that it
is pleasant to return after a while to the comfortable rooms and cheerful
fires within, which have so homely and domestic an air. We hope to spend
to-morrow here, and the following day to go on to Toluca, from whence I
shall continue my letter.
TOLUCA, 19th.
The next day we visited the works, which are like all others, excepting
that here they do not use quicksilver to extract the silver from the lead,
but do so by the process of oxidation, by the means of a reverberatory
furnace. The people generally have an unhealthy appearance, as nearly all
have who are engaged in these works--the air being loaded with particles of
metal. After visiting the mills and the sheds where the process of
oxidation is carried on, and admiring the metallic riches of these
mountains, we left the hot and poisoned atmosphere, and walked up the
mountains clothed with a hardy vegetation--with every noble tree and
flowering shrub--and pursued our course till we came to a fine waterfall,
which plunges from a great height over the gigantic rocks.
The scenery here is rude and wild. The great rocks are covered with hardy
trees--the pine, the cedar, the oak, and the flowering laurel. The river,
after dashing down in this noble cascade, runs brawling amongst the
forest-clothed hills, till it reaches the plains, and flows on placidly. We
spent an agreeable day, wandering amongst the mountains; and when we
returned sat on the piazza, to watch the moon as her broad disk rose over
the valley, and the fierce blue lights that made her mild fires grow pale.
All Germans are musical, and the gentlemen in this house did not belie the
national reputation. After dinner, a bright fire blazing, doors and windows
shutting out the cold air that whistled along the hills, they struck up in
chorus some of the finest national airs, particularly the Hymn to the
Rhine--so that it seemed an illusion that we were in this wild, mining
district, inhabited only by the poorest Indians; and we were transported
thousands of miles off, across the broad Atlantic, even to the land where
"The castled crag of Drachenfels
Frowns o'er the broad and winding Rhine."
We also amused ourselves by examining Madame B----'s Album; and if those
milk-and-water volumes, belonging to young ladies, where young gentlemen
write prettinesses, be called Albums, some other name should be found for a
book where some of the most distinguished artists in Germany have left
proofs of their talent, and where there is not one page which does not
contain something striking and original. Nothing pleased me so much as the
fanciful illustration of the beautiful legend of _Lorelei_, which Madame
B---- read to us with great feeling. We became too comfortable here for
hardy equestrian travellers, and had we staid much longer should have begun
to complain of tough fowls, beds in barns, and other inconveniences, which
we had hitherto laughed at; but we tore ourselves away from our Capua, and
on the morning of the sixteenth set off for _El Pilar_.
Don Carlos Heimburger, M. and Madame B----, etc., accompanied us for seven
leagues, all through the woods. We had a delightful ride, the day was cool
and cloudy, and we were besides, constantly shaded by the noble forest
trees. But we had not reached Las Millas before the sky was overcast, the
clouds became black and gloomy, and at length broke out in rain. We
galloped fast, for the day, besides being rainy, was cold; and in the
afternoon reached Las Millas. Here we breakfasted in the little portico,
which we preferred to the interior of the cottage, chiefly upon tortillas
and boiled _tejocotes_, a fruit which grows in great abundance, and
resembles a small apple. Here again were two Indian girls of admirable
beauty, _dans leur genre_, baking tortillas. We were now obliged to part
from our kind German friends, and to ride across the plains. But had not
gone more than halfway, when the clouds burst forth in torrents, pouring
their fury on our devoted heads, so that in five minutes we were all
drenched as if we had fallen into a river. We took shelter for a little
while under a solitary spreading tree, but the storm increased in violence,
and it was advisable to gallop forwards, in order to arrive at El Pilar
before it became dark. Suddenly, the most beautiful rainbow I ever beheld
smiled out from amongst the watery clouds. It formed a complete and
well-defined arch of the most brilliant colours in the heavens, reflected
by another on the plains, which, uniting with it, blended its fainter hues
with the light of the heavenly bow.
We arrived at El Pilar tired and drenched, and greatly in need of the
hospitable reception which was given to us by its mistress.
The following morning we set off early for _La Gabia_, feeling some regret
that our journey was drawing to a close. Some of us, who rode in front,
found ourselves surrounded by several suspicious-looking, well-armed men on
horseback, who, under pretence of asking some questions, rode very close to
us, and then stopped and faced round on their horses--but there was no
danger, our escort being at a short distance, and when they observed its
approach, they bestowed no further attention upon us. Don Xavier
Hechavarria had returned to Mexico, but we were cordially welcomed by his
brother-in-law, Don Manuel Gorospe, and so kindly pressed to remain some
days, that nothing but our limited time would have induced us to set off
next morning for Toluca. Here we arrived last night, having performed our
journey by a different and more agreeable road than that of the "three
hundred barrancas." We entered Toluca by moonlight, and found that
respectable city all in commotion on the subject of copper; presenting a
very different aspect from the quiet and conventual air of repose which
distinguished it little more than a month ago. Yesterday Colonel Y----, who
has accompanied us during all this journey, left us, to return to
Michoacán, having thus brought us back in safety to the point from which we
started.
We are spending a very tiresome day in the inn, which, however, is a more
decent place, and belongs to a better line of coaches than the other. We
have been enlivened by several visits, amongst others, from the commandant,
and from an aide-de-camp of General Valencia's. For the first time since we
left it, we have news from Mexico. Santa Anna, _dit-on_, is now Dictator or
King, in all but the name; affecting more than royal pomp, yet endeavouring
by his affability to render himself popular. Above all, he has made known
his determination of not seizing an inch of ground belonging to the clergy;
which seizure of church property was the favourite idea of Paredes and the
_progresistas_. This resolution he has not printed, probably in order not
to disgust that party, but his personal declaration to the archbishop and
the padres of the Profesa, and in a letter to the bishop of Puebla, is,
that he will not only leave their property untouched, but that, were he out
of power, he would draw his sword in their defence--for that, good or bad,
he is a sincere Catholic. This has done much to re-establish him in the
good opinion of the clergy, and it is said that in every convent in Mexico,
monks and nuns are now wearying Heaven with prayers in his behalf. In
short, the conquerors and the conquered, those of the Progress, and those
of the Dictatorship, seem all, barring a few noble exceptions, actuated by
one motive; personal interest.
Count C---a is restored to the command of his battalion _del Comercio_,
which has been re-established (it having deserted to the federalists in the
last revolution). It appears that the president's favourite plan is to have
thirty thousand men under arms; and there is little doubt that he will
bring this about. Sixteen new generals have been created; and General
Tornel is made a General of Division. The Señora V---a has given a ball, at
which she and other ladies appeared with trains, rehearsing, as it would
seem, before the court drawing-rooms. I was told, and by good authority,
that the present sent by Santa Anna to the lady of the commander-in-chief
on her birth-day, was a box containing three general's belts, with a
request that she would bestow them on those whom she considered most
deserving of them; and that the lady herself buckled the sashes on her
favoured knights, in her own boudoir. Thus was valour rewarded by the hand
of beauty; and
"Thus should desert in arms be crowned."
Meanwhile the master of the house presents himself with a disturbed and
gloomy countenance, and doubts much whether we can have any dinner to-day,
because no one will sell anything, either for copper or silver; moreover
hints darkly that they expect a _copper pronuniciamiento_ to-morrow; and
observes that the shops are shut up.
Since we could get no dinner, we went out to take a walk; and methinks the
Tolucanos have a fierce and agitated aspect. We attempted to go to mass
this morning, but there was a congregation of léperos, who filled not only
the church, but the whole enclosure and the street beyond, so that we could
not even approach the church door. Unfortunately we cannot get a diligence
until the 21st.
They have brought us at last, I will not say dinner--but something to eat.
20th.--This morning, the firing of squibs, the beating of drums, the
shouting and confusion on the streets, announced that the ragamuffin
population of Toluca had turned out; and going to the balcony, I very
nearly received the salutation of
"A sky-Rocket in my eye."
Orders have been given out by the alcalde, that copper shall be received in
payment by the merchants, some of whom have declared they will only receive
silver. A large mob has collected before the alcalde's door, with shouts of
"Viva la plata! Muerta al cobre!" (Long live silver! Death to copper!)
--apostrophizing these useful metals, as if they were two generals.
The merchants have issued a declaration, that during three days only, they
will sell their goods for copper (of course at an immense advantage to
themselves). The Indians and the poorer classes are now rushing to the
shops, and buying goods, receiving in return for their copper about half
its value. If Santa Anna keeps his word, the _patriotism_ of the merchants
will be rewarded.
C---n has just had a visit from one of the merchants, who wishes his
conduct to be represented in a proper light in Mexico.
MEXICO, 22nd.
With much joy we stepped into the diligence early yesterday morning,
accompanied by the commandant of Toluca, and retraced our road to Mexico;
for though Toluca is a fine city, with clean, airy houses, wide,
well-paved streets, and picturesque in its situation, there is something
sad and deserted in its appearance, an air of stagnation that weighs upon
the spirits; and the specimens we have seen of its lower orders are not
inviting. We had rather an agreeable journey, as the day was cool, and we
had the diligence to ourselves. We breakfasted again at Cuajimalpa, took
leave of the interesting _itzcuin tepotzotli_, still hanging from its
hook--and again ascended the eminence from which Mexico suddenly bursts
upon the view, and after a short absence, with all the charms of novelty.
Before we arrived at Tacubaya, we were met by a carriage containing Señor
A---- and his lady, who insisted on our leaving the diligence; and carried
us off to their own house, where we now are. On the second of January we
expect to take our final departure from the "great city of the lake."
December 28th.--Another old year about to chime in! Another Christmas past
away! But during these last few days it has been all in vain to attempt
finishing my letter, between making arrangements for our journey, receiving
and returning visits, going to the opera, and seeing and revisiting all
that we had left unseen or wished to see again before leaving this. People
seem determined that we shall regret them, and load us with kindness and
attentions, the more flattering, that now at least they are entirely
personal, and cannot proceed from any interested motive. We have reason to
think them both steady and sincere in their friendship.
General Moran has died, universally regretted. He has been embalmed
according to the system of _Ganal_, and his funeral was performed with
extraordinary magnificence, the troops out, the foreign Ministers and the
cabinet following on foot, the former in full uniform, and a great train of
carriages reaching along the whole Calle San Francisco, from the church to
the square. The body, dressed in a general's uniform, was carried upon a
splendid bier, and was so perfectly embalmed, that he seemed not dead, nor
even asleep, but lying in an attitude of repose. The expense of this
operation will probably prevent its ever becoming very common; and
certainly there are but few cases where it can be advisable to adopt it. An
_embalmed dynasty_ might be a curious sight. To trace the features of a
royal line, from Charlemagne to Charles X.--from Alfred to William IV.,
would be a strange study. Mary of Scotland and Elizabeth, lying in the
repose of death, yet looking as they lived and hated centuries back, might
be a curious piece of antiquity. A Hernan Cortes--a Washington--a Columbus
--a Napoleon; men, whose memory for good or for evil, will survive time and
change--it would be a strange and wondrous thing, if we could look on their
features as they were in life. But it is to be trusted that this method of
successfully wrestling with the earth for what it claims as its due, will
not generally prevail; or, at the end of a few centuries, the embalmed
population would scarce leave room for their living and breathing
descendants: nor is it an agreeable idea that one might, in a lapse of
ages, grace the study of an antiquary, or be preserved amongst the
curiosities of a museum. I would stuff birds and beasts, and preserve them
in cabinets, but not the remains of immortal man. _Dust unto dust_; and the
eye of faith turned from the perishing remains to the spirit which has gone
to the God who gave it.
The _función_ performed in the general's honour, within the church, was as
magnificent as ecclesiastic and military splendour could render it. We were
in the gallery above. The bier, placed on a lofty scaffolding, covered with
black velvet and lighted with wax tapers, was placed near the altar. The
music was solemn and impressive. Every respect has been shown to the
deceased general, by Santa Anna's orders. Excepting the _corps
diplomatique_ and the officers, all within the church were in deep
mourning....
The chief difficulty we have in arranging our affairs here, consists in the
perfect impossibility of persuading any tradesman to keep his word. They
name the day, the hour, the minute, at which they are to be with you, or at
which certain goods are to be sent to you. They are affronted if you doubt
their punctuality, and the probability is, you never hear of them or their
goods again. If they are not exact for their own interest, they will not be
so for yours; and although we have had frequent proofs of this
carelessness, we are particularly annoyed by it now that we are within a
few days of our departure. During our residence here we have had little to
do with shops and shopkeepers, having found it more convenient and
economical to send to Paris or even to the United States for all articles
of dress. Now, though everything must still be comparatively dear, the _bad
times_ have caused a great reduction in prices; and dear as all goods are,
they would be still dearer, were it not for the quantity that is smuggled
into the republic. There are an amazing number of French shopkeepers;
French tailors, hatters, shoemakers, apothecaries, etc.; but especially
French modistes and perruquiers. The charges of the former are exorbitant,
the latter are little employed except by gentlemen. There are also many
Spanish shops, some German, and a few English; but I think the French
preponderate.
We went some time ago to see the _Monte Pio_, which is under the auspices
of Señor Tagle; and it is melancholy enough to see the profusion of fine
diamonds and pearls that are displayed in these large halls. After a
certain time has elapsed without their being redeemed, the pledged articles
are sold; gold and silver, in whatever form, by the weight, but jewels for
their intrinsic value. There is a sale once a week. We were shown privately
the jewels of the Virgen de los Remedios; which are very superb.
There is a small theatre lately established, called the Theatre of _New
Mexico_, where there is a Spanish company, the same whom we saw two years
ago in Vera Cruz. They are drawing away various persons from the principal
theatre. Their object seems to be to make people laugh, and they succeed.
On Christmas-eve we went there to see the _gracioso_ (harlequin) in a
woman's dress, dance _Tripili_, an old Spanish dance, accompanied with
singing. They introduced some appropriate lines concerning the late
troubles about the _copper_, which were received with great applause. Just
as they were concluding the Tripili, a young gentleman in the pit, I do not
know whether Mexican or Spanish, rose, and waving his hand after the manner
of a man about to make an address, and requesting attention, kindly
favoured the audience with some verses of his own, which were received with
great good-nature; the actors bowing to him, and the pit applauding him. It
seemed to me a curious piece of philanthropy on his part.
At midnight we went to the church of Santa Clara, to attend what is called
the _Misa del Gallo_, the Cock's Mass; which is private,--only respectable
persons being admitted by a private entrance; for midnight mass in Mexico
takes place with shut doors, as all nightly reunions are dreaded. Santa
Clara being attached to the convent of that name, we remained after mass to
see the white-robed sisters receive the sacrament from the hands of a
priest, by the small side-door that opens from the convent to the church.
The church was lighted, but the convent was in darkness; and looking in
through the grating, we could only distinguish the outline of their
kneeling figures, enveloped in their white drapery and black veils. I do
not think there were a dozen persons in the church besides ourselves.
A good deal of interest has been excited here lately about the Texian
prisoners taken in the Santa Fe expedition, the first detachment of whom
have arrived, after a march of nearly two thousand miles, and are now
lodged in the convent of Santiago, about two miles from the centre of the
city. As their situation is represented to be very miserable, and as it is
said that they have been stripped of their hats, shoes, and coats; some of
the Mexican families, and amongst others, that of Don Francisco Tagle,
regardless of political enmity, have subscribed to send them a supply of
linen and other necessary articles, which they carried out there
themselves. Being invited to accompany them to Santiago, I did so; and we
found the common men occupying the courtyard, and the officers the large
hall of the convent. So far they have been treated as prisoners of war
generally are; but it is said to be the intention of Santa Anna to have
them put in chains, and sent out to sweep the streets, with the miserable
prisoners of the Acordada. Colonel C----, who was presented to me, seemed
to treat the whole affair very lightly, as the fortune of war; and had
evidently no idea that any such fate was in store for them; seeming rather
amused by the dress of the monks, whom he now saw for the first time. In
the Mexicans generally, there seems very little if any vindictive feeling
against them; on the contrary, a good deal of interest in their favour,
mingled with some curiosity to see them. The common men appeared more
impatient and more out of spirits than the officers. We shall probably know
nothing more of their fate, before leaving Mexico.
We had some intention of paying a last visit to the Museum before we went;
and Don José María Bustamante, a friend of ours, professor of botany, and
considered a man of learning, was prepared to receive us; but we were
prevented from going. I must, however, find time to answer your question as
to the population. The Mexican republic is supposed to contain upwards of
seven millions of inhabitants; the capital, two hundred thousand. Their
number cannot be exactly fixed, as there has been no general census for
some time; a labour in which a commission, with Count Cortina at its head,
has been employed for some time past, and the result of which will be
published shortly. All other questions must be replied to _de vive voix_.
I must now conclude my last letter written from this place; for we are
surrounded by visitors, day and night; and, to say the truth, feel that it
is only the prospect of returning to our family, which can counterbalance
the unfeigned regret we feel at leaving our friends in Mexico. My next
letter will most probably be dated from Vera Cruz.
LETTER THE FIFTY-SECOND
Last Day in Mexico--Theatre--Santa Anna--French
Minister's--Parting--Diligence--Last Look of
Mexico--Fatigue--Robbers--Escort--Second Impressions--Baths at
Jalapa--Vera Cruz--Some Account of San Juan de Ulua--Siege of 1825--Siege
of 1838--General Bustamante--Theatre--Of the North Winds.
VERA CRUZ, 6th January, 1842.
Having concluded our arrangements for leaving Mexico on the 2nd of January,
we determined, as the diligence started long before daybreak, not to
attempt taking any rest that night. We went out early, and took leave of
the Dowager Marquésa de Vivanco, who was confined to the house by illness,
and whose kindness to us has been unremitting ever since our arrival. It is
a sad thing to take leave of a person of her age, and in her delicate state
of health, whom there is scarcely a possibility of our ever seeing again.
Some days before we parted also from one of our oldest friends here, the
Countess C---a. The last day, besides the Spaniards who have been our
constant friends and visitors ever since we came here, we had melancholy
visits of adieu from Señor Gomez Padraza and his lady, from the families of
Echavarri, of Fagoaga, Cortina, Escandon, Casaflores, and many whose names
are unknown to you. Amongst others was the Güera Rodriguez. About eight
o'clock, accompanied even to the door of the carriage by a number of ladies
who were with us to the last, and amongst these were P---a C---a and L---z
E---n, we broke short all these sad partings, and, with the A---s and the
family of the French Minister, set off for the theatre of New Mexico. I can
imagine your surprise at such a _finale,_ but it was the only means left us
of finishing a painful scene, and of beguiling the weary hours yet
remaining before the diligence started, for it was in vain to think of rest
or sleep that night. The theatre was very crowded, the play an amusing
piece of _diablerie_, called the "_Pata de Cabra_" (the goat's foot), badly
got up, of course, as its effect depends upon scenery and machinery. I
believe it was very entertaining, but I cannot say we felt inclined to
enter into the spirit of it. The family of General V---a were there, and,
this being the day of a great diplomatic dinner given by Santa Anna,
various officers and diplomates came in late and in full dress. I was
informed by one of the company, that six colonels stood the whole time of
dinner behind his Excellency's chair! I wonder what French officer would do
as much for Louis Philippe! _Vogue la galere!_ From the theatre, which
concluded about one, we drove to the house of the ----- Minister, where we
spent a very grave half-hour, and then returned home with a very splendid
_brioche_, of generous proportions, which Madame la Baronne de ----- had
kindly prepared for our journey.
Arrived at the A----'s, we sat down to supper, and never was there a sadder
meal than this, when for the last time we sat at the hospitable board of
these our earliest and latest Mexican friends. We were thankful when it was
all over and we had taken leave, and when, accompanied to the inn by Señor
A---d and other gentlemen, we found ourselves fairly lodged in the
diligence, on a dark and rather cold morning, sad, sleepy, and shivering.
All Mexico was asleep when we drove out of the gates. The very houses
seemed sunk in slumber. So terminated our last _Mexican New Year's Day_.
When we reached the eminence, from which is the last view of the valley,
the first dawn of day was just breaking over the distant city; the white
summits of the volcanoes were still enveloped in mist, and the lake was
veiled by low clouds of vapour, that rose slowly from its surface. And this
was our last glimpse of Mexico!
The diligence is now on a new and most fatiguing plan of travelling night
and day, after leaving Puebla; so that, starting from Mexico at four
o'clock on the morning of the 2nd of January, it arrives in Vera Cruz early
on the morning of the 5th, saving a few hours, and nearly killing the
travellers. The government had granted us escorts for the whole journey,
now more than ever necessary. It was five in the afternoon when we reached
Puebla, and we set off again by dawn the next morning.
We had just left the gates, and our escort, which had rode forward, was
concealed by some rising ground, when, by the faint light, we perceived
some half-dozen mounted cavaliers making stealthily up to us across the
fields. Their approach was first discerned by a Spanish lady who was with
us, and who was travelling with strings of pearl and valuable diamonds
concealed about her person, which made her peculiarly sharp-sighted on the
occasion. "_Ladrones!_" said she, and every one repeated "_Ladrones!_" in
different intonations. They rode across the fields, came up pretty close to
the diligence, and reconnoitred us. I was too sleepy to be frightened, and
reconnoitred them in return with only one eye open. The coachman whipped up
his horses, the escort came in sight, and the gentlemen struck into the
fields again. The whole passed in a minute or two. The soldiers of the
escort came riding back to the diligence; and the captain, galloping up to
the window, gave himself great credit for having "frightened away the
robbers."
We arrived at Perote when it was nearly dusk, supped, and started again at
eleven o'clock at night. We passed a horrible night in the diligence, and
were thankful when daybreak showed us the beautiful environs of Jalapa. It
is singular that on a second impression, returning by this road, the houses
appear handsomer than they did before, and nature less beautiful. I
conclude that this is to be accounted for simply from the circumstance of
the eye having become accustomed both to the works of nature and of man,
which characterize this country. The houses, which at first appeared
gloomy, large, and comfortless, habit has reconciled us to, and experience
has taught us that they are precisely suited to this climate of perpetual
spring. The landscape, with its eternal flowers and verdure, no longer
astonishes and bewilders us, as when we first arrived from a country where,
at that season, all nature lies buried in snow. Besides, in our last
journey through Michoacán, we have passed among scenes even more striking
and beautiful than these. Then the dresses, which at first appeared so
romantic; the high, Moorish-looking-saddle, the gold-embroidered manga, the
large hat, shading the swarthy faces of the men, the coloured petticoat and
reboso, and long black hair of the women, though still picturesque, have no
longer the charm of novelty, and do not attract our attention. The winter
also has been unusually severe for Mexico, and some slight frosts have
caused the flowers of this natural garden to fade; and, besides all this,
we were tired and sleepy and jolted, and knew that we had but an hour or
two to remain, and had another day and night of purgatory in prospect....
Still, as we passed along the shady lanes, amongst the dark chirimoyas, the
green-leaved bananas, and all the variety of beautiful trees, intwined with
their graceful creepers, we were forced to confess that winter has little
power over these fertile regions, and that in spite of the leveller,
_Habit_, such a landscape can never be passed through with indifference.
Arrived at Jalapa, we refreshed ourselves with the luxury of a bath, having
to pass through half the city before we reached the bathing establishment,
from which there is the most beautiful view of wood, water, and mountain
that it is possible to behold. The baths are the property of a lady who has
a cotton factory and a good house in the city, and fortunate she is in
possessing a sufficient portion of worldly goods; since, as she informed
us, she is the mother of twenty children! She herself, in appearance, was
little more than thirty. We then returned to breakfast, and shortly after
left Jalapa.
I will not inflict upon you a second description of the same journey; of
Plan del Rio, with its clear river and little inn--of Puerto del Rey, with
its solid majestic bridge thrown over the deep ravine, through which rushes
the impetuous river Antigua--or of how we were jolted over the road leading
to Paso de Oveja, etc. Suffice it to say, that we passed a night, which
between suffocating heat, horrible jolting, and extreme fatigue, was nearly
intolerable. Stopping to change horses at Santa Fe, we saw, by the light of
the torches which they brought to the door, that we were once more among
bamboo-huts and palm trees. Towards morning we heard the welcome sound of
the waves, giving us joyful token that our journey was drawing to a close;
yet when we entered Vera Cruz and got out of the diligence, we felt like
prisoners who have been so long confined in a dungeon, they are incapable
of enjoying their liberty, we were so thoroughly worn out and exhausted.
How different from the agreeable kind of fatigue which we used to feel
after a long day's journey on horseback!
Breakfast, and a fresh toilet had, however, their due influence. We were in
an hotel, and had hardly breakfasted when our friend, Don Dionisio Velasco,
with some other gentlemen, arrived, and kindly reproaching us for
preferring an inn to his house, carried us and our luggage off to his fine
airy dwelling, where we now are, and where a good night's rest has made us
forget all our fatigues.
As we must remain here for one or two days, we shall have time to see a
little more of the city; and already, upon a second survey, sad and
dilapidated as it now appears, I can more readily imagine what it must have
been in former days, before it was visited by the scourge of civil war. The
experience of two Mexican revolutions, makes it more easy for us to
conceive the extent to which this unfortunate city must have suffered in
the struggle made by the Spaniards, to preserve the castle, their last
bulwark in this hemisphere. San Juan de Ulua, in spite of the miserable
condition in which it now is, remains a lasting memorial of the great works
which, almost immediately after their arrival on these shores, were
undertaken by the Spanish conquerors.
In 1682, sixty-one years after they had set foot on Aztec soil, they began
this fortress, in order to confirm their power. The centre of the space
which it occupies is a small island, where the Spaniard, Juan de Grijalva
arrived, one year before Cortes reached the Mexican continent. Having found
the remains of two human victims there, they asked the natives why they
sacrificed men to their idols, and receiving for answer that it was by
orders of the kings of _Acolhua_, the Spaniards gave the island the name of
Ulua, by a natural corruption of that word.
It is pretended that the fortress cost four millions; and though this
immense sum is no doubt an exaggeration, the expense must have been very
great, when we consider that its foundations are below the water, and that
for nearly three centuries it has resisted all the force of the stormy
waves that continually beat against it. Many improvements and additions are
gradually made to the castle; and, in the time of the viceroys, a
first-rate engineer paid it an annual visit, to ascertain its condition,
and to consider its best mode of defence, in case of an attack. In 1806,
however, Vera Cruz was sacked by the English corsair, Nicholas Agramont,
incited by one Lorencillo, who had been condemned to death for murder in
Vera Cruz, and had escaped to Jamaica. Seven millions of dollars were
carried off, besides three hundred persons of both sexes, whom the pirates
abandoned on the Island of Sacrificios, when they re-embarked.
In 1771 the viceroy, then the Marquis de la Croix, remitted a million and a
half of dollars to the governor, in order that he might put the castle in a
state of defence; and the strong bulwarks which still remain, attest the
labour that has been bestowed upon it. The outer polygon, which looks
towards Vera Cruz, is three hundred yards in extent; to the north it is
defended by another of two hundred yards; whilst a low battery is situated
as a rear-guard in the bastion of Santiago; and on the opposite front is
the battery of San Miguel. The whole fortress is composed of a stone which
abounds in the neighbouring island, a species of coral, excellent for
building, _piedra mucara_.
In 1822 no stronghold of Spanish power remained but this castle, whose
garrison was frequently reinforced by troops from Havana. Vera Cruz itself
was then inhabited by wealthy and influential Spaniards. Santa Anna then
commanded in the province, under the orders of Echavarri, the captain-
general, and with instructions from Yturbide, relative to the taking of the
castle. The commandant was the Spanish General Don José Davila. It was not,
however, till the following year, when Lemaur succeeded Davila in the
command of the citadel, that hostilities were begun by bombarding Vera
Cruz.
Men, women, and children then abandoned the city. The merchants went to
Alvarado, twelve leagues off, whilst those who were driven from their
houses by a shower of balls, sought a miserable asylum amongst the burning
plains and miserable huts in the environs. Some made their way to Jalapa,
thirty leagues off; others to Cordova and Orizava, equally distant. With
some interruptions, hostilities lasted two years, during which there was
nearly a constant firing from the city to the castle, and from the castle
to the city.
The object of General Barragan, now commander-in-chief, was to cut off all
communication between the garrison of the castle and the coasts, and to
reduce them to live solely upon salt provisions, fatal in this warm and
unhealthy country. In 1824 the garrison, diminished to a mere handful, was
replaced by five hundred men from the peninsula; and very soon these
soldiers, shut up on the barren rocks, surrounded by water, and exposed to
the dangers of the climate, without provisions and without assistance, were
reduced to the most miserable condition. The next year, Don José Copinger
succeeded Lemaur, and continued hostilities with fresh vigour.
This brave general, with his valiant troops, surrounded by the sick and the
dying, provisions growing scarcer every day, and those that remained
corrupt and unfit to eat, yet resolved to do his duty, and hold out to the
last. No assistance arrived from Spain. A Mexican fleet was stationed off
the Island of Sacrificios and other points, to attack any squadron that
might come from thence; while the north winds blew with violence, keeping
back all ships that might approach the coasts. "Gods and men," says a
furious republican (Zavala), "the Spaniards had to contend with; having
against them, hunger, sickness, the fire and balls of the enemies, a
furious sea covered with reefs, a burning atmosphere, and above all, being
totally ignorant as to whether they should receive any assistance."
The Minister of the treasury, Esteva, then came from Mexico, and proposed a
capitulation; and the Spanish general agreed that should no assistance
arrive within a certain time, he would give up the fortress; evacuating it
with his whole garrison, and with the suitable honours. The Spanish
succours arrived a few days before the term was expired, but the commander
of the squadron, seeing the superiority in point of numbers of the Mexican
fleet, judged it prudent to return to Havana to augment his forces. But it
was too late. On the fifteenth of September, the brave General Copinger,
with the few troops that remained to him, marched out of the fortress,
terminating the final struggle against the progress of revolution, but
upholding to the last the character for constancy and valour which
distinguished the sons of ancient Spain.
Of its last assault by the French squadron in 1838, there is no need to say
anything. Every newspaper, as you will remember, gave an account of the
capitulation of what the French gazettes called "San Juan de Ulua, the St.
Jean d'Acre of the new world, which our mariners saluted as the Queen of
the Seas, _vierge sans tache_," etc.
6th.--We have just had a visit from General Bustamante, who, with his
aide-de-camp, a son of General Calderon (formerly governor of Jalapa),
intends shortly to sail in the Jason for Havana. We have also had a visit
from the commander of that vessel, Captain Puente, who succeeded our friend
Captain E---a; and who has been kindly endeavouring to make arrangements
for taking us also, not having before been aware of our intentions of
leaving Vera Cruz at this period. But although we should have much pleasure
in returning by the vessel that brought us, we fear that, without putting
the officers to great inconvenience, it will be impossible for them to
accommodate so many, for we know the _carte du pays_.
It is therefore probable that we shall go by the English packet, which
sails on the eighth, but unfortunately goes round by Tampico, not very
agreeable at this season.
We went to mass this morning, which was said to be particularly crowded in
consequence of the general desire to catch a glimpse of the
ex-president....
I find, personally, one important change in taste if not in opinion. Vera
Cruz cookery, which two years ago I thought detestable, now appears to me
delicious! What excellent fish! and what incomparable _frijoles!_ Well,
this is a trifle; but after all, in trifles as in matters of moment, how
necessary for a traveller to compare his judgments at different periods,
and to correct them! First impressions are of great importance, if given
only as such; but if laid down as decided opinions, how apt they are to be
erroneous! It is like judging of individuals by their physiognomy and
manners, without having had time to study their character. We all do so
more or less, but how frequently we find ourselves deceived!
7th.--We went to the theatre last evening. In the boxes there were only a
lady and gentleman, besides our party. The pit, however, was full; but
there are no good actors at present. We have been walking about to-day,
notwithstanding the heat, purchasing some necessary articles from French
modistes and French perfumers, most of whom, having got over the fever, are
now very well satisfied to remain here and make their fortune. We
afterwards walked down to the Mole, and saw the pleasantest sight that has
met our eyes since we left Mexico--the sea covered with ships. It was
refreshing to look again on the dark blue waves, after so long an absence
from them. Commodore -----, of Mexico, who was present, pointed out the
Jason, and the Tyrian, Captain Griffin, lying out in the harbour, and
strongly recommended us to go in the latter, as did the English consul,
with proper patriotism. We have requested him to take our berths, when he
goes to visit the captain on board this evening....
No sooner has this been done beyond recall, than we find that comfortable
arrangements have been made for taking us in the Jason, which goes direct
to Havana. It is now too late, so we can only regret our precipitation.
There is another beautiful Spanish vessel just arrived, the _Liberal_,
Captain Rubalcava, who, with Captain Puente, of the Jason, has been to see
us this evening. If the wind holds fair, the packet sails to-morrow; but
the experienced predict a norther.
The symptoms of this terrible wind, which blows in the Mexican Gulf, from
the autumnal to the vernal equinox, are known not only to the sailors, but
to all those who have lived some time in this city. The variation in the
barometer is the surest sign. A land breeze from the north-west first blows
gently, then varies to the north-east, then changes to the south. The heat
is then suffocating and the summits of all the great mountains appear
cloudless and distinct against the deep blue sky, while round their base
flows a veil of semi-transparent vapour.
Suddenly the tempest bursts forth; and all are instantaneously relieved-all
but the poor mariners! The air becomes refreshed-clouds of dust come
sweeping along the streets, driving away, as it were, the pestilential
atmosphere. Then there is no fever in Vera Cruz.
All communication is cut off between the castle and the city, and between
the city and all foreign shipping. Sometimes the norther lasts three or
four days, sometimes even twelve. If it turns to a southerly breeze, the
tempest generally returns; if it changes to the east or north-east, the
breeze generally lasts three or four days, and the ships in the port take
advantage of the intervals to escape, and gain the high seas. These gales
are particularly dreaded off the coasts of Tampico.
8th.--We sail in a few hours, the _norte_ not having made its appearance,
so that we expect to get clear of the coast before it begins. The Jason
sails in a day or two, unless prevented by the gale. We only knew this
morning that it was necessary to provide mattresses and sheets, etc., for
our berths on board the packet. Fortunately, all these articles are found
ready made in this seaport town. We have just received a packet of letters,
particularly acceptable as bringing us news of home before our departure. I
have also received two agreeable _compagnons de voyage_ in the shape of
books; Stephen's "Central America," and Washington Irving's "Life of
Margaret Davison," opportunely sent me by Mr. Prescott....
Our next letters will be written either at sea, or from Tampico.
LETTER THE FIFTY-THIRD
Sail in the Tyrian--Norther off Tampico--The Bar--The River Panuco--The
Pilot--The Shore--Alligator--"_Paso de Doña Cecilia_"--Tampico--Spanish
Consul's House--Society--Navigation--Banks of the Panuco--Extraordinary
Inoculation--The "_Glorieta_"--Leave Tampico--Furious Norther--Voyage--
Arrival at Havana.
ON BOARD H. B. M. PACKET TYRIAN, 15th.
On the 8th, having taken leave of the family of our friend, Señor Velasco,
and of General Bustamante, whom we hope to see again in Havana, we went out
in a little boat, accompanied as far as the packet by several gentlemen,
and in a short time were standing on deck, looking our last at Vera Cruz
and its sandbanks, and sopilotes, and frowning castle, as the shores
gradually receded from our view, while the Tyrian was making the best of
her time to get clear of reefs and rocks, before the arrival of the
norther. We regretted to find, that instead of being one of the new line of
English packets, the Tyrian was the last of the old line; small, ancient,
and incommodious, and destined to be paid off on her return to England.
Captain Griffin, the commander, who looks like an excellent, gentlemanly
man, is in wretched health, and in a state of acute suffering. There were
no passengers but ourselves, and a young Mexican, guiltless of any
acquaintance with salt water, up to this date.
The very next morning out burst the norther, and with loud howling swept
over the ocean, which rose and tossed to meet the coming storm. Surely no
wind ever had a voice so wildly mournful. How the good ship rolled, and
groaned, and creaked, and strained her old timber joints! What rocking,
thumping, falling, banging of heads at the low entry of the cabin! Water
falling into berths, people rolling out of them. What fierce music at
night, as the wind, like a funeral dirge, swept over the ocean, the rain
falling in torrents, and the sky covered with one dark, lugubrious pall!
And how lonely our ship seemed on the world of waters!
But the next day, the storm waxed fiercer still, and the night was worse
than the day. The waves that dashed over the deck made their way into the
cabin. At one time, we thought the ship had struck, and even the captain
believed that a mast had fallen. It was only a huge wave that broke over
the deck with a sound like thunder, drowning the wretched hens and ducks,
who little thought, when they left their comfortable English poultry-yard,
they were destined to be drowned off Tampico--and drenching the men. Our
little lamp, after swinging to and fro for some time went out, and left the
cabin in darkness. Impossible to sleep of course, and for the _first time_
at sea, I confess to having felt afraid. Each time that the ship rolled
upon her side on the slope of a huge billow, it seemed impossible that she
could ever right again, or that she could avoid receiving the whole
contents of the next great watery mountain that came roaring on.
On the morning of the eleventh there was still no abatement of the storm.
All was dark and dreary. The norther continued to blow with unrelenting
fierceness, and the ship to rock and roll amongst a tumult of foaming
billows. The nights in this pitch darkness seemed interminable. The berths
being constantly filled with water, we dragged our mattresses on the floor,
and lay there wishing for the dawn. But the dawn brought no relief. The
wind howled on like a fierce wild beast roaring for its prey. I had made my
way every day upstairs, and by dint of holding on, and with a chair tied
with strong ropes, had contrived to sit on deck. But this day I retreated
under cover behind the helmsman, when, lo! a large wave burst over the
ship, found me out in my retreat, and nearly throwing down several stout
sailors in its way, gave me the most complete salt-water bath I have had
since I left New York. All that night we were tossed about in storm and
darkness.
On the thirteenth the wailing of the norther grew fainter, and towards
night died away. On the fourteenth it veered round, and the coast of
Tamaulipis appeared in sight faintly.
This morning opened with a slight norther; nevertheless they have hung out
the packet flag and cast anchor, in expectation of the pilot boat.
Meanwhile, all is at a stand-still, _morally_ speaking, for we are rolling
so that it is scarce possible to write comprehensibly. We see the
sad-looking shores of Tampico, long, low, and sandy, though to the south
stretching out into gloomy, faintly-seen woods. We can distinguish the
distant yellow sand and the white surf breaking furiously over the bar. The
day is gloomy but not cold. A slight rain accompanies the light north wind.
Sea-gulls are flying in circles round the ship and skimming the surface of
the waves. The master looks impatient and anxious, and prognosticates
another week of northers. Vessels, they say, have been detained here thirty
days, and some even three months! No notice is taken of our signal--a sign
that the bar is impassable.
16th.--The ship has rolled and pitched all night, and to-day we remain in
the same predicament.
TAMPICO, 18th.
Yesterday morning the wind was much lighter, and a pilot-boat came out
early, in which the captain set off with his despatches; and we being
assured that we might cross the ominous bar in safety, hired a boat for
forty dollars, with ten sailors and a pilot, too glad at the prospect of
touching the solid earth even for one day. Having got into this boat, and
being rowed out to the bar, we found that there the sea was very high, even
though the day was calm. The numerous wrecks that have taken place here
have given this bar a decidedly bad reputation. Great precaution is
necessary in crossing it, constant sounding, and calm weather. It is formed
by a line of sandhills under the water, whose northern point crosses that
to the southward, and across which there is a passage, whose position
varies with the shifting sands, so that the pilots are chiefly guided by
the surf.
Perched upon a sandbank was a regiment of enormous white pelicans of
thoughtful and sage-like physiognomy, ranged in a row, as if to watch how
we passed the bar. Over many a drowning crew they have screamed their wild
sea dirge, and flapped their great white wings. But we crossed in safety,
and in a few minutes more the sea and the bar were behind us, and we were
rowing up the wide and placid river Panuco--an agreeable change. We stopped
at the house of the _commandant_, a large, tall individual, who marched out
and addressed us in English, and proved to be a native of the United
States.
We stopped at a collection of huts, to let our sailors breakfast, where
there is the house of a celebrated character, Don Leonardo Mata, a colossal
old pilot, but who was from home at present. We amused ourselves by
wandering along the beach of the river and making a collection of beautiful
shells, which we left at the old pilot's house, to be kept there till our
return. A sort of garden, attached to the house, is appropriately
ornamented with the figure-head and anchor from a wreck. We got into our
boat again and glided along the shores, on one side low and marshy, with
great trees lying in the water; on the other also low, but thickly wooded
and with valuable timber, such as logwood and ebony, together with cedars,
India-rubber trees, limes, lemons, etc. On the bare trunk of a great tree,
half-buried in the water, sat an amiable-looking alligator, its jaws
distended in a sweet, unconscious grin, as if it were catching flies, and
not deigning to notice us, though we passed close to it. A canoe with an
Indian woman in it, was paddling about at a very little distance. All these
beautiful woods to the right contain a host of venomous reptiles,
particularly the rattlesnake. Cranes and herons were fluttering across the
surface of the river, and the sportsmen brave the danger of the reptiles,
for the sake of shooting these and the beautiful rose-coloured spoonbills
and pheasants that abound there.
The approach from Tampico is very pretty, and about two miles from it on
the wooded shore, in a little verdant clearing, is a beautiful
_ranchito_--a small farmhouse, white and clean, with a pretty piazza. In
this farm they keep cows and sell milk, and it looks the very picture of
rural comfort, which always comes with double charm when one has been
accustomed to the sight of the foaming surges and the discomforts of a
tempest-tossed ship. The sailors called it "El Paso" (the pass) "de Doña
Cecilia;" which sounded delightfully romantic. The proprietress, this Doña
Cecilia, who lives in such peaceful solitude, surrounded by mangroves, with
no other drawbacks to her felicity but snakes and alligators, haunted my
imagination. I trusted she was young, and lovely, and heart-broken; a
pensive lay nun who had retreated from the vanities and deceits of the
world to this secluded spot, where she lived like a heroine upon the
produce of her flocks, with some "neat-handed Phillis," to milk the cows
and churn the butter, while she sat rapt in contemplation of the stars
above or the snakes below. It was not until after our arrival at Tampico
that I had the mortification to discover that the interesting creature, the
charming recluse, is seventy-eight, and has just buried her seventh
husband! I accept the account doubtingly, and henceforth shall endeavour to
picture her to my mind as an ancient enchantress, dwelling amongst
serpents, and making her venomous charms of
"Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting.
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing."
As you approach Tampico, the first houses that meet the eye, have the
effect of a number of coloured band-boxes; some blue, some white, which a
party of tired milliners have laid down amongst the rushes. On leaving the
boat, and walking through the town, though there are some solid stone
dwellings, I could have fancied myself in a New England village. Neat
"shingle palaces," with piazzas and pillars; nothing Spanish, and upon the
whole, an air of cleanness and cheerfulness astonishing to me who have
fancied Tampico an earthly purgatory. We afterwards heard that these houses
were actually made in the United States and sent out here. There are some
good-looking _stores_; and though there is certainly little uniformity in
the architecture of the houses, yet considering the city was built only
sixteen years ago, I consider it a slandered place. In 1825 there were but
a few Indian huts here, and any little commerce there was, concentrated
itself in _Pueblo Viejo,_ which stands on the shores of a lake some miles
off. We were taken to the house of a Spanish consul, a fine, airy, stone
building with a gay view from the windows;--the very first house that was
built in the place.
Its owner, Don Juan de la Lastra, Spanish vice-consul, is not here himself,
but we were kindly received by Don Josd de Comez Mira, the consul. In the
evening all the principal Spaniards in the place came to see C---n; and
having arrived here yesterday morning as perfect strangers, without the
probability of finding any one whom we knew, we find ourselves surrounded
by the most unexpected and gratifying attentions. As to what is called
society, there is literally none in Tampico. Those who live here, have come
in the hope of making their fortune; and the few married men who are
amongst them have been unwilling to expose their wives to the unhealthy
climate, the plague of mosquitoes and _xins-xins,_ the intermittent fevers,
which are more to be dreaded here than the yellow fever, and the nearly
total deprivation of respectable female society. The men, at least the
Spaniards, unite in a sort of club, and amuse their leisure evenings with
cards and billiards; but the absence of ladies' society must always make it
dull. Riding and shooting in the neighbourhood are their out-of-door
amusements, and there is excellent sport along the river, which may be
enjoyed when the heat is not too intense.
Our captain, who has paid us a visit this evening, with several Englishmen,
expects to get off to-morrow. We staid at home in the morning on account of
the heat, and wrote letters, but in the afternoon we made the most of our
time, walking about the city, in which there is not much to see. There are
many comfortable-looking large houses, generally built according to the
customs of the country whereof the proprietor is a native. Were it not for
the bar, which is a terrible obstacle, not only from the danger in crossing
it, but the detention that it causes, vessels having been stopped outside
for months, Tampico would become a most flourishing port. Besides that the
depth of water can permit vessels of burden to anchor near the town, there
is an interior navigation up the country, for upwards of forty leagues.
The banks of the river are described as being very beautiful, which we can
easily believe from what we have already seen; but for its beauties after
passing Tampico; its wooded shores dotted with white ranchos, its large
cattle farms, and its picturesque old Indian town of Panuco, we must trust
to hearsay. The country in the vicinity is described as being a wilderness
of rare trees, matted together with graceful and flowering creepers, the
wild haunts of birds of bright and beautiful plumage; but our ardour to
visit these tangled shrubberies was damped by the accounts of myriads of
_xins-xins_ and _garrapatos;_ little insects that bury themselves in the
skin, producing irritation and fever; of the swarming mosquitoes,--the
horrid caimans that bask on the shore; and worse than all, the venomous
snakes that glide amongst the rank vegetation. Parrots and butterflies and
fragrant flowers will not compensate for these.
We have just been hearing a curious circumstance connected with poisonous
reptiles, which I have learned for the first time. Here, and all along the
coast, the people are in the habit of inoculating themselves with the
poison of the rattlesnake, which renders them safe from the bite of all
venomous animals. The person to be inoculated is pricked with the tooth of
a serpent, on the tongue, in both arms and on various parts of the body;
and the venom introduced into the wounds. An eruption comes out, which
lasts a few days. Ever after, these persons can handle the most venomous
snakes with impunity; can make them come by calling them, have great
pleasure in fondling them; and the bite of these persons is poisonous! You
will not believe this; but we have the testimony of seven or eight
respectable merchants to the fact. A gentleman who breakfasted here this
morning, says that he has been vainly endeavouring to make up his mind to
submit to the operation, as he is very much exposed where he lives, and is
obliged to travel a great deal on the coast; that when he goes on these
expeditions, he is always accompanied by his servant, an inoculated negro,
who has the power of curing him, should he be bit, by sucking the poison
from the wound. He also saw this negro cure the bite given by an inoculated
Indian boy to a white boy with whom he was fighting, and who was the
stronger of the two. The stories of the eastern jugglers, and their power
over these reptiles, may perhaps be accounted for in this way. I cannot say
that I should like to have so much _snaky_ nature transferred into my
composition, nor to live amongst people whose bite is venomous....
We have just returned from a moonlight walk to the Glorieta, a public
promenade which they are making here, where there are some stone benches
for the promenaders, close to which some public-spirited individuals had
dragged the carcase of a horse, which obliged us to retrace our steps with
all convenient speed.
As for provisions in this place, if we may judge by the specimens we have
seen in this house, they are both good and abundant. We had especially fine
fish, and a variety of vegetables. To-morrow, alas! we return to our
packet, much refreshed, however, by two pleasant days on shore, and
consoling ourselves for our prolonged voyage by the reflection, that had we
gone direct to Havana, we should not have seen Tampico; and, as La
Fontaine's travelling pigeon says,
"Quiconque ne voit guere
N'a guere a dire aussi.
Mon voyage depeint
Vous sera d'un plaisir extreme.
Je dirai: j'étais là; telle chose m'avint:
Vous y croirez être vous-même."[1]
[Footnote 1: He who sees little, little can he say;
And when my travels I describe some day,
And say, "That chanced to me--there I have been"--
The pleasure you will feel will be so great,
You will believe, while hearing me relate,
That all these wonders you yourself have seen.]
Once more on board our floating prison. A _norte_ is expected this evening,
but at least it will now be in our favour, and will drive us towards
Havana. Our Spanish friends concluded their cordial and disinterested
kindness, by setting off with us by daybreak this morning, in a large boat
with Spanish colours unfurled, crossing the bar with us, coming on board,
and running no small risk in recrossing it, with every prospect of a
norther before their eyes. We stopped at the house of the "_Marine
Monster_," Don Leonardo Mata, before crossing the bar, took up our shells,
and had the felicity of making his acquaintance. He is a colossal old man,
almost gigantic in height, and a Falstaff in breadth--gruff in his manners,
yet with a certain clumsy good-nature about him. He performs the office of
pilot with so much exclusiveness, charging such high prices, governing the
men with so iron a sway, and arranging everything so entirely according to
his own fancy, that he is a complete sovereign in his own small way--the
_tyrant of Tampico_. He has in his weather-beaten face such a mixture of
bluffness and slyness, with his gigantic person, and abrupt, half-savage
manners, that, altogether, I conceive him to be a character who might have
been worthy the attention of Walter Scott, had he chanced to encounter him.
Old and repulsive as he is, he has lately married a pretty young girl--a
subject on which he does not brook raillery. One amiable trait the old
tyrant has in his character--his affection for his old mother, who is
upwards of ninety, and who resides at Mahon, and to whom he is constant in
his attentions. At one time he was in the habit of sending her small sums
of money; but as they were frequently lost, he sent her five hundred
dollars at once by a safe conveyance. The old woman, he said, was so
frightened by seeing such a quantity of money in her hut, that she could
not sleep, and at length entrusted it to a _friend_, who carried it off
altogether. Since then he has assigned her fifteen dollars a month, upon
which the old woman lives in what she considers great luxury.
We took leave of our friends an hour or two ago, but do not expect to set
sail till the afternoon, as they are discharging the quicksilver which our
vessel brought, and loading the silver which we carry away. Three young
Englishmen came on board this morning, to see the packet, and are making a
disagreeable visit, being perfectly overwhelmed by sea-sickness.
2Oth.--Last night arose a furious norther. To-day it continues; but as it
is driving us towards our desired haven, and away from these dangerous
coasts, we need not complain. As usual on these occasions, I find myself
alone on the deck, never suffering from the universal prostrator of
landsmen. By way of variety, I have been sitting in the cabin, holding on
to the leg of a table, and trying to read Stephens, with as much attention
as circumstances will permit. All further attempts at _writing_ must be
delayed!
3Oth.--On the 21st the norther continued with unabated violence, the wild
wind and the boiling waves struggling on the agitated bosom of the ocean,
great billows swelling up one after the other, and threatening to engulf
us; the ship labouring and creaking as if all its timbers were parting
asunder, and the captain in such a state of intense suffering, that we were
in great apprehension for his life. Horrible days, and yet more horrible
nights! But they were succeeded by fine weather, and at length we had the
consolation of seeing the moon, smiling placidly down upon us, like a
harbinger of peace. On the evening of the twenty-sixth the full moon rose
with a troubled countenance, her disk obscured by angry clouds. She shook
them off, but still looked turbid and superb. A gloomy cloud, black as
night, still stretched over her like a pall, thickly veiling, yet not
entirely obscuring her light, and soon after she appeared, riding serenely
in the high heavens, mildly triumphant. Of all who sing the praises of the
moon, who should love her blessed beams from his inmost heart like the
seaman? Then the angry clouds dispersed;--the north wind blew freshly, but
not fiercely, as if even his blustering fury were partly soothed by the
influence of her placid light;--the studding-sails were set, and the Tyrian
bounded on her course eight knots an hour.
The next day the wind died away, and then blew lightly from the opposite
quarter. We were about two hundred and fifty miles from Havana, but were
then driven in the direction of Yucatan. The two following days we had
contrary wind, but charming weather. We studied the chart, and read, and
walked on deck, and played at drafts, and sat in the moonlight. The sea was
covered with flying fish, and the "Portuguese men of war," as the sailors
call the independent little nautilus, sailed contemptuously past us in
their fairy barks, as if they had been little steamers. A man fell
overboard, but the weather being calm, was saved immediately. We have been
tacking about and making our way slowly towards Havana, in a zigzag line.
Yesterday evening the moon rose in the form of a large heart, of a red gold
colour. This morning, about four o'clock, a fine fresh breeze sprung up
from the north-east, and we are going on our course at a great rate, with
some hopes of anchoring below the Morro this evening. To-day being Sunday,
we had prayers on deck, which the weather had not before permitted;--the
sailors all clean and attentive, as English sailors are. Last night they
sang "Rule Britannia," with great enthusiasm.
HAVANA, 31st.
Last evening we once more saw the beautiful bay of Havana, once more passed
the Morro, and our arrival was no sooner known, than the captain-general,
Don Geromino Valdés, sent his falua to bring us to the city, and even
wished us to go to his palace; but Don B---o H---a, who gave us so
hospitable a reception on our first visit, came on board, and kindly
insisted on taking us to his house, where we found everything as elegant
and comfortable as before, and from whence I now write these few lines.
In the midst of our pleasure at being once more on dry land, surrounded by
our former friends, and at receiving letters from home, we were shocked and
distressed to hear of the unexpected death of our friend, the Señora de
Gutierrez Estrada, who had followed her husband to Havana in his exile.
What a blow to him, to her mother, to all her friends!...
I shall send off this letter by the first opportunity, that you may know of
our safe arrival.
LETTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH
Havana--The Carnival--The Elssler--La Angosta--Ingenio of Count
V---a--General Bustamante--Lord Morpeth--Leave Havana--Voyage in the
Medway--Old Friends-Return to the United States.
HAVANA, February 27th.
It has been very agreeable for us to return here as private individuals,
and to receive the same attentions as when we came in a public situation,
but now with more real friendliness. Having arrived at the time of the
carnival, we have been in the midst of masked balls, which are curious to
see for once; of operas, dinners, and every species of gaiety. But
returning so soon, I shall enter into no details. The weather is beautiful,
and this house, situated on the bay, receives every sea-breeze as it blows.
The Elssler is still attracting immense and enthusiastic crowds; and is now
dancing at the theatre of Tacon, where she is seen to much more advantage
than in the other. We have been breakfasting in the luxurious _Quintets_ in
the neighbourhood, driving in the Paseo every evening in an open volante,
attending the opera; in short, leading so gay a life, that a little rest in
the country will be agreeable;--and we have accepted with pleasure the
invitation of Count and Countess F----a, to spend some time at _La
Angosta,_ one of his country places; a sugar and coffee estate. General
Bustamante arrived in the Jason, a few days after us, they having sailed
later. They had been very anxious concerning the fate of the Tyrian, in
these northern gales off Tampico. We have received letters from our Mexican
friends, and learn, with great sorrow, the death of the Dowager Marquesa de
Vivanco, and of the Señora H----a of Pascuaro--also the _murder_ of a
Spanish physician, with whom we were intimately acquainted,--at his distant
hacienda.
LA ANGOSTA, 13th March.
We have spent a most agreeable fortnight at La Angosta, and have also
visited the Count and Countess V---a, in their plantation near this.
General Bustamante was here for a day or two. Lord Morpeth also passed a
few days with us; so that altogether we have had a pleasant party. We have
been delighted with the elegant hospitality, without ostentation or
etiquette, which we have met with here. But we shall now return so soon,
that I shall reserve all particulars till we meet.
ON BOARD THE STEAM-SHIP MEDWAY, April 28th.
With a warning of only three hours, we came on board this splendid steamer,
eight days ago, after taking a hurried leave of our kind friends, at least
of all those who are now in Havana; for the Count and Countess de F---a,
and the Count and Countess de V---a are still in the country. Don B---o
H---a and his family accompanied us to the ship in the government _falua_.
General Bustamante, with his young aide-de-camp, together with Señor de
Gutierrez Estrada, and various other gentlemen, hearing of our sudden
departure, came out in boats to take leave of us. Alas! those
leave-takings.
We had the agreeable surprise of finding that we were acquainted with all
our fellow-passengers. There are our particular friends the E---s, the
padre F---n, and Mr. G---s, all from Mexico; M. D---s de M---s, who was
attached to the French legation in Mexico, and is now returning from a
mission to California; Mr. and Miss ----- of Boston, etc. We came on board
on the evening of the twentieth, but did not leave the harbour till the
morning of the twenty-first. The day was beautiful, and as we passed out,
we could distinguish the waving of many handkerchiefs from the balconies.
In this floating palace, with large airy berths, a beautiful cabin, an
agreeable society, books, a band of music, ices, etc.; not to mention that
important point, an excellent and good-hearted captain, we have passed our
time as pleasantly as if we were in the most splendid hotel.
On the twenty-third we went out in a little boat, in the middle of the
night, to Nassau, in New Providence, to buy some of those beautiful
specimens of shell-flowers, for which that place is celebrated. We set off
again at three in the morning of the twenty-fourth, on which day, being
Sunday, we had prayers on board. The weather was beautiful, and even with
contrary wind, the Medway went _steaming_ on her course at the rate of nine
knots an hour.
On the twenty-fifth we lay off Savannah. A pilot came on board, and we went
up the river in a boat to the city, where we passed an agreeable day, and
in the evening returned to the ship. Crowds of people from Savannah went
out to see the steamer. The next day we cast anchor off Charleston, and
again a pilot came on board; but the day was stormy and gloomy, and only
two of the passengers went on shore. We have now had several days of bad
weather; wind and rain; and one night a storm of thunder and lightning; yet
down in the cabin there is scarce any motion, and we have been sitting
reading and writing as quietly as if we were in our own rooms. After two
years and a half of spring and summer, we feel the cool very much.
29th.--We are now passing the Narrows. Once more the green shores of Staten
Island appear in sight. We left them two years and six months ago; just as
winter was preparing to throw his white shroud over the dolphin hues of the
dying autumn; the weather gloomy and tearful. Now the shores are covered
with the vegetation of spring, and the grass is as green as emeralds. I
shall write no more, for we must arrive to-day; and I shall be the bearer
of my own despatches.
The day is bright and beautiful. The band is playing its gayest airs. A
little boat is coming from the Quarantine. In a few minutes more we shall
be _at home!_
THE END
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