From H A R P E R ' S

MAGAZINS.

GARDEN SCENE.

TWO THOUSAND MILES

THROUGH

THE HEART OF MEXICO.

BY

REV. J. HENDRICKSON MCCARTY, D.D.,
AUTHOR OF " T H E BLACK HORSE AND CARRYALL," " INSIDE THE GATES," ETC.

NEW YORK: HUNT & EATON.
CINCINNATI:
CRANSTON & STOWE.

Copyright, 1886, by
PHILLIPS

&

NEW YORK.

HUNT,

917.2
M127t

TO
T H E M E M O R Y OF MY

MOTHER.
T H E AUTHOR.

INTRODUCTORY.
/7TVB0UT two years ago the author was enabled to
jAviki make somewhat of an extended tour through the
lotus land of Mexico, which is almost as old as time and
as quaint as Egypt itself.
Mexico is a marvelous conglomerate of the ancient
and the modern—the pathetic and the ludicrous. T o
gaze upon a country and mingle with a people of whom
he had read much in various books had long been a
cherished desire of his heart. And to be able to
gratify that desire constituted an epoch in his life.
When but a mere lad he had read the glowing accounts
of the famous battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma,
the storming of Monterey, and the victory of Buena
Vista, where the brave Taylor and his gallant troops won
renown. H e had also read of the bombardment of
Vera Cruz and its capture, along with the Castle of San
Juan d' Ulloa, the storming of the heights of Cerro Gordo,
the battles of Contreras and Molino del Rey, and the
fall of Chapultepec. Little did he then think that his
feet would ever press the soil crimsoned with the blood
of his countrymen in the far-away land of the Aztecs.
Of course, in a tour through Mexico there were many
points of special interest to be visited. In the following
pages he has kept in view the history of the stirring
events of the war of 1846 and 1847, interwoven alike, as
they are, in the annals of our own as well as in those of
our sister republic.

6

INTRODUCTORY.

There is no other land quite like Mexico. A wonderful
charm gathers about the scenery, whether it be mountain or valley, sea-coast or table-land. The story of
Mexico is as eventful as it is pathetic. Her people, in
many of their characteristics, are unlike any other on
the globe. Her history, which runs far back into the
past, is a sanguinary one. When the Aztec empire was
in its zenith of power her altars were stained perpetually
with the blood of human sacrifices. And ever since the
conquest her rich plains have been the scenes of innumerable fierce and bloody revolutions. Here truth is,
indeed, stranger than fiction. It has been said, " See
Naples and die." See Mexico and live!
To be able to do something to redeem that lofty land
should be a stimulus to one's life.
T h e author traveled through the most populous portion of the republic. The trip embraced about two
thousand miles within the territory. As far as possible
he allowed nothing worth seeing to escape his observation. Yet he does not claim to have seen every thing.
That would require years instead of months. H e journeyed by diligence, railway, and horseback, traversed
several mountain ranges, and courageously walked into
the crater of a volcano—an extinct one! He descended
into the bosom of the earth and witnessed the miners
blasting out the silver ore with cartridges of dynamite.
He saw the pure liquid metal running into the molds in
the haciendas de beneficios, and was compelled to 'carry
in his pocket, in heavy coin, sixteen dollars to the pound,
what was needed for temporary use. So that for once
in his life he had more solid cash than he wanted. H e
was on several of the largest ranches, where cattle and
horses roam in herds of thousands. He was in scores
of huts in the interior, as well as in some of the finest
dwellings in Mexico. T h e route took him through

INTRODUCTORY.

7

many villages and gave him an opportunity to visit
fifteen of the principal cities.
H e conversed with
people of all grades of society, from the ignorant peon,
in his rags and filth, up to persons of high social position,
including army officers, college professors, bankers and
merchants, as well as the governors of three States. "He
visited a number of the most renowned old Toltec and
Aztec remains, had free entry into art galleries, museums,
and schools. In short, he saw Mexico from Nuevo Leon,
on the extreme north-east, to Yucatan, on the far south,
studying every feature of the land-surface, and all the
customs and manners, religion and politics, of the
people as far as it was possible to do in so short a
period of time. That he mastered the subject he does
not pretend; he only claims to have improved the time
in sight-seeing, and to have gained some knowledge at
least of this wonderful land and its people, which will
be available in after years. Much has been omitted
that might have been written in these pages. The story
of Mexico is a long one. If the reader is disposed to
find fault with the frequent references to the predominant religion of Mexico, let it be remembered that the
Church is the largest thing in Mexico, and that the
" play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out " would be a poor
play. Even American Catholics, with some of whom he
has conversed on the subject, do not uphold the degraded form of their own faith among the Mexicans.
Facts are stubborn things.
The author left home in the railway coach " Mayflower," symbol of the nation to be, and returned in a
ship bearing the name of the capital of a nation that is,
t h e ' " City of Washington."
On reaching home he had the satisfaction of having
made one of the most profitable as well as enjoyable
trips of his life, even if he had to undergo some dis-

8

INTRODUCTORY.

comforts on the way. It was a sufficient compensation
for these to be able to see the land of the ancient
Aztecs, a portion of our own continent so near to us
geographically, and yet as remote socially, as if it were
on the opposite side of the globe.
If the reader would see Mexico/while the glamour
which Prescott's Conquest threw over it lingers, he must
go quickly, for the "prince, whose name is Young America, is already on the way to awake the Sleeping Beauty
from the repose of Centuries/'
Mexico, under the new light which is dawning upon
her social and civil fabrics, may yet have a future, let
us all hope, as brilliant as her past has been thrilling.
THE
PENN YAN, N. Y., June 17, 1886.

AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER

I. DREAMS REALIZED
II.

O N THE W I N G

I I I . GATE-WAYS TO THE LAND OF THE AZTECS

PAGE

11
17
29

IV. ACROSS THE R I O GRANDE

43

V. GEM OF T H E MOUNTAINS

50

VI. LAND OF T H E BEAUTIFUL V I E W
VII. AMID THE SIERRAS
V I I I . H U T L I F E AMONG THE AZTECS
IX. VILLAGE L I F E ON THE TABLE LANDS
X. T H E E Y E OF THE SIERRAS

62
76
85
94
105

XL T H E HAUNTS OF THE BANDITTI

117

XII. T H E HOME OF FORTY ROBBERS

121

X I I I . T H E VALES OF ANAHUAC

145

XIV. T H E ADVENTURER OF MIRAMAR

156

XV. T H E PARIS OF THE WESTERN WORLD
XVI. WANDERINGS ALONG OLD PATHS
XVII. FROM TOLTEC TO SPANIARD
XVIII. A GRIP OF STEEL
XIX. T H E MARCH OF SCOTT'S ARMY
XX. FROM SEA-COAST TO MOUNTAIN-CREST
XXI. SONGS IN THE N I G H T

170
191
202
217
241
255
273

TWO THOUSAND MILES THROUGH
THE HEART OF MEXICO.
__

4*+

C H A P T E R I.
DREAMS REALIZED.
Away from the snows—Short summers and long winters—So near
and yet so far—The art of travel—People who can be approached—
"All's not gold that glitters"—Oldest of countiies—The adjustment—First run—"Mayflower" and "Pilgrim"—Speed and safety
—Men die, but man does not—A thousand guards to life—The
Zero point of danger—Grumblers—Patience.

E X I C O ! In the month of February, 1884, wrhen
the winds were moaning dismally through the
naked branches of the trees, and all nature, as if asleep,
lay in quiet repose beneath a coverlet of snow all over
this north-land, I found myself able to realize a pleasure
which had long occupied a place only in my dreams—a
trip to the sunny land of Mexico.
Out of the cold and away from the snows into a tropical latitude, where I might inhale the aroma of rare
flowers and listen to the songs of other birds than those
whose warblings greet and cheer us in this northern
clime! What a privilege! I knew, from experience, all
about the short summers and long winters of the region
of the northern lakes, as well as the short winters and
long summers of the gulf coast. It was not only a
pleasure, but it seemed to be a duty I owed to my " d a y
and generation," that I should at least take a look at

M

12

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

our neighbor, whose cities are built and whose fields
are cultivated in sight of the Southern (jross. Mexico
is a country quite closely related to the United States
in form of civil government if not in religion. But taken
all in all, owing to its peculiar civilization, it is almost
as far removed from us as the antipodes.
This trip grew out of a desire to look upon that
strange old country once the home of the Toltecs, a
people who came and went away again more than a
thousand years ago, leaving many remarkable monuments of their rude civilization scattered overall the land,
from the valley of the Rio Bravo del Norte to the southern borders of Yucatan ; land of the Aztecs, a people
who succeeded the Toltecs, leaving behind them signs
of former power, whose children are yet numerous in the
land of their forefathers, and whose characteristics, well
defined and marked, will be noticed hereafter; land of
mountains, whose crested summits are whitened with
eternal snows; land of rich valleys burdened with luxurious tropical vegetation, and fertile plains filled with
perpetual bloom; land pre-eminent of political revolutions; that old land, that land of superstition and false
religion and consequent moral degradation; that richest
and at once poorest of all countries. I had long been
possessed of a strong desire to look upon it, to mingle
with its queer people, and study it from within, even
though a closer view should but confirm the impressions
made on the mind from reading a few of the many books
written upon Mexico by both American and European
authors.
I stood, satchel in hand, which contained my entire
traveling outfit, conversing with a few friends who had
come to the depot to offer their adieus, when " A l l
aboard! " shouted the conductor of the train on the
Erie Road, which was to bear me away on that winter

DREAMS REALIZED.

x

3

evening. "Good-bye!" " G o o d - b y e ! " "Safe journey!"
"Bon voyage!" " H o m e in M a y ! " were expressions
which yet linger in my recollection.
The train was soon in motion and I was really en route
toward Mexico. The last few hours before starting on
a journey one is usually very busy, and consequently
very weary. It matters not how early he begins the
needed preparation, there are always some last things
to be done, and they can only be done at the last.
I threw myself down in my berth, for I was tired, but
for two or three hours there was neither " sleep to mine
eyes, nor slumber to mine eyelids." It was like a first
night on the Atlantic Europeward.
It always takes
some time to adjust one's self to new conditions. , I had
just turned my back, not my heart, upon friends and
home.
There was no desire to sleep, but rather to think—
to think of friends gone, and of friends left behind
and living. I just wanted to cast off all cares, as trees
drop their leaves in autumn-time. When one departs
to rest or sight-see, it is not wise to go like a ship
freighted to the water's edge with a multitude of home
cares. So, acting on this principle, I shook them off—
not the friends, but the cares—and tucking the blankets
close about me, on that cold February night, gave rein to
my thoughts, which ran over the past somewhat, and
out on the present, and then down along the future.
"While I was musing the fire burned." The hours sped
away until at length all was lost in sleep. " Blessed is
the man who invented sleep," said Sancho Panza. With
a " conscience void of offense," and a good supper in
process of digestion, why shouldn't a weary traveler fall
off into pleasant dreams !
The first run was from Elmira, New York, to Cincinnati, Ohio. The particular parlor coach to which I was

i4

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

assigned bore the significant name " Mayflower "—hence
I became a " Pilgrim." Onward sped the " Mayflower "
toward the first objective point—Cincinnati.
What
speed! what safety! O the faith we have after all !—
not alone in God who keeps the planets in their course,
timing them so perfectly that there never can be a a
wreck of matter and a crash of worlds " about which
poets have dreamed, but in man too.
The Builder and Preserver of worlds is not dead.
" In him we live, and move, and have our being." Man
is not dead either, and I thought of it as I drew the
covering over me.
The train speeds on through the dark, up the grades
and down the grades, around the curves, over bridges
and through the sleeping valleys, and withal there is not
much danger to life or limb. Does the reader ask
why ? Because man is not dead. Men die, but man
does not; he lives on and on forever.
There he stands on the platform of the engine, a
master-spirit controlling that monster thing whose
heart-throbs keep in motion this long train with its
precious freightage.
Were he to fail in his duty
what sadness might come to scores of homes over all
the land !
But he does not fail. His arm is ready to curb the
fury of his iron steed, or control its power as easily as a
mother governs her child. His hand is on the lever;
his eye is on the track; his ear is open to catch every
sound, while his own heart possibly is beating its warm
pulses for some dear wife and child a hundred miles
away. On and still on we fly, trusting all to God and
man. Conductors and train-men are awake the night
through, guarding the lives and property committed to
their keeping. Far out in the darkness lanterns are
swinging, lights are revolving, green, red, white. Wheels

DREAMS REALIZED.

*5

are pounded at the stations by men whose trained ears
can quickly detect the slightest divergence from soundness. Switchmen are guarding the switches. Telegraph
operators are bending over their tables, amid a din of
noisy clicks, reading what is worse than Hebrew to the
uninitiated.
No, n o ; man is not dead, and the traveler can lie down
knowing that a thousand men between Elmira and
Cincinnati are standing guard over his life. Why not
feel safe ?
After having journeyed much, and in many regions,
by railway and steamer, I have never yet seen a railway
or steam-ship accident. One may make the circuit of
the globe and return in safety, and then, alas ! lose his
life in going to the nearest town. It is really wonderful that the percentage of lives lost in traveling should
be so small. On all seas and over all lands thousands
upon thousands are traveling, and only a few comparatively lose their lives by accident.
It is not well when one starts on a journey, long or
short, to begin to speculate on the possible disasters
that may befall him. " Sufficient unto the day is the
evil thereof." But I was going to remark that there is
always some danger in traveling. At any moment a
train m a y b e wrecked or a boat may sink. Some one
has said, " Man thinks all other men mortal but himself." It is true. But ii there is a little danger in
traveling a distance of ten miles on a railway train anywhere, the danger does not increase ten times that
amount in going a hundred miles, nor a hundred times
that much in going a thousand miles; else few would
start upon long journeys, and so it comes to pass that
the danger-point is near Zero.
Our train was a couple of hours late when it reached
Cincinnati. When one thinks of this distance, and the

Í6

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

possibilities always in travel, it is not at all wonderful that
we should be a trifle late ; it would be almost a miracle
if we were not. Traveling a$ much as any thing else
brings out human nature. How impatient some are,
and how ready to complain! " I will never go to St.
Louis again by this line, for it is most wretchedly managed," says one. " I shall miss all my connections for
the West, and it will be a most terrible disappointment,"
mutters another. While a gruff old fellow thought the
railroad company might be prosecuted for not fulfilling
the contract implied in the purchase of a ticket. As I
sat there listening to these grumblers, I thought of the
old lady who ascribed her long life and good health to
the "obsarvance of that Scriptur' which says, Fret not
J
thy gizzard ! "
T h e best outfit, next to a pure heart and a good conscience, is a happy and contented mind. " Godliness
with contentment is great gain," even when one is on a
journey by car or boat.
O, traveler, whenever you pack your satchel for a tour
of eight thousand miles, more or less, be careful to stow
àway somewhere a good stock of patience.

O N THE WING.

i7

CHAPTER II.
ON

THE

WING.

Cincinnati—Verge of spring—The great flood—Breath of Boreas
—The ideal versus the actual railway—St. Louis hardness, lime,
and wind—The old French power in America—Arkansaw versus
Arkansas—Coal and gold—Negro and caste—In hot walei—Texas
and green grass—Extent and vaiied history—Moie 100m wanted
—Corner lots—Two lovers.

m

H E reader must bear with me in what may seem to
be a digression from the main subject. If he is in
haste to plunge into the middle of this book to know
what the author thinks of Mexico and its people, this,
and possibly another chapter or two, can be passed over.
But one thing is certain, I was as anxious to enter the
land of the ancient Aztecs as the reader can well be to
read about it from these pages. Will it not be well to
move slowly ? Patience, therefore, is the word. The
time was when Cincinnati was only a frontier town in the
then very distant West, almost beyond the abodes of
civilization. Now it is a large city in about the center
of the population of these United States. The " Mayflower " wheeled into the depot a little after schedule
time. The building so called was only a temporary
structure, awaiting the erection of a more commodious
and beautiful one. I had noticed, as the train drew
near Cincinnati, that the snow had all disappeared, and
that the grass on sunny southern slopes was commencing
to show signs of life. Nature was already beginning to
awake. She was in the condition of some people when
2

j8

T H R O U G H THE HÈA.RT OF M E X I C O .

they first open their eyes in the morning, not quite
ready to get up. She wanted " a little more sleep and
a little more slumber." It was too early for spring to
arise and come forth. The air was, nevertheless, quite
balmy, and I began to felicitate myself on at least a
speedy escape from snow and ice. If I had caught
some severe colds during the winter; I should, doubtless,
catch some big warms before I got out of México and
Yucatan. Being familiar with Cincinnati, and having
to lie over a couple of hours, a good opportunity was
afforded to take a stroll and obtain a glimpse of the devastation caused by the great inundation which so recently had come upon that whole region. At this date
the waters had retired, and, as in Noah's day, once
more the dry land had appeared. But the country wore
a strange appearance. It looked as if some giant had
gone over it with a broom and given it a mud-wash.
The whole landscape had a yellowish tinge. Over all
the region around Cincinnati the destruction had been
very great. 'Probably not less than seventy-five square
miles of territory, included in the lower part of the
corporation and surroundings, had been almost ruined.
Hundreds of houses had been carried away bodily. It
is true they were mostly cheap and poorly built wooden
structures, but they were the homes of hard-working
people, and to their owners and occupants were as
highly prized as the stately mansions upon Walnut Hills
are prized by the rich people who own and live in them.
From Columbia, above the city, all the way around to
Spring Grove Cemetery, a distance of twenty-five miles,
and across to the city of Newport, on the Kentucky side,
all had been literally under water. The Ohio was like
an inland sea, whose waters rushed and foamed and engulfed. Thousands of people were shut in their upper
rooms, above the water-line, to whom fuel and provisions

O N THE WING.

19

were conveyed by small boats. T h e gardeners, who
raise vegetables for the Cincinnati market on the lowlands, must begin life anew, their buildings, and the
frames for their hot-beds having been borne away by
the flood. The ground has been enriched by a new deposit of fresh sediment, it is true ; but, good as that is,
it cannot replace the loss sustained in the destruction of
buildings and farm implements. I came in from a walk
and took my seat in the dining-room of the substitute
for the Grand Central, and called for supper, which was
soon served by an intelligent young man of African
blood. In speaking of the flood, he said that the water
right where I was sitting had been about one foot higher
than the top of my head, and that the depot was like a
great mud-hole after the waters had subsided. Along
the banks of the river were many overturned houses,
while hundreds had gone down stream to make kindling
wood for the people along the lower Mississippi.
The train pulled out of the Cincinnati station at half
past eight o'clock for St. Louis. But a snow-storm was
just setting in, and the spring-like appearance of the previous day was all gone. The ground was white with snow,
and a westerly wind betokened a " blizzard." St. Louis
was reached next day at eleven o'clock instead of seven
o'clock, as the time-tables promised.
There are two
kinds of railroads—the ideal and the actual. The ideal
railroad is perfect. T h e train leaves on the minute and
stops on the minute, and there is not a single delay anywhere, nor a break in any piece of machinery. No employee ever makes a mistake. Every thing moves like
the sun, and all the passengers are happy. But the
actual railroad ever reveals to us human imperfections.
No man with the best rule can draw a perfectly straight
line, nor with the best compass describe a perfect circle;
for nothing human is perfect. Well, these imperfections

2o

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

show themselves occasionally in cold cars, detentions,
late trains, and many minor annoyances to the traveler;
but in all these things we must learn the art of living
contentedly.
Let "patience have its perfect work."
The actual railroad is for the benefit of the growlers,
It gives them an opportunity to show off their dispositions. On this occasion they were not thankful because
we had come safely over^a road that had been washed
out in many places by the recent floods, nor for the fact
that there had been no collisions or broken rails or
wrecked bridges to send the whole company into eternity.
O no ! the average man is selfish, unthankful, and wants
to have his own way and every body else's way at the
same time. Once we were quite content when we traveled six miles an hour—now we must chase through life
forty or fifty miles an hour, and, if a train is an hour or
two late in reaching its destination, every one finds fault
with the railway company. But where is this " sunny
South ? " During the night Cincinnati softness had become St. Louis hardness, and when our train reached the
depot the chill was severe. T h e mercury was below zero.
St. Louis is built on a limestone formation, and the
streets are macadamized or paved with it in many
places. The perpetual pounding of myriads of hoofs
and the crushing of ten thousand wheels have pulverized
the limestone into dust, and when it is dry, as it was
on this occasion, and the wind blows fiercely, as it did
then, the air becomes laden with dust almost to suffocation. St. Louis is a very large and prosperous city, the
rival of Chicago; the latter has the railroads and the
lakes, the former the railroads and the Mississippi River.
Chicago is the entrepot of the mighty North-west; St.
Louis is the entrepot of the mighty South-west. Both
will continue to grow; but which will outgrow the other ?
Let Chicago answer ! The name St. Louis tells of the

O N THE WING.

21

old French power in America, when heroic priests,
spurred on by religious zeal, joined with love of adventure, sought foothold in the new world. T h a t history
records many of the boldest adventures ever undertaken
by man. Think of the distance from Quebec to New
Orleans, including the whole of the great lake region
which lies between Canada and the United States!
France was emulating Spain in those days. Possibly
commerce was joined with religion at Quebec; but the
spirit of exploration and conquest for the Church of
France and Rome sent Peré Marquette and his fellow
missionaries traversing these lands and cruising on their
waters. Canada then embraced a large country. The
legend in regard to its name may or may not be true.
Then the Indian said to the adventurous white man in
quest of gold, aca nada—nothing here—no gold here—
and so aca nada became Canada. But if there were
no gold mines, there were lands whose productions are
easily transmuted into gold.
The city of St. Louis is well situated at the-junction
of the Ohio with the " Father of Waters," but the Mississippi rises far up to the northward. Even Lake Itasca,
out of which it rises, bears the stamp of these same old
French Jesuit propagandists. T h e story runs, as I have
read somewhere, that when the source of the Mississippi
was reached, and a name was needed for it, the old
priest said, " What shall we call it ? " Various names
were suggested; but none suited him. " L e t us," said
he, " invent a new name. This is the true head of the
Mississippi; in Latin that would be Veritas caput. Now
cut off the ver and the put, and you have Itasca."
St. Louis was left behind, and I found myself headed
toward the more distant South. It was spring-time in
this region, but the snows had fallen over Missouri and,
Arkansas, and the winds were cold and piercing. This

22

THROUGH

THE

HEART

OF

MEXICO.

name should be pronounced Arkansaw^ for a pamphlet
was written by a learned Arkansas judge in support of
it, and the State Legislature passed an act making it
authoritative. The reasoning in the case was largely
analogical. For instance, Tensas Parish, in Louisiana,
which was settled by Creole French and Acadian s, is
pronounced Tensaw. Tamaulipas in Mexico is properly
pronounced Tamaulipaw; hence Arkansas should be
pronounced Arkansaw. But custom, in the pronunciation of names especially, makes law, so- say " them literary fellers," as scholarly Congressmen were called by
some one. I was once present at a school where a
teacher was1 hearing a class in English analysis. The
lesson was from Pope, and a young miss read :
" Lo ! the poor Indian, whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind."

" W y n d , " said the professor, " n o t wind." And the
pupil so read it until she came to the couplet:
" And thinks admitted to yon equal sky,
His faithful dog shall bear him company."

" Correct," remarked the professor. " Why so ?" said I>
" custom is capricious. If w-i-n-d should be pronounced
wynd, why should not company be pronounced comp a n y ? " " But custom makes law, and custom is capricious," said the professor.
Well, this State of Arkansas is a territory three hundred miles across either way, and lying between the hot
belt bordered by the Gulf of Mexico and the cold belt
bordered by the great lakes, the climate is very mild
and equable. T h e State is traversed by the Blue Mountain range, which at no point rises to an altitude above
two thousand feet. T h e country is quite level. In the
northern part it is heavily timbered with a mixture of

O N THE WING.

23

pine and hard wood. In the southern part not so
much so. Coal of good quality is found in some sections in large quantities. Reports are current, too, of
gold and silver some distance south of Hot Springs
city, but as yet it is not known whether it exists in
paying quantities 01 not. Arkansas is not a wheat State,
but raises good corn and cotton. No finer fruit region
can be found. In the museum of the Iron Mountain
Railroad, at Little Rock, may be seen preserved specimens of apples, pears, peaches, plums, etc., equaling
those of California. But much of the territory of the
State is very sterile. Even the trees show it in their
stunted appearance. T h e Iron Mountain Railway, which
crosses the State from the north-east to the south-west,
is doing much toward bringing Arkansas into the notice
of the world. The country people whom I chanced to
meet in the villages and on the trains were exceedingly
rustic in their manners and appearance. The Negroes
are not so numerous here as they are in Georgia and
Louisiana, though they make up a considerable percentage of the whole population. The old caste spirit seems
to have pretty much died out, for I noticed that in the
second-class cars blacks and whites rode together promiscuously in entire harmony. That would not have
been tolerated a few years ago. It is not allowed even
yet in some of the Southern States. The State has a
good public-school system for all its children, colored
as well as white. But I must pass by Little Rock and
the city of Hot Springs, with its numerous hotels, its
heated waters, which bubble out of the rocks hot enough
to cook an egg, and its strange mixture of people, sick
and well.
I must omit any description of the ancient mounds
around Malvern, which tell of that strange people, the
mound-builders, who once dwelt here, but who have de-

24

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

parted to the land of the unknown. I turned into my
berth just as the train pulled out of Texarkana Station,
on the Texas and Pacific Railway. Texarkana is situated at the junction of the three States, Texas, Arkansas,
and Louisiana, each of which forms a part of the name.
I regretted to be compelled to pass over three hundred
miles of northern Texas in the night-time, but the conductor of the train assured me that any one square mile
was a fair sample of the whole region through which we
would travel. The weather had been growing warmer
as we approached the real South. Now I was in Texas,
and at one of the stations actually got out and put my
feet on Texas soil. But has the reader any correct idea
of the extent of this territory ?
Texas extends from Galveston, on the Gulf of Mexico, north-westerly to near the junction of Colorado
with Kansas, and from the western boundary of Louisiana to the center of the southern boundary of New
Mexico, which any one can see by looking at the map.
It is equal in geographical extent to six En glands. If
all the cities and villages with all the people of our
great United States were taken up and put down upon
Texas, it would not be crowded as densely as many
portions of the Old World. It has the possibilities of
an empire in itself.
What a history Texas has had. Once under the rule
of Spanish Mexico—the arena of many a bloody conflict—now independent of Mexican rule, and anon held
in the strong grip of Mexican armies. At one period
the " L o n e Star Republic," and then a member of the
American confederation of States. Out of the Union by
Confederate action in i 8 6 i , b a c k in the Union by the fall
of the Confederacy in 1865, and to-day one of the richest and most prosperous States in the Union, one of the
brightest stars in the galaxy of the great Republic.

O N THE WING.

2

5

Louisiana was once a vast territory reaching far up
into the great North-west. Its purchase from France, at
an insignificant price compared with its value to the nation, was a most masterly stroke of good statesmanship.
Ben Franklin said : " Never buy what you don't need
because it is cheap, for if you do, it will prove to be
dear enough in the e n d ; " or at least he said something
very much like that.
We purchased Louisiana cheap, and Ave needed it.
Texas once belonged to Mexico, and so did all that vast
region north to the Indian Territory—Colorado and California—including New Mexico and Arizona. San Francisco, previous to 1847, w a s a Mexican port. The war
with Mexico really began in 1845, when Gen. Taylor
occupied Corpus Christi, and ended in 1847, when
Gen. Scott took the capital. That war was fought in
the interest of American slavery. Mexican soil was
drenched with blood to make room for our then socalled " peculiar institution."
A slave market was
wanted by Southern statesmen. Texas we had and
must have, and they said we must have more than
that.
The territory which our government acquired by the
treaty of Guadalupe de Hidalgo cost us in cash, for
war expenses and purchase money, one hundred and
thirty-four millions of dollars, and twenty-five thousand
lives, when, it has been said, the whole territory could
have been purchased outright for thirty millions without war. By that treaty, inclusive of Texas, the United
States came into possession of territory equal to seventeen States as large as the State"* of New York, or about
one half of the land area of the Mexican domain. We
needed the territory, not for slavery, but for civilization
and freedom, and God permitted us to acquire it, though
the motives actuating the breasts of the chief actors in

26

THROUGH THE HEART

OF M E X I C O .

that whole affair cannot be commended from a moral
stand-point.
In those days our politicians were speculating in corner lots, and doing it very successfully.
Texas has
much poor soil, but it has also a vast amount of good
and arable land. Almost any thing that grows out of
the earth can be produced in some part of Texas. It is
especially adapted to grazing, however, and is a great
cattle-producing region. Many are the men who have
acquired and are acquiring princely fortunes in this
line of industry in Texas.
As the train drew near San Antonio the grass was
very green. The soil had changed from an ironish or
limeish appearance to that of a dark rich loam. T h e
absence of timber is noticeable, and what trees there are
scattered over the plains are small and of second growth.
At all the stations where the train stops, even for a
minute or two, men and boys, black and white, come
running and stand and gape and stare at the passengers,
as if they were a lot of imported white elephants.
Some stand with their hands thrust down into their
pockets—as if t o . show their emptiness—others have
cakes and apples to sell. The store-rooms and saloon
buildings have high and square fronts, which rise above
the roof of the porches, and cause the structures to
resemble Texas steers, with the space between their
horns boarded up.
The scenery is monotonous, level
and rich here, level and poor and stony there. Over
the southern part of Texas grows the Nopal cactus,
and the mesquite, the latter a beautiful shrub just now
very green.
Owing to the good understanding of mankind, a train
full of people can come from Boston to San Antonio,
or go from New York to San Francisco, without change.
The standard gauge permits this. Unity is the word of

O N THE WING.

27

the hour. Napoleon the First had a dream, and a
splendid dream it was, that of unifying all of Europe,
giving all a common standard of weights and measures,
and a common standard of coin. The American nation must realize this dream of the great Corsican.
The standard railroad gauge, standard time, standard
bank bills, standard English speech, " standard oil,"
plus the American eagle, will conquer the continent in
the end.
Morning came, my first morning in Texas. A long
ride was before me, and the day must be passed in looking out of the window upon the country, chatting with
the passengers, and taking an occasional romp with the
children for recreation. Just now, to relieve the monotony, there comes into our coach a Texan and Texaness,
evidently a bride and groom fresh from Hymen's altar.
How do I know ? Because they appear a little abashed,
a trifle awkward. They have just been made one and
are on their way to San Antonio, I imagine. They may
be brother and sister, or cousins; but no, he is too attentive to her for that. She is more than sister any way.
H e is a gaunt, strapping fellow, six feet tall and over
twenty-one years old, weighs nearly or quite two
hundred pounds, is brown skinned, and wears a broadbrimmed white hat just out of the store. H e has on buffcolored pants and a blue coat, with large buttons, is shod
with heavy shoes, is without a neck-tie—a slovenly habit
common in some sections of the South among many.
Every few minutes he looks at a great moon-shaped
watch, which he pulls out of his pocket. His mustache,
like his hair, is black, and promises well if kept under a
good state of cultivation, but is a little sickly yet. It
is like an approaching comet, faintly visible to the
naked eye. She is rather a bright-looking little lady,
plainly but neatly attired in a brown silk. Over her

28

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

shoulders rests easily a very light white zephyr shawl.
She has on a brown straw hat with blue trimmings,
which is further ornamented with a crimson rose surmounting a spray of green. It don't look quite right,
but what the matter is I cannot tell. The little Texaness has about her neck a very neat fixture held together by a modest pin. What she saw in that great
awkward man to attract her attention and win her
heart she only knows. She looks up into his face and
leans over on his arm very prettily at times, precisely
as if she were not a bit afraid of him.
Ah, who
knows what a great hearted generous soul he may be
after all!

GATE-WAYS

TO T H E

LAND

OF T H E A Z T E C S .

29

CHAPTER III.
GATE-WAYS TO T H E LAND OF T H E AZTECS.
Routes to select from—Quick and easy—Long and hard—San Antonio, old and quaint plazas and past times—Struggles of early days—
The Alamo and its story—Mexican invasion—Bloody scenes—Santa
Anna—Genial skies—Davy Crockett, the hero—The old mission
ruins—What might be—Springs of Saint Peter—Street-car scene—
Mixed—The Spanish mule, etc.

y

I N H E R E are a number of routes by which the tourist
^ À^ can reach Mexico from the Atlantic side. First,
he can purchase tickets over the Texas and Pacific Railway from St. Louis to El Paso. This latter point is two
thousand four hundred and fifty-six miles from New
York. Thence he can reach the city of Mexico, distant
one thousand two hundred miles, by way of the Mexican
Central Railroad It will be seen that by this route the
distance from the city of New York to the Mexican
capital is three thousand six hundred and fifty-six
miles.
On the American side the road runs through one of
the finest sections of our continent, a region whose future is yet to be. On the Mexican side the country is
level, barren, and monotonous. Humboldt described it
as a great table-land, which could be traveled in fourwheeled carriages without the advantage of artificially
prepared roads. The tourist can take another route,
and go by rail to New Orleans, and thence by steamer
to Vera Cruz. Or he can take steamer at New York,
and sail by way of Havana to Vera Cruz. Thence he

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

can go directly by rail to the city of Mexico, visit a few
points of interest in and around the capital, and return
home by the same route. I once knew of a gentleman
who visited Palestine after that fashion. H e went to
Rome, and crossed the Mediterranean Sea to Alexandria.
There he took ship to Jaffa, and from the latter place
went on horseback to Jerusalem, where he remained
over night. Then he rode the same horse back to Jaffa
the following day, took passage on the same steamer to
Alexandria, and came home. H e spent the following
winter in delivering lectures on " Travels in Palestine ! "
The route selected for this trip to Mexico was not the
longest, but it was the hardest of any. It was one which
would take me over the Sierra Madre—a journey
which would involve five or six hundred miles of staging, and would not only enable me to rough it, but it
would show me the very heart of Mexico, and that was
the end in view. San Antonio and Laredo constitute
the gate-ways through which one must pass in taking this
route. Both once belonged to Mexico. So I began to get
a glimpse of Mexican life while yet in our own country.
San Antonio, or the (iAlamo c i t y " as it is poetically
called, when speaking of the storied past, may well be
considered historic. Just when it was founded is not
certainly known. But ancient records show that Texas
was invaded by the French and Spaniards as far back
as the latter part of the sixteenth century. The most
definite information given is that in 1714 the old San
Antonio road into Mexico was laid out, and a military post
established at this point.
In 1733 the city was granted a charter by the King of
Spain, which was confirmed by the Texas republic one
hundred and four years later. The subsequent events
which transpired during the heroic struggle of the brave

G A T E - W A Y S TO T H E L A N D OF T H E A Z T E C S .

31

Texans for independence are so well known as to need no
repetition here. As a resort for the invalid, the historian,
or the pleasure-seeker, the " Alamo city " possesses superior charms and advantages. The " San Pedro " springs,
the beautiful little San Antonio River, the romantic and
picturesque nooks along its banks, the many «poitions of
this frontier city which have been baptized in human
blood, render this locality rich in history and deeds of valor
and devotion to principle, causing the thoughts of visitors, as well as of her citizens, to turn naturally to the
important events of the past.
San Antonio will, undoubtedly, have a future as remarkable as its past has been interesting. Every stranger who visits this queer old Spanish American city
must, of course, see the sights about town, and so I
sallied forth first to the plazas—the Plaza Mayor, the
Plaza de Armas, and then the Alamo. San Antonio having once been a Mexican city, the plaza is an institution,
as we Americans are in the habit of calling things which
we regard as very common or necessary. T h e plaza
will be described when Mexico proper is reached.
The most interesting historic point here is the Alamo.
The Alamo was one of the " m i s s i o n s " founded by
the Catholic Church, more than a century and a half
ago, under the name of San Antonio Valero. It was
some distance east of the city, but is now almost in its
center. It is not the Alamo as a " mission " that is now
so full of interest, but the Alamo as a fort, into which
it was converted by the necessities of war—the scene of
one of the fiercest of struggles, where occurred a sacrifice
which made it the Thermopylae of America, as we shall
see. Any one acquainted with the early struggles
through which this country has passed cannot fail to be
interested in the old Alamo, the scene of the most
memorable battle ever fought on the soil of Texas—the

$2

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

altar on which as brave men as ever breathed yielded
up their lives in the cause of liberty and popular government. The Alamo,* now, alas ! instead of being preserved as a landmark, has been utilized as a grocery
warehouse.
Having read of the great struggles in and around the
Alamo when the Texans were fighting to free themselves from Mexican rule, its present size quite disappointed me. The main chapel, now recognized as the
Alamo, is only about seventy-five feet long by sixty-five
feet in width. The walls are four feet thick, and about
twenty-three in height, built of solid masonry. It fronts
to the west. In the days of its glory it was much more
pretentious. From the north-west corner a wall extended fifty feet to a convent building. The convent
was of two stories, one hundred and eighty-six feet in
length and eighteen feet in width, with flat roof. From
the north-east corner of the chapel a strongly-built
stockade extended seventy-five feet to a building called
the prison. T h e latter was a one-story structure, one
hundred and fifteen feet in length by seventeen feet in
width, and was joined to a portion of the east wall. T h e
patio^ or court, inclosed within these various walls was
one hundred and fifty-four yards in length by fifty-four
in width, and embraced between two and three acres.
Here a thousand men could find ample shelter, and defend themselves with arms against an attacking foe.
The outer walls were two and a half feet thick and eight
feet high.
T h e Alamo was first used for defense against hostile
Indians, and was, consequently, destitute of salient and
* The name signifies cotton-wood in Spanish, and was probably
given to it by the Mexican troops who came there in the olden times
from Fort Alamo de Parras, in the State of Coahuila, to which Texas,
as a Mexican province, was attached.

G A T E - W A Y S TO T H E L A N D OF T H E A Z T E C S .

33

dominant points in case of bombardment. From a
local history we are told that—
" A t the time of the memorable siege, which resulted
in the heroic death of all of its brave defenders, on the
6th of March, 1836, three heavy guns were planted
upon the walls of the church—one pointed north toward
the old mill, one pointed west toward the city, and one
south toward the village of La Villeta, where Santa
Anna pitched his chief camp. Two guns protected the
stockade between the church and prison, and an
eighteen-pounder was planted at the south-west angle
of the main square. A twelve-pound carronade protected the center of the west wall, and an eight-pounder
protected the north-west angle. Two guns were also
planted on the north wall of the plaza, making in
all ten guns in position.
Over the church building,
the present Alamo, floated the flag of the Provisional
Government of Texas, as it was called, but at that time
the struggle of the Texans was for the re-establishment
of the Constitution of 1824 and the securing of the
granted rights to the colonists, and against the tyrannical policy of confiscation and annihilation as adopted
by the usurper, Santa Anna. The Declaration of Independence of Texas was not passed until nearly a month
later. T h e flag, therefore, consisted of the Mexican
tricolor, with the numerals 1824 in the place of the
eagle in the white stripe.
" After the battle the Alamo was a ruin. The arched
roof was destroyed and the walls were marked by the
cannon-balls, and in some places serious breaches
had been made in them.
For fifteen years there
were no repairs attempted, and then the church and
the convent were rebuilt on the old walls so as to
conform as nearly as possible to the original plan, except in the roof of the church building. That received a
3

34

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

pitched roof instead of the original arched roof, and a
second story was made within the structure. In its restored condition the church building, which is now
known as the Alamo, has been used mainly as a ware«
house, and the city of San Antonio has also added a
one-story addition on the south side, which is used as a
police station.''
From the earliest colonial times the struggles in
southern Texas were numerous and fierce. It is not to
be wondered at that the Mexicans desired to keep a
tight grip on that rich belt of territory along the east
bank of the Rio Grande. There are some, however,
who believe that Spanish Mexico preferred that Texas
should not be settled, that thus a wilderness might lie
between that land of Catholic superstition and bigotry
and the growing Protestant republic of the north.
Nor is it remarkable that the people in search of homes
under the genial skies of the great South-west should
seek to free this beautiful portion of a continent from
Spanish rule. T h e Texans were determined to be free.
The slave-holders of the Southern States saw in that
region a good outlet for their human chattels. Daring
and adventurous men invaded Texas, then of right belonging to Mexico. T h e standard of revolt was raised,
and Mexican armies soon came to maintain the integrity of their national domain.
Numerous battles
were fought, and they were great in proportion to the
population. Texas revolutionists held the sympathies
of the people of the United States, and in time were
able to throw off the Mexican yoke and stand before the
world as an independent nation recognized by our
government and also by England. But it is with the
fall of the Alamo I have to do as a tourist.
During the early part of this century General Santa
Anna had been extending his conquest all over Mexico.

GATE-WAYS TO T H E L A N D OF THE AZTECS.

3$

Texas alone had held out against his power and in favor
of the republic. This he now determined to conquer.
At the head of a considerable army flushed with victories over internal foes — an army trained to long
service in the field and amply equipped with arms and
munitions of war—he marched into Texas, and at once
proceeded to San Antonio. On the morning of the
2 2d of February, 1836, the people arose to see themselves confronted by this daring chieftain and his army.
Their independence must then have seemed a thing of
the past. Colonel Travis, with one hundred and fortyfive effective mem. at once retired to the Alamo to hold
the place and await re-enforcements or fight to the bitter end. Santa Anna was a brave man and a skillful
'general. H e at once issued his orders and prepared to
capture the Alamo. That lost to the Texans, all would
seem to be lost. During the night of March 5, 1836,
the Mexican army formed in accordance with the orders
given by the general in chief. Thus writes the historian of the times:
" At the first light of dawn on that memorable Sunday morning the Mexican bugles sounded the fatal peal.
With a rush like tigers springing on their prey the
enemy dashed forward, but the heroic Texans, roused
to their last duty by the bugle notes of their requiem,
with the sound of the terrible deqicelo (the Mexican
bugle call for * death, no quarters') ringing in their
ears, every man was at his post, and so well did they do
their duty that twice the hosts of Santa Anna were
hurled back defeated, only to be again forced forward
by the sabers of the Mexican cavalry. This time Santa
Anna himself urged forward his troops. General Castillion's division, after half an hour's desperate fighting,
and after repeated repulses and unheard-of losses, succeeded in effecting an entrance in the upper part of the

$6

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Alamo in a sort of outwork. The fighting had only begun.
The doors and windows of the Alamo Church
were barricaded and guarded by bags of sand heaped
up as high as a man's shoulders, and even on the roof
were rows of sand-bags, behind which the Texans
fought as never men fought before—muzzle to muzzle,
hand to hand. Each Texan rifle shot exhausted its
force and spent itself in successive bodies of Mexicans
packed together like a wall of flesh. Muskets and rifles
were clubbed, and bayonets and bowie-knives never before wrought such fearful carnage.
" The ceaseless crash of fire-arms, the shots of the
beleaguered, desperate, and defiant Texans, and the
shrieks of the dying, made the din infernal and the
scene indescribable in its sublime terrors. Each room in
the building was the scene of a desperate struggle with
fearless men driven to desperation and conscious that
escape was impossible. They fought even when stricken
down, and when dying, still struggled, not with death,
but to slay Mexicans. In the long room, used as a hospital, the sick and wounded fired pistols and rifles from
their pallets. A piece of artillery, supposed to be that
which Crockett had used during the siege, was shotted
with grape and cannister and turned upon the desperate
occupants of this apartment. After the explosion the
Mexicans entered and found the emaciated bodies of
fourteen men, torn and mangled and blackened and
bloody. Forty-two dead Mexicans lay at the door.
Colonel James Bowie, whose name tells of his fearful
knife—the * Bowie-knife,' of which he was the inventor
—lay dead on a cot in this room. H e was helpless
and in bed when the Alamo was invested, twelve days
before, but the bodies of the victims of his unerring aim
and invincible courage attested that his death was not
accomplished without tenfold loss to the enemy.

G A T E - W A Y S TO T H E L A N D OF T H E A Z T E C S .

37

" There are several accounts of the death of Colonel
Travis, one of which is that he was shot in the head by
a rifle ball, but even then had strength enough left to
impale on his sword a Mexican officer who was attempting to mutilate him. Another account, derived from a
Mexican soldier in the army of Santa Anna, is that Colonel Travis and David Crockett were found lying among
the Texan dead, utterly worn out by sleepless nights of
watching and long-continued fighting.
When discovered, Colonel Travis gave a Mexican soldier some
gold, and while conversing with him, General Cos, with
whom Colonel Travis had dealt very generously when
San Antonio was captured by the Americans, appeared.
Cos warmly embraced Travis, and induced other Mexicans, and among them General Castillion, to join with
him in asking Santa Anna to spare Travis's life. Then
David Crockett also wearily arose to his feet from
among the corpses. Santa Anna was terribly enraged
at the disobedience of his orders, saying : ' I want no
prisoners,' and turning to a file of soldiers ordered them
to shoot the heroes. Colonel Travis was first shot in the
back. H e folded his arms stiffly across his breast and
stood erect until a bullet pierced his neck, when he fell
headlong among the dead. David Crockett fell at the
first fire, his body being completely riddled with bullets.
Even a cat, that was soon after seen running through
the fort, was shot, the soldiers exclaiming: ' I t is not a
cat, but an American/ Major Evans was shot while in
the act of applying a torch to the magazine in time to
prevent an explosion/'
One cannot blame the Mexican general for contending bravely to subdue an insurrection or recover a lost
province, but the butchery was horrible and needless.
T h e army of Santa Anna could easily have invested the
Alamo with a cordon of soldiery and compelled its sur-

38

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

render in a short time. The Mexican general must
have delighted in bloodshed.
Senor Filison, the
Mexican historian, who accompanied the army of Santa
Anna, thus concludes his account of the battle of the
Alamo :
" Finally, the place remained in the power of the
Mexicans, and all its defenders wrere killed. It is a
source of deep regret, that, after the excitement of the
combat, many acts of atrocity were allowed, which are
unworthy of the gallantry and resolution with which
this operation was executed, and stamps it with an indelible stain in the annals of history. These acts were
reproved at the time by those who had the sorrow to
witness them, and, subsequently, by the whole army, who
were certainly not animated by such feelings, and who
heard with disgust and horror, as becomes brave and
generous Mexicans, breathing none but noble and lofty
sentiments, of certain facts which I forbear mentioning,
and would wish, for the honor of the republic, had never
taken place.
(i
In our opinion, the blood of our soldiers, as well as
that of the enemy, was shed in vain, for the mere gratification of the inconsiderate, puerile, and guilty vanity
of reconquering Bexar (San Antonio) by force of arms
and through a bloody contest. In fact, as we have
already stated, the defenders of the Alamo wrere disposed to surrender, upon the only condition that their
lives would be spared. Let us even admit that they
were not so disposed—what could the wretches do, being surrounded by five thousand men, without proper
means of resistance, no possibility of retreating, nor any
hope of receiving sufficient re-enforcements to compel
the Mexicans to raise the siege ? "
T h e fall of the Alamo and this terrible slaughter did
not arrest the progress of the Texans. The heroes of

G A T E - W A Y S TO T H E L A N D OF T H E A Z T E C S .

39

the Alamo were put to death, but other defenders of
Texan liberties were raised up. At the battle of San
Jacinto, a few months later, Santa Anna's army was
routed and its commander taken prisoner, and on the
first day of March, 1845, Texas was admitted to the
American Union. The Alamo has been purchased by
the State of Texas from the Catholic Church for $20,000,
and is to be restored, renovated, and preserved as a
monument of stirring events. Aside from the old
Alamo, there are the ruins of five of these old Catholic
" missions " in the neighborhood. The Nuestra Senora
de la Concepcion, built in 1716; San Jose Agnayo in
1720; San Francisco de la Espada, 1716 ; Espiritu
Santo, 1720; Nuestra Seflora del Rosário, 1754; Nuestra Senora del Refugio, 1791.
There are records which tell that the Catholic missionaries began their labors among the Indians of Texas
as early as 1554. T h e royal treasury of Spain contributed millions of dollars toward the spiritual conquest of
these savages, and yet the whole six " m i s s i o n s " never
contained so many as five hundred souls. It was, indeed, a fruitless effort, as even Spanish Catholic writers
themselves testify.
Of course I visited some of these old missions, and
was especially interested in the " Nuestra Senora de la
Concepcion. They are fortress-like stone structures, built
more than a century and a half ago by Spanish gold,
under the direction of the fathers of the " Holy Church,"
designed by Spanish architects, erected by the labors of
the Indians embraced in the mission, but whether enforced or remunerated does not appear. They were
intended for the Christian culture of these same wild
savages, and for their shelter in time of war. There
they stand, landmarks of a former age, decorated stonefronts, which are of the most elaborate workmanship

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THROUGH THE H E A R T OF MEXICO.

and artistic design, wood-carvings in cedar, almost equal
to those in old Chester Cathedral, in England, now
crumbling year by year through the beating of rains
and the charing of winds, broken and splintered by audacious visitors, who carry away fragments as souvenirs,
now moldy, dirty, and forbidding. T h e putrid carcass of a dead cow lay on one of the ground floors.
Nopal cactus plants grow upon the stony roof, and
all, save a single small room, used at present for
prayers by a few native Catholics whose huts are
near, may be called simply a ruin. These old ruins, in
all that is romantically antique, equal those of old
Conway Castle, in North Wales, and Linlithgow, in
Scotland, and remind one of them. Why does not the
State of Texas or the city of San Antonio take measures
to preserve these relics of a former age, that they may
be looked upon a thousand years hence ? If the ground
were cleared of the accumulated rubbish, and fenced in
and shaded with the live oak, the magnolia, and the
China-tree, for instance, and then converted into a public park, with walks and drives, doubtless there is no
place in the whole Southern country which would
present a greater attraction to the tourist than the
neighborhood of San Antonio, Texas.
A number of shops were visited, and I also attended
a lenten service one evening at the old and famous
Church of San Fernando, the church where all resident Mexicans worship. A great many Mexicans are
scattered over Southern Texas.
There is old San Antonio and new San Antonio.
Over a door-way on the main plaza is a stone, bearing
an old Spanish coat of arms, dated 1743. But new
buildings by the score are being erected throughout the
city, replacing the low one-storied houses of the olden
times. Lines of street railways have been extended to

GATE-WAYS TO T H E L A N D OF T H E A Z T E C S .

41

all the principal points. I took several rides on them,
first to the government military head-quarters, where a
few companies of United States troops were stationed.
Every thing here betokened the most perfect army
arrangements. The next place to visit was the San
Pedro springs, a suburb of San Antonio, where water
rises up out of the earth in sufficient quantities to
drive the wheels of several mills.
In the street car from San Pedro springs, in the
evening, I could not help noticing the strangely mixed
company. There were probably twenty persons in the
car drawn by a Spanish mule. T h e proportion between
the size of the car and the diminutive mule would be
very well expressed by harnessing an ordinary sized
sheep to a phaeton. They are very small, but very
strong, and one of them will draw a car packed with
passengers. The mule furnishes the motive power of
the street car, and of all other vehicles of burden everywhere in the South.
A certain noted infidel of our time attempts to free
himself from moral responsibility by charging that he
was not consulted when he was created. In this he is
like the mule. The mule, alas ! if he has any sensibilities, must feel the pangs of the insults heaped upon
him, for every body in the South owns the mule, drives
the mule, whips the mule, and hates the mule ; and every
body makes fun of the mule, the poor mule, and that is
not at all figurative. H e is generally lean, shaggy, lank,
and dirty. H e can't sing, is far from being handsome—
I mean the average mule—and is the subject of every
body's ridicule on account of his long ears. The mule
is never petted by the sentimental young lady, who fairly
kisses the noble horse. Poor fellow! he must drag the
wagon and the street car through the mud, and carry
all the burdens. About the only real recreation or

42

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

amusement he can ever hope to enjoy in all his life is to
kick. Well, let him kick, it is a comfort to him; nature
allows him this privilege, and so long as I like to see
the poor hod-carrier sit down under the lea of a building and enjoy his noon lunch, just so long will I plead for
the posterior liberties of this universal friend of humanity, the mule—only it is always best to keep at a suitable distance, say about four rods, when he indulges
this festive nature of his.
But what a mixture ! There were in this car several
whites of the true Anglo-Saxon blood. Two German
gentlemen talked away vigorously about a new contract
one had just taken, and by which he hoped to make
viel gelt—much
money. Two young Boston girls, I
thought from their speaking of Joseph Cook's last
lecture, sat near me. There were three or four Mexicans, judging from their tan-bark complexion and
straight black hair and black eyes. Then there were
some Negroes, two of whom were very black, others
quite light of complexion. All the world seems to have
sent its representatives to San Antonio.

ACROSS T H E R I O G R A N D E .

43

C H A P T E R IV.
ACROSS T H E RIO

GRANDE.

Rivers — Sand-bars — Uncertainties — " Down in the mouth " —
Boundary line — The Jumping-off place—War clouds — Famous
fields-March of "Old Zach "—Poverty and dirt—Strange sights
—Mistaken fun—Two forests—Long range—Beauty of scenery—
Rocks and railroading—Cooling shadows.

A

W R I T E R , in a popular magazine, speaks of the
" majestic rivers of Mexico/' I fear he was never
in the country about which he writes. When Texas and
all that rich belt of territory forming our southern boundary constituted a portion of the Mexican domain there was
one river that was entitled to the appellation majestic,
known in Spanish as the Rio Bravo del Norte, and to us
as the Rio Grande, or, in simple English, Grand River.*
Mexico is not a land of great rivers because of the
narrow form of the continent.
Large rivers, like the Mississippi and the Amazon,
imply vast interior regions, where great masses of water
may collect.
There are some rivers in Mexico which have their
origin far back in the mountainous regions, from two
hundred to five hundred miles from the sea-coast, as the
Rio de Santiago, the longest river in the country, and
the Rio de las Balzas.
But during the dry season,
which lasts through about three fourths of the year,
many of these rivers disappear almost entirely, others
entirely.
* The Rio Grande has been called the * muddiest,
*
and swiftest " river in America.

crookedest,

44

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

River navigation in Mexico is almost unknown.
Where streams might be navigable for some distance
sand-bars near the mouths are constant barriers, and
there is not enough enterprise among the people to
clear them away.
Mexico has no harbors for shipping. The only one
on her great coast-line is at Acapulco, on the Pacific
coast. When vessels come into Mexican waters they
are compelled to anchor a distance out in the sea, and
then both freight and passengers are swung overboard
to the lighters, often at the peril of life and risk of property, for these southern waters, far from being placid,
are among the roughest in the world. Consequently
freight which is shipped to Mexican ports at certain
seasons cannot be unloaded, and hence must be carried
back and forth for months in succession before an opportunity is presented for its delivery.
Landing in a Mexican port is not the most certain
thing in the world. Genuine national enterprise would
remove the sand-bars from the rivers and create harbors
for the accommodation of those who " do business in
great waters." At the time of this tour the famous Rio
Grande was quite " down in the mouth ;" but in the
rainy season, when it reaches high-water mark, as it
does generally, it is, indeed, El Grande Rio.
At the close of the Mexican war, in 1847, this river
was made a part of the boundary line between the two
nations. T h a t line follows westward from the mouth
of the Rio Grande north-east to the parallel of 3 1 o 47'.
It then continues for one hundred miles to the 111th
meridian, there bending to the north-west as far as
32 o 29' 4 5 " . It runs from this point onward to the
dividing line between Upper and Lower California, at
the bay of San Diego. Mexico has a northern frontier
reaching from the Gulf to the Pacific Ocean, a distance

ACROSS THE R I O G R A N D E .

45

of nearly two thousand miles. My starting-point into
Mexico was from Laredo, on the Texas frontier.
When Mexico ceded, at the cannon's mouth, that
portion of territory to the United States which now
constitutes our great South-west, she lost the exclusive
control of this her principal river.
The Rio Grande now belongs to both nations, the
boundary being the middle of the stream. It was at
Laredo that I passed the last gate-way, and set foot on
Mexican soil.
There are two Laredos. Old Laredo is on the Texan
side, a town of one-story adobe houses, with very narrow
streets. The population is made up of three fourths or
more of Mexicans, the balance being Americans; while
New Laredo, on the opposite side, of the Bravo, is all
Mexican, and shows signs of considerable prosperity.
This whole region was once the scene of stirring events.
The war cloud hung dark over all this border forty years
ago. Mexico assembled her warriors on one bank of
the Rio Grande, the United States marshaled hers on
the other. It was in this section the first battles of that
war, waged against inoffensive Mexico, were fought.
General Taylor's forces landed from New Orleans, at
Corpus Christi, at the mouth of the Nueces River, in
August, 1845; then he removed to Point Isabel, established Fort Brown, on the Texas side of the Rio Grande,
and in due time bombarded and took Matamoras, besides winning the victories of Palo Alto and Resaca de
la Palma, where American troops greatly distinguished
themselves.
The battle of Palo Alto—High Palms—was scarcely
worthy of so dignified a name. It was great only in the fact
that it was the beginning of actual war. From the highcolored description at the time one might conclude that
it was a great trial of national strength and prowess. It

46

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

was fought on May 8, 1846, at which ten of General Taylor's troops were killed and forty-four wounded. The
Mexicans lost one hundred killed and three hundred
wounded. The following day the army of Taylor and
the Mexican forces met at Resaca de la Palma—Ravine of
the Palms—and another battle ensued, when a few more
of his men were killed. The Mexican loss was reported
at five hundred killed and wounded.
After fighting these two somewhat celebrated little
battles on the lower Rio Grande the American commander marched his forces directly upon Monterey, by
way of Mier. The distance from Laredo to Monterey
is a trifle less than two hundred miles via the Mexican
National Railway.
This road may be considered the pioneer in the modern railroad movement in Mexico. Its beginning dates
back to 1872. The Mexican Railroad, from Vera Cruz
to the city of Mexico, the oldest one in the republic,
will be described hereafter. The route by the Mexican
National, beginning at Laredo, is about five hundred
miles shorter than that by the Central via El Paso.
For eighty or ninety miles after leaving the Rio Grande
at Laredo, the landscape is exceedingly monotonous.
Any one mile is a fitting sample of the whole. The
soil is very poor. Evidently in some age of the globe,
and, geologically speaking, not very long ago, this valley
of the Rio Grande was a part of the great gulf into
which the river now pours its waters.
The vegetation is peculiar to a semi-tropical latitude.
The mesquite grows abundantly every-where. It is a
very pretty bright green shrub, a species of the acacia,
which yields a sweet edible pulp, used as food to some
extent by man and beast. The yucca-tree also grows
in this region, the leaves of which furnish a strong fiber,
employed in making coarse cloth and cordage for

ACROSS T H E R I O G R A N D E .

47

shipping. These, with a few varieties of the cactus,
constitute the vegetation one sees in this part of Mexico.
At every station on the railway motley groups of m,en,
women, and children, brown-skinned, black-haired, dirtylooking human beings, sadly in need of fine-tooth combs
and soap, were gathered around in seemingly listless
idleness.
As I gazed upon them it almost seemed as if I had
been transported into a new world. If one should go
up in a balloon, and drift away into space until he came
to a point where " gravitation turns and works the other
way," and should then drop down on some distant
planet, he would not be likely to find himself surrounded
by more unaccustomed scenery or more strangely appearing people than he will meet in crossing the Rio
Grande into Mexico.
As the train moved along and came within a hundred
miles of Monterey I began to get a view of the eastern range of that great system of mountains, the Sierra
Madre.
At first I supposed the black mass banked up in the
western skies indicated a coming rain-storm, and was
glad, for the day was very hot and the air was filled
with dust. Over all this region it had not rained for
many months. But the mistake was soon discovered.
Instead of clouds I was obtaining a first glimpse of the
Sierra Madre, 'Or " Mother Mountains," as the words
import.
As we neared them their altitude seemed to increase
while their jagged slopes and rocky prominences became more and more visible. They seem, as one views
them at long range, to be naked rocks just as the fires
left them when they were first formed. But through a
field-glass I could discern here and there patches of
deep green, having a mossy appearance, which, I was told,

48

THROUGH

THE

HEART

OF MEXICO.

were forests of a species of pine in which there were
trees from sixty to seventy-five feet in height. If the
microscope converts the mold on a piece of stale
cheese into a forest growth, the telescope would in the
same way reveal the genuine forests of these bold
Sierras. Then they seem so near. Yonder I notice,
opposite the town of Lampazos, what they call the Mesa
de los Cartuhanes, which is a terrace rising above the
level plain.
Instead of being five miles away, it is not far from
twrenty-five.
Instead of being three hundred feet
high, is two thousand. Instead of being three or four
miles in length, is twenty. And on the fiat tableland of the Mesa were sixty thousand head of cattle
fattening for the foreign market, as their owner, whom
I chanced to meet, assured me.
The scenery of the Sierras is the great feature of
Mexican travel. Over all the plains you see little else
than white sand, out of which grows the vegetation peculiar to this latitude. But the mountain scenery is
grand. Mountains on the right of you, mountains on
the left of you. Look back, and they tower above you
in dim and distant majesty. Cast your eye ahead, and
they confront you with what seems an impassable
barrier. No pen can accurately portray the beauty of
these mountains. Their color varies with the passing
hours of the day and night, and they are never seen
twice alike. They often present a rosy appearance in
the early morning, and then are blue and brown at
noonday. At sunset they are arrayed in amethystine
robes, and at night tRey don the purple. Sometimes
their tops are lost in clouds which threaten rain, but do
not speedily execute their threats, and then they lie
distinctly visible in clear, bold outlines against the serenest of skies.

ACROSS T H E R I O G R A N D E .

49

If any country in the world has tested the skill of the
civil engineer, Mexico is that land. Over much of the
way between Laredo and Monterey, the ascent is continual, and when the latter city is reached, the traveler
has attained an elevation of nearly two thousand feet
above the level of the sea.
Having reached the first city of any importance, after
leaving the valley of the Rio Grande, weary and
dusty, I sat down in the cool shade of the hotel veranda.
The thermometer during the day had registered not
far from eighty-five degrees.
T h e evening air was
balmy, the skies were cloudless. The moon shed her
silvery light over all, and I thought of the ice-bound
north, the home from which my steps had turned. It
was delightful to be in such a place. But I remembered
that, after all, the greatest wealth, the highest intellectual
and physical vigor, are in the snow belt of the north, and
not in the land which boasts of perpetual summer.
4

5o

THROUGH THE HEART OF MEXICO.

C H A P T E R V.
T H E GEM OF T H E MOUNTAINS.
In summer land—Loitering amid bright scenes and sweet
odors—The plaza and its delights—Beautiful Monterey—Legend of
the miter—A saddle of stone—The ruined palace—Taylor in
Monterey—The city a fortress—The surrender—Magnanimity of
" O l d Rough and Ready"—A visit to the governor—Relics of
blood—Legend of the Virgin—Building a bridge on which to die.

I

T was in the early part of March, on a Saturday evening, and about eight o'clock, when I reached the city
of Monterey—gem of the mountains. I was in summer
land. H a d I been in my own home at that hour, I
should doubtless have retreated from the war of the elements without and sought shelter within doors, but here
it was next to impossible to remain in-doors. The
moon was throwing her soft light over mountain and
valley, the atmosphere came laden with the delicious
perfume of tropical flowers. T h e notes of bewitching,
soothing, and most entrancing music fell on the ear.
Strange sights were before me, and hence I could not
resist the impulse to take a stroll before composing myself to much-needed rest.
i t did not require a long walk to find a plaza. T h e
plaza is the point where all the people in a Mexican
city, of all classes, and tourists as well, naturally congregate. This particular one is called the Plaza de Zaragoza, and is only a few steps from the principal hotels
and city and state buildings.
Why do great rivers always run by large towns ? was
innocently asked by some one. The rivers first, the

T H E G E M OF T H E M O U N T A I N S .

51

towns afterward. In laying out a Mexican city the
first thing thought of was the plaza around which the
city seemed naturally to crystallize. T h e plaza first,
then the city.
In every Mexican city there are generally a number
of these small parks called plazas and alamedas. Some
of them are mere " sand lots," where donkeys can roll
and dogs play. But the Plaza Mayor, or main plaza,
is the fashionable promenade where rich and poor, old
and young, meet and enjoy, on equal footing, the evening air. In Monterey, the Plaza de Zaragoza lies in the
heart of the city. It is not large, but very attractive.
Fine old trees cast a cooling shade during the daytime. A fountain, with spouting dolphins, occupies the
center. This is flanked by two smaller fountains, whose
artistic designs show that a trained hand had part in
their construction. They keep up a perpetual plash.
Paths cross and recross each other in all directions.
T h e whole is surrounded by a wide double promenade
of some kind of cement, which is as white and smooth
as polished marble. It is a weird sort of place, for both
the costumes and the customs of the people are purely
Mexican. The air is almost burdened with the aroma
of orange blossoms, rose, and jasmine.
The conversation you hear is Spanish. The foliage
on the trees is quite dense, and consequently the shadows are dark, save where the moonlight percolates
between the glossy-leaved sprays, and falls, like molten
silver, on the winding pathways.
Are you weary?
There are seats which lure you to rest. Great white
broad-bottomed sofa-shaped benches, made of concrete
as hard as stone, more graceful, too, than the stiff iron
ones we often see at home, with this advantage, that
they can't be whittled away by every loiterer who is rich
enough to own a jack-knife. In nearly all of these

52

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Mexican plazas, military bands play two or three evenings in the week for the entertainment of the people
who crowd the plazas. The effect can only be wholesome, for music is divine.
All classes meet here, the poor and the rich, the refined
and the unrefined. The peon, in his coarse cotton and
zarape; his wife and daughters, in their calico and rebosos; the better-to-do, in their silks and broadcloths.
The inner circle of the plaza, near the band-stand, is
the rendezvous of these common people, who walk and
talk and dance to the quicker strains of the music. The
outer circles are conceded to the upper-tendom, which
moves with slow dignity to the measured strains of cornet and bugle. The scene is, indeed, fascinating, as one
sits and views these men with their wives, young ladies
with their chaperons, and parents with their children.
Ladies, with their male attendants, march in one direction, gentlemen alone move in the opposite, so that they
may meet face to face. Acquaintances at the first
meeting bow their recognition, and then pass on as
strangers through the whole evening. There is no stopping to chat by the way, it is a procession, a gala evening, an hour given to fresh air, music, and life. This
plaza at Monterey was the first one I had visited in
Mexico, and is a fair sample of all the rest, only that
some are larger and more highly embellished than
others, all of which depends upon the size and wealth
of the city or village, and the disposition of the "city
fathers." That night's rest was sweet to me, and when
the Sabbath morning came I was early awakened by the
clatter of numerous church-bells calling the people to
worship. Here is a city where the Church of Rome
holds almost absolute sway. A mere handful of Protestants only may be found in it. Monterey is the capital
of Nuevo Leon—New Leon—the largest of the frontier

T H E G E M OF T H E M O U N T A I N S .

53

States of the Mexican republic. It is not far from eight
hundred miles north of the city of Mexico and two
hundred miles south of the Rio Grande. It was once
the most important place, from a commercial point of
view, in Northern Mexico. Hither came the traders
from Durango, Zacatecas, San Luis Potosi, and far-away
Chihuahua.
Monterey is so called from one of the mountains at
whose foot it nestles. The word means King Mountain.
It is a charming little city, that is, for Mexico. The
highly salubrious climate makes it a sanitarium, especially for lung diseases, besides mineral medicinal
springs bubble up not far from the base of the Saddle
Mountain, which are said to possess remarkable curative
qualities. The city is situated on the Rio de Santa
Catarina—in plain English, St. Catharine's River, and
lies in a rich plain tolerably well supplied with water.
The population of Monterey is about sixteen thousand
souls, though some claim more than twice that number.
Just to the westward, and in plain sight, towers up to
a height of about four thousand feet the great Cerro de
la Mitra, a king among mountains. Its peak bears a
fancied resemblance to a bishop's miter. This the
devout Catholic can see quite plainly, but the vision
of the Protestant is not quite so keen.
I was told that the faithful here have a belief that
within the heart of that Cerro and beneath that miter
are concealed untold riches which, at some time in the
future, the great Father will bring forth and give to his
children.
Alas ! if the poor Mexicans ever expect any kind of
riches, they will not come from beneath a bishop's miter.
The Church for three hundred years has only impoverished the people of Mexico. A view of "the mountain
miter called to mind the " o l d man of the mountains," in

54

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

New' Hampshire, which is a colossal human face, and so
plain as to have attracted the gaze even of the wild
Indian, who founded upon it various superstitions. Yet
when you climb the hill, in the perspective of whose
curves and angles the " old man's " face is formed, lo !
it has vanished,. Distance lends enchantment to this
view. So here, when the tourist ascends the mountain,
the miter has vanished.
Directly to the eastward of the city is the Cerro de la
Silla, or Saddle Mountain, which also rises about four
thousand feet above the plain. The top of the mountain,
as its blue outline lies against the sky, appears as if some
giant with mighty cleaver had cut the rock into the
shape of a saddle. The figure is so plain as to require
neither imagination nor field-glass.
Another object of interest in Monterey is an old and
massive stone building, on the brow of the Obispada
Hill, on the west side, known as the Bishop's Pleasure
Palace. It was planned for a magni-ficent structure, but
is now only a ruin. It has stood there for over a hundred and fifty years. The blocks of stone used in its
construction were carried on the backs of men from the
mountain east of Monterey. It seems almost incredible
that such a task could have been performed in that way,
but when one has seen the burden-bearers of Mexico at
work in mines and along the new railroads, he can easily
believe this, as well as the story told by Prescott, of Cortes having transported his fleet of brigantines over the
mountains to .the waters of Lake Texcuco. The view
of Monterey from this hill is charming, and amply repays the effort put forth in the ascent. As I strolled
about Monterey, I could not help thinking of the difference between that day and the 20th of September, 1846.
Now all is peaceful and quiet and the people are happy.
Then these streets were the arena of contending armies.

T H E G E M OF T H E M O U N T A I N S .

55

General Taylor had marched his army, of about
six thousand six hundred from the banks of the
Rio Grande into the interior, with the city of Mexico
as the objective point. Had he been suitably re-enforced, some believe, though it is doubted by others,
he could ultimately have reached and taken the capital,
via San Louis Potosi, saving both blood and treasure.
This army, whose artillery comprised a dozen teninch mortars, two twenty-four pounder hov/itzers, four
field batteries of four guns each, with brigades of infantry, and regiments of cavalry, flushed with recent
victories, and backed by a powerful government, is the
attacking party. The city is defended by ten thousand Mexicans, indifferently armed, commanded by
General Ampudia, men in whose minds is still fresh
the bitter recollection of defeat at Palo Alto and Resaca
de la Palma, men who must have been conscious of
their inferiority to the foe before them. But their resistance to the invaders through nearly four days of
battle is ample proof of their courage.
Taylor's army fought its way through this city house
by house and block by^block, for every house was an
armed citadel and every man a soldier.
Muskets
flashed from every window and azotea, while shot
and shell were poured forth upon the ranks of the invaders from the heights of Obispada, the Bishop's
Palace having been converted into a citadel of defense.
But brave as the Mexicans were, they were not equal
to our own troops, nor were their arms so good. The
Mexican general imagined that the Bishop's Palace
would be assaulted from the front. He threw up his
breastworks accordingly, and prepared for the assault.
But General Taylor only made a feint in that direction
sending the main army of attack into the rear, thus
capturing the place with comparatively a slight loss.

56

THROUGH THE HEART

OF-MEXICO.

Then planting his guns in front of the palace, he had entire command of Monterey. There was nothing left for
the Mexicans to do but to surrender, and this they did.*
Like General Grant at Appomattox, General Taylor
was a generous conqueror.
The defeated Mexicans
were allowed to retain their arms and accouterments.
The artillery were granted a field battery of six guns
with twenty-one rounds of ammunition. When the troops
evacuated the city, the brave Taylor stipulated that
when the Mexicans struck their colors they might salute
with their own battery.
After the city was captured General Taylor sent a
squad of soldiers to plant the stars and stripes on the
summit of Saddle Mountain.
The difficult task required a number of days in its accomplishment. That
banner floated in the Sierra winds until it was wasted to
shreds. Forty years have passed away since that siege,
all traces of which are gone, save a few old rust-eaten
Mexican cannon spiked by Taylor's men, which lie yet
on the declivity of the Obispada heights.
One of the places of much interest was the state
building, the Capitol of Nuevo Leon. I had the good
fortune to have a note of introduction to Senor Bernandez de la Vega, son of General de la Vega, a brave
Mexican, who was made prisoner at the battle of Resaca
de la Palma by General Taylor's forces. This son
was at that date a pupil in a Boston high school.
H e speaks several languages well.
It was through
him I was introduced to his Excellency, Canuto Garcia,
Governor of the State of Nuevo Leon. The governor
is a lawyer by profession, under forty, very dark
complexioned, about five feet nine inches tall, and a
*At the capture of Monterey, the Americans lost in killed, 126,
including 18 officers ; wounded, 363, including 26 officers. The
Mexicans lost in killed, 500 ; the number of wounded unknown.

T H E G E M OF T H E M O U N T A I N S .

57

thorough gentleman. I talked quite a good deal with
him through Senor la Vega on questions of general interest, and when I arose to go he grasped my hand, in
true Mexican fashion, giving assurance that the call gave
him great pleasure. The governor took me into a room
and showed me what were real curiosities: the beautiful
silk flag of Maximilian, and three of the rifles with
which the emperor and Generals Miramon and Mejia
were shot. It was painful in the presence of those
relics to think of poor deluded Maximilian and the
unfortunate Carlotta. These rifles are kept here as
trophies, because three of the soldiers detailed to assist
in the execution were from Nuevo Leon. T h e flag is a
beautiful double silk banner, in which the colors are red,
white, and green. The whole is richly bordered with
gold lace.
The center on both sides bears the old
Mexican coat of arms, an eagle perched upon a cactus
holding a serpent in its beak, and below are the
words:
"Second Batallon de Linea."

The governor handed me the rifles one by one to examine. One is an Austrian gun, made at Liege. T h e
other two are American, bearing the Harper's Ferry
stamp. On the breeches of the three rifles are silver
plates with inscriptions telling of the executions. T h e
following is an inscription from one of them.
AL
EMPERADOR
FERNANDO MAXIMILIANO
1 BATALLON DE LEON
2 D COMPANIA DE CAZADORES
SARGENTO 2D,
ANGELL PADILLO
JUNIO 19 DE

1867.

58

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Angell Padillo was the soldier who used it in the
execution. It will be remembered that Generals Miramon and Mejia had espoused the cause of the empire
and were executed at the same time and place with
Maximilian. In speaking of this tragedy, the governor
said he always felt sad himself over the fate of Maximilian, but as a lawyer he must say there was absolutely
no other way. Maximilian must be shot. H e also informed me that just before the order was given to fire,
the emperor turned to Miramon and said, " General
I am not worthy to stand in this place, I wish you to
change positions with me." " No," said the brave Miramon, " I am content to stand next to the emperor." On
the 19th of June, 1867, in the city of Queretaro, the
commandant raised his sword and the crack of twelve
rifles rang out, and emperor and generals weltered in
their blood.
Monterey was founded three hundred years ago, and
like all other Mexican cities its history is blended with
the annals of the Roman Catholic Church. The Spanish priests, who came over to convert the Indians, often
laid the first foundations of civilized life in Mexico.
In 1592 Fray Andres de Leon established a mission
on the site of Monterey. The first building here was a
mud hovel. The Aztecs were gathered together and
the nucleus of a city was formed. That primitive hut
still forms, it is said, a part of the Iglesia de San
Francisco, now one of Monterey's fashionable churches.
Every thing here is venerable. It would not be very
difficult to write a book about Monterey, where the
tourist can ascend the rugged heights, or roam about
through the rich plains which engirt it, or climb the
moldy towers of its numerous churches and look down
upon the courts and plazas and narrow streets. But I
must refrain.

T H E G E M OF T H E M O U N T A I N S .

59

Here, as every-where in Mexico, many legends are
told in reference to the founding of churches. I must
relate one in particular, connected with the Church La
Capilla de la Purisima. It runs as follows:
" A b o u t a century and a half ago there came a great
deluge, when for forty days and nights it rained without
intermission.
Great floods, pouring down from the
Sierra Madre, came surging through Santa Catarina,
carrying all before them, and Monterey was in imminent
danger. An Indian woman, who made shoes for a living, possessed a wooden image of the Virgin, and when
the floods were rising in the suburbs she took it to the
water's edge and prayed to it, when, lo ! the torrent immediately receded, and the city was saved ! Then this
poor woman and her humble neighbors erected ajacal
(or hut) upon the spot, called La Casa del Virgen, in
which the precious image was enshrined
Here the
women for miles around were wont to come and pray ;
and by and by a rich lady, dying in Monterey, left a
legacy with which to build a better house of worship.
La Capilla de la Purisima is the result, a handsome little church upon the site of the old jacal.
" So many believing creatures desired to be buried
where the great miracle had been performed, that a
populous grave-yard once occupied the spot; but the
growing city spread out all around it, and in 1858 the
bones were removed. When those now living in the
vicinity have occasion to dig in their door-yards, or the
courts of their houses, it is no uncommon thing, to this
day, to turn up skulls and bones."
Other stories are told which illustrate the current
superstition of the Mexican people.
There is here a
church called El Roble—The Oak—which has been a
great while in building. It derives its name from a
legend connected with one of its small chapels. T h e

6o

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

traveler is shown there an image of the holy Virgin
which is very dark, almost black. Many years ago a
pious monk was in the habit of attending to his private
devotions beneath the spreading branches of a live oak.
One morning this image was found standing in the
heart of the tree, and soon the tidings spread and great
was the desire of the people to pay their devotions to
her. So that it became necessary to erect a chapel and
enshrine her therein. Nevertheless the Virgin preferred
the oak, and no matter how securely the doors were
bolted at night, in the morning she was always found
standing in the tree. One day, during a violent storm,
the lightning shivered the oak, and ever afterward she
was content to remain in the chapel. But in time the
new Iglesia Mayor, or great church, was completed, and
the bishop desired to place this particular Virgin in a
special niche prepared for her. With much ceremony
the transfer was made, amid an adoring crowd.
T h e cathedrals and churches are always opened
at break of day in Mexico, and on the very next
morning after the transfer, when the cathedral was unlocked, lo ! the Virgin was not there. Soon a messenger
was dispatched to the Chapel of the Oak, and there she
was in her chosen place, her sacred garments dusty and
soiled from the night journey through the streets of
Monterey from one sanctuary to another! All these
mythical stories, of which I have many to record, are
believed by Mexicans and related to the traveler, who
offers an affront if he shows any signs of incredulity.
An old American gentleman, who went to Mexico
with Taylor's army, and who so fell in love with the
climate, and especially with a Mexican senorita at the
same time, that he has resided there ever since, accompanied me one afternoon to the Virgin's Bridge, which
spans a small stream running through an obscure portion

T H E G E M OF THE M O U N T A I N S .

6I

of Monterey. The structure has upon it the undisputed
marks of time. Standing there in the shade of a tree,
he said that many years ago a number of Americans
were in prison in the city, who had fallen into the hands
of the Mexicans in some of the frontier raids which had
been quite common. Like all other prisoners, they were
forced to work in the road gangs.
A bridge was needed at this place, but great difficulties were in the way. T h e current was deep and strong.
Adobe would not do, and rocks could only be had in
the somewhat distant mountains. At length the American captives were offered their freedom by the authorities if they would bridge the stream with stone within a
given date. The time allotted for the completion of the
work was limited, and no facilities for such an undertaking were within their reach. But they were spurred
to great exertions by the thought of freedom. They
quarried the stone in the mountain under the eye of a
military guard, and bore them on their bleeding backs
to the spot. Day and night, with sore feet and blistered
hands, they brought the work to completion within a
few hours of the allotted time. The next day they were
to go out free men. Morning came, and, at break of
day, all stiff and exhausted, they were marched out of
the filthy and gloomy prison in which they were locked
at night, two by two, into the middle of the bridge they
had built, when, without a word of explanation or time
to offer a prayer to Heaven, a squad of soldiers fired upon
them, and all fell dead upon the bridge which their own
hands had built.
" Do you see that statue of the Virgin ? " asked my
venerable friend, pointing to the image which stands
upon a pedestal. He continued, " These people never
cross this bridge without crossing themselves and bowing
to the Virgin."

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

C H A P T E R VI.
LAND OF T H E B E A U T I F U L

VIEW.

Hacks and dust—Spiral railways in the vSierras—Old craters—
Mexican houses—A street front in Saltillo—Outside and inside—
Floweis and fountains—Battle-field of Buena Vista—An unequal
contest—Thermopylae of America—Nearly whipped and didn't know
it—Wanderings over the plains—An incident-r-Unwritten history—
"When she says she* will, she will "—Joe Hooker outdone—Soothed
by sweet songs—A remarkable senorita.

O

U R train,pulled away from the depot at Monterey
on a clear, bright afternoon. The depots in Mexico
are generally a mile or two from the towns, either because the right of way could not be secured, or because the
Mexicans do not wish to be disturbed in their repose by
the screeching of locomotive whistles and the rumbling
of car-wheels, or because they expect their cities and
towns to have such an enormous growth at some time in
the great hereafter that they will extend out to them; or,
more likely, it is the result of a conspiracy between the
railroad authorities and street-car and omnibus companies, that they may be partners in subtracting as many
shekels as possible from the innocent tourist.
As a rule, at all events, one must breathe the dusty
air for half an hour, more or less, before he can sit
down in the cool shade of the hotel veranda after a
weary journey by rail. The distance from Monterey to
Saltillo (pronounced Salteyo) is about seventy miles,
and is a very pleasant one. The roadway winds almost
like a spiral? around the spurs of the Sierra Madre.

L A N D OF THE B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

63

The valleys through which the road passes are narrow,
and bounded by steep, rocky ridges and serrated outlines. Wherever vegetation can grow the almost universal mesquite and nopal cactus are seen. All along
the way, especially on the right, are rocky formations
which nearly resemble the Giant's Causeway, in Ireland.
They are circular and semicircular openings in the
mountain sides, from a hundred yards in diameter to
several hundred. The sides of these openings are
columnar, giving them quite an architectural aspect. L
have not seen them described by any writer. They
deepen the impression one gets of the age of fire, when
there were mighty convulsions of nature throughout all
this region. These circular openings were small craters
doubtless, through which the pent-up forces within
found means of escape.
At Monterey the elevation above gulf level is a trifle
below two thousand feet; at Saltillo it is a little more
than five thousand feet, an ascent of about three thousand five hundred feet in seventy miles, or fifty feet
to the mile on the average. But, taking out a few level
plains over which the road passes, it will be seen that
there are ascents which tax the energies even of the
locomotive.
It was just getting dark when the train ran up to the
station at Saltillo, and I was soon seated in a; cochey
ready to be driven, through dense clouds of dust
thrown up by hack wheels, dogs, and donkeys, as we
came from the station, up this street and down that to
the Hotel de San Esteben, the Fifth Avenue of this
Mexican city.
At first I felt quite vexed at the stolid driver, to think
that he should be so forgetful of an opportunity to show
off his city as to take a traveler who was there to see
the very best they had through narrow and obscure

64

T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

streets, instead of conducting him through the principal
avenues. But I learned afterward, by a personal inspection, that I had been driven through the most elegant
thoroughfares of the metropolis of the State of Coa~
huila de Zaragoza. The streets in these old Mexican
cities are very narrow and the buildings small, consequently the population is very compact.
Saltillo has a population of ten or eleven thousand;
some say twice that number; yet when I went up on to
the highest point of land near it which I could reach on
foot, I should have estimated the population at not over
a couple of thousand at most.
I wish now to give the reader a description of Mexican houses in the villages and cities of the interior.
The remark has been made that when you have seen
one Mexican city you have seen them all. That is not
quite true. In some respects there is a sameness, but
there is also a difference in the size as well as in the
quality of the structures, both public and private. A
street front in Saltillo, for example, resembles a mud
wall twenty-five or thirty feet in height, but varying in
places as the builders on their respective lots have determined. They are generally constructed of sun-dried
brick, called adobe. In some places there are more
two-storied buildings than in others. Monterey is a
finer city than Saltillo, because the houses are larger
and better. San Luis Potosi is finer than either of
them, for its buildings are still larger, and of better construction. A row of houses fronting on a main street
looked to me like a simple wall, say thirty-feet high, and
extending along for half a mile, sometimes higher and
sometimes lower.
Into this wall, corniced neatly at the top, are openings
for windows and door-ways. The windows always have
on the street side a sort of iron or wood cage, resting

L A N D OF T H E B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

65

ón a projecting stone base or set, into it. These are
securely fastened to the main wall by iron clasps, and
are never removed. In hot weather, while the doors at
night can be shut and securely bolted, the windows can
remain open, and are proof against intruders of any
kind. You walk along a street in the evening, and the.
children as well as grown people are perched upon the
inside, looking at you through these iron, or in the
case of less expensive residences wooden cages, for I
don't-know what else to call them — which gives the
establishment a prison-like aspect not the most pleasant
to behold. This street front is not uniform in its appearance, for in some places it is painted in bright colors, and ornamented with kaleidoscopic or geometrical
figures, at others it is only tinted, and anon presents
simply the natural appearance of the adobe brick or
cement, according to the taste or purse of the owner or
occupant. But let us enter one of these door-ways in
this apparent wall. Here one is surprised. The interior of a Mexican house far exceeds the promise given
by the outside, which is often very plain, though sometimes it is- finely ornamented.
You enter generally through a high and somewhat
pretentious door-way. Having passed this you are in
an open court, or patio, as it is called, and which is
usually paved. Into this patio open the rooms of the
family. Then in the rear is another and inferior patio,
devoted to the servants and the animals. When the
building is a two-story one a stone stair-way leads to
the upper apartments. These also open into a broad
balcony. It often happens that all the light and air you
get comes in through the windows and doors opening
into the court; the other three sides of the room being
simply solid walls, white and hard and smooth. The
court is roofless, and is frequently decorated with vases
5

66

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

of flowers, playing fountains, and cages of birds. I have
sometimes counted from six to twelve cages in a single
court.
The mocking-bird is a general favorite, especially so with Mexicans. H e is very funny, but a little
selfish, for he preserves a studied quiet during the day,
so as to give himself full liberty to_keep people awake at
night with his ceaseless chatterings. Aiound the court
border will be seen vases and earthen pots of growing
shrubs and flowers, often in great numbers, and containing rare and beautiful varieties. Then comes a wide
corridor, with rows of stone pillars supporting, in the
case of two-storied dwellings, the upper balconies. All
the rooms of the house open into this court, which is
delightfully cool.
These apartments are often most elegantly furnished,
and constitute homes which boast of every modern luxury. This is the old Moorish style of architecture, and
is admirably adapted to a warm climate. The people
generally live in much smaller apartments than in the
United States, and hence a greater population is crowded
together in the same space.
Saltillo is situated at a considerable height, but is
very warm. It is jocularly said here, in reference to
the remarkable healthfulness of the climate, that people
never die in Saltillo. They just live on and on until
they " d r y up " and disappear, and nobody knows where
they go.
The first thing I wanted to do, after getting well settled in my hotel, was to visit the famous battle-field of
Euena Vista (pronounced Wana Veesta), which is about
eight miles from Saltillo. A party was soon made up
for the trip, and we were not long in reaching the historic place.
The name Buena Vista means beautiful, or good view,
and really it is a buena vista. It lies between two spurs

L A N D OF T H E B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

67

of the beautiful Sierras, the valley being, at its widest
point, not over three miles, narrowing down to less than
one mile.
After the fall of Monterey General Taylor's forces
entered and occupied Saltillo without opposition. On
the heights overlooking the city he threw up some
earth-works, remains of which are yet faintly visible.
Knowing that Santa Anna was approaching him
with a large army, General Taylor pushed on a large
force to a village twenty miles beyond Saltillo, called
Agua Nueva, or New Water, on the San Luis Potosi
road.
The American army had been greatly weakened by
the withdrawal of a large portion of its best troops for
the purpose of re-ehforcing the army of General Scott in
the campaign against Vera Cruz.
Agua Nueva was selected by General Taylor, not
as a battle-field, but as a point well supplied with water,
and which would be a suitable spot to drill the new
recruits sent to replace those who had been withdrawn.
But the stay there was short.
On February 21, 1847, scouting parties discovered
that the Mexican army was coming down upon them in
great,numbers, and a battle was imminent. Taylor was
always quick in making choice of a position, and
never made a mistake. He at once decided to fall
back to the pass of La Angostura—the Narrows on the
Saltillo road, at the Hacienda of Buena Vi§ta. The
valley here has a V shape.
General Taylor occupied with his whole force the
apex of the V, where the valley narrows down to a
mere pass, which, on this account, proved a very Thermopylae.
" Early on the morning of February 22, 1847," wrote
an eye-witness, " great clouds of dust were seen rising

68

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

in the air in the direction of Agua Nueva, which told of
the advance of Santa Anna. It was an anxious hour
for the brave Taylor, who, with four thousand five hundred men, must either retreat rapidly to Saltillo, within
his defenses, or meet in battle at least twenty thousand of
the very best troops of Mexico. At four o'clock that day
the long roll of the drum signaled the onset of battle.
Infantry, cavalry, and artillery took positions.
Two
miles away were seen the columns of the enemy advancing in perfect order. The sun gleamed from the
bright lances and bayonets of the Mexicans. Their artillery carriages rattled over the hard road. Their horses
were gayly caparisoned, as is their custom. Their bugle
notes sounded and echoed among the rugged heights of
Buena Vista. Never was an enemy more confident of
victory. Why should not twenty thousand men overwhelm an enemy less than one fourth their number.
General Taylor had the advantage of the best position
on the battle-field, and was on the defensive."
On the left rises a mountain to an altitude of two
thousand feet, some distance up which I clambered. It
seemed marvelous that troops could ascend it, as did
sorae of Taylor's men, making the declivity a sheet of
flame.
The battle of Buena Vista was began by an attempt
on the part of Santa Anna to get possession of this eminence. It was good generalship on the part of the Mexican commander, but the flank movement was a failure.
On the right of Taylor's position were precipitous ravines impassable to either cavalry or artillery.
Notwithstanding Santa Anna's army greatly outnumbered that of Taylor, he was slow to make the
attack. Before advancing to battle he sent a flag of
truce, bearing the following note to the American commander :

L A N D OF T H E B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

69

"You are surrounded by twenty thousand men, and
cannot by any human probability avoid suffering a rout
and being cut to pieces with your troops ; but as you
deserve consideration and particular esteem, I wish to
save you from such a catastrophe, and for that purpose
give you this notice in order that you may surrender at
discretion, under the assurance that you will be treated
with the consideration belonging to the Mexican character; to which end you will be granted an hour's time
to make up your mind, to commence from the moment
when my flag of truce arrives in your camp."
Taylor responded laconically :
" In reply to your note of this date summoning me to
surrender my forces at discretion, I beg leave to say
that I decline acceding to your request."
Again he sent another messenger to ask General
Taylor what he was waiting for. Taylor's cool reply
was:
" I am waiting for General Santa Anna to surrender."
That battle, if not the greatest, was one of the
fiercest ever fought on this continent. The Americans were at times overwhelmed with numbers, but
so determined were they that at the close of the
second day, February 23, 1847, the Mexicans retreated
toward San Luis Potosi, and the Americans were masters
of the field.
Less than five thousand Americans had met and defeated over four times their own number. Taylor's
army numbered four thousand five hundred men, with
less than five hundred regulars; while Santa Anna boasted
that his numbered twenty thousand men. It would have
been no disgrace to Taylor, confronted as he was by such
a numerous foe, had his army been routed ; though
it would have been a reproach upon the government,

yo

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

which had so greatly depleted his forces to stiengthen
the army of General Scott.*
Three times during the last day of that battle, all seemed
lost but honor. The artillery was splendidly handled,
and it was here that General Taylor is said to have
given the characteristic order, " A little more grape,
Captain Bragg," which was followed with terrible destructiveness. It is only just to the Mexicans to,say that
they fought heroically, But they were without spirit.
Their commander says, in his report of the battle, that
his army was composed of men " torn with violence from
their homes," and were both " hungry and poorly clothed/*
When one reads history and learns facts the great
glory of victories is dimmed. There mingles with the
shouts of gladness the pitiful moans of the helpless and
injured. Alas !
I spent half a day wandering about this field of the
" beautiful view," climbing some of the steep places,
and going down into several of those ravines. It called
up the feelings of my boyhood days, when I read in the
papers the thrilling account of the great victory that
General Taylor gained over the Mexicans at Buena Vista.
An incident is said to have occurred at this battle, the
relation of which, without vouching for its absolute truthfulness, may not be out of place here. General Taylor
had been the commander of a military post in Iowa,
at Prairie du Chien, and had under him a young
lieutenant whose name was Davis, a graduate of West
Point. Young Davis fell in love with a daughter of the
then Colonel Taylor, and the colonel was bitterly opposed to the match. But the young folks had made up
their minds to spend the rest of their lives together,
notwithstanding the hostile attitude of paterfamilias,
* At this battle the American loss was 264 killed, 450 wounded,
and 25 missing. Mexican loss, in killed and wounded, 2,000 men.

L A N D OF THE B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

71

You see, " when she says she will, she will, and
when she wont, she wont." This time the young lady
willed. The couple eloped and were married. The
young lieutenant resigned from the army, went to
Mississippi, and took up a plantation. When the
Mexican war broke out, among the men who first offered
their services to the country was Jefferson Davis. Raising a regiment of Mississippians he was mustered into
service, and assigned to duty under General Taylor, his
own father-in-law, to whom he had not spoken since the
day he had refused him the hand of his daughter.
Now for the sequel: At this famous battle of Buena
Vista, Taylor was well-nigh defeated. The Mexican
general is said to have declared, in language not the
most polished, that Taylor " did not know when he was
whipped." General Taylor had even given orders for a
retreat, at least to a stronger position, which Colonel
Davis misunderstood, and advanced with his Mississippians to a new charge, and, lo! the Mexicans were panic
stricken and fled. General Taylor was victor. Then he
sent for Colonel Davis, gave him his hand warmly, and
said that the past must now be forgotten, while he must
confess that his daughter was a better judge of men
than he was. Such is the story as it came into my
mind on the battle-field of Buena Vista.
Not even a vestige of the earth-works remains. Much
has been said about u Joe " Hooker's battle on Lookout
Mountain, Tennessee, in the War of the Rebellion,
spoken of as the " battle above the clouds." The battle
of Buena Vista was fought at a greater altitude—nearly
as high above the level of the sea as the summit of Mt.
Washington in New Hampshire, a region of perpetual
snow. Snow is seldom seen here.
On the Fourth of July, 1884, some Americans in
Saltillo went out and celebrated our national inde-

7?

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

pendence by holding a picnic right where the men of
1847 fought and fell.
That battle was the turningpoint in the Mexican war, and " Jeff" Davis's mistake
made his father-in-law, General Zachary Taylor, President of the United States. The Americans always
vote for the man who wins, and Taylor won.
It was about eight o'clock in the evening when I reached
my hotel, the San Esteben, in Saltillo, and sat down to
write up my notes. The evening was one of the most
beautiful ever seen. T h e dark Sierras lift their frowning summits to the east and to the west.
My door opens into a large court, paved with solid
blocks of stone, and in the center a small fountain
plays. A few vases, out of which grow some tropical
plants, border the court. Some cages, containing mocking-birds, hang around the inner corridor. I was far
from home and friends.
The evening so beautiful,
balmy, serene, invited me to a stroll in this old Aztec
city. But were I to venture out without a guide, what
might become of me? Quien Sabe? I sat down to
write, and was fairly under way, when the sound of a
human voice, unusually sweet, was wafted to me on the
evening air. It was a very melodious voice and of unusual compass and power. I laid down my pen and listened while wave after wave of sound came floating on
the air, as if vieing with the silvery moonlight to touch
my soul into tenderness. " B u t this will not do," I said,
and I picked up my pen, spurred by the recollection of
the old saying, " Business before pleasure," "this writing
must be attended to." Some coy expressions were floating through my brain, like fleecy clouds in the summer
sky, and I tried to woo them. It was all in vain ; the
voice did not. hush, the piano accompaniment was indistinct, the words of the song I could not catch, and if I had
caught them should not have understood them, for they

L A N D OF T H E B E A U T I F U L

VIEW,

73

were in a foreign tongue. There was no use in trying
to write in such a perfect paradise of song, so I folded
my port-folio, walked out into the court, looked up
through the deep foliage, but it did not come down ; I
followed in the direction whence I thought it came, and
was led toward the street. Reaching the arched entrance-way, the/<?;/<? cocherey I discovered that it issued
from an opening in one of those low flat-roofed adobe
houses, directly across from the hotel. I stood there
until the singer ceased to sing, stood there until the
dim light vanished, the curtains were dropped, a r d the
"sweet singer" of Saltillo had gone to rest. I went
back to my room and sat down to muse. " I s she a finer
singer than one ordinarily hears? or is this strange spell
which has come over me due to these mellow surroundings? Is it because I am tender from the recollections
of the past ? or is this a songster of wondrous sweetness,
or what ? " I could not write, but just resigned myself to
night and dreams, made all the sweeter because of that
music. In the morning I said to the clerk of the hotel,
who spoke some English, " Who is the lady who sang
so beautifully across the street last evening ? " He gave
me her name as Senorita
. "Could I hear her
sing this evening?" " O yes, I think so," replied the
clerk. " I will see, and, if possible, make an engagement
for you to hear her."
H e succeeded, and at eight
o'clock we went over; the hotel clerk to be the interpreter and make the formal introduction to a little miss
of Aztec blood, fourteen years old, born of respectable
parents, in the middle walks of life.
The room was furnished in a simple way. It was
clean and neat, and rather above the average of the
common people in Mexico.
There stood an old
piano,, of English make, and only second-class at that.
" Can this plain little maiden sing as she seemed

74

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

to sing last evening? " I said to myself, as she gave me
her hand. The Mexicans are greatly given to handshaking.
The clerk told her I was an " American
traveler," and wished to hear her sing. Now, it was
very remarkable, but true, that she never said a word
about having a "severe cold," or being " o u t of practice," or "not having her music with h e r ; " no, she
never made a single excuse, but sat right down to the
piano and sang and played several pieces, then modestly paused.
I told her, through the interpreter, that I was greatly
delighted, that it was unusually tine, and that I wished
her to continue the pleasure she gave me. Then she
asked me if I ever played. Now I had to be honest
and said I did, but my music was of a very simple character, and would not sound well after such music as she
had given. T h e little rogue insisted and insisted that I
should play something—any thing; but I assured her that
I was " entirely out of practice." Then she wanted to
know if I would sing. Imagine my embarrassment.
I told her I was a basso in a choir long ago, but that
now I made no pretensions in that line. I then flanked
her movements by asking her if she would have the
great kindness to play and sing the Mexican National
Hymn for me, which she did; but when I called for the
" Star Spangled Banner" she gave me a significant look,
saying she did not like it as well as the Mexican. She
evidently had a traditional hatred of the " Yankee."
But turning on the piano stool she iplayed John Brown,
as an instrumental, following it with
"Away down upon the Swanee River."

The words I did not understand, for they were in Spanish, the melody I did, and I really thought she sang it
as I had never heard it sung before. It was the very

L A N D OF THE B E A U T I F U L V I E W .

75

perfection of melody at once powerful and pathetic.
The senorita sings as principal soprano in the parochial
cathedral, a very fine old church on the main plaza.
She is under as good training as her city can furnish,
and seems to be over fourteen, say about sixteen ; but,
then, girls reach maturity earlier in this latitude. If she
were trained by a real master for a couple of years, and
should then go to New York, or Boston, and sing some
evening and be criticised right thoroughly by the reporters in the morning papers, on the second evening
there would not be a hall in either city large enough
to hold the audience.
The senorita turned from the piano, as if to say, " I
have done my best to please the visitor," at which I
arose to take my leave, in true Mexican style, giving her
my hand with a cordial grasp, expressing myself with a
" muchas gracias."

j6

THROUGH

THE HEART

OF M E X I C O .

CHAPTER VII.
AMID

THE

SIERRAS.

Historical r o m a n c e — N e e d e d courage—Mexican severity—Value
of a white neck-tie—A mixed company—Slow, but sure—A Mexican
freight-train—Pounding the mules—Stage-driving a piofession—An
eaily start—Ea V e n t u r a — T h e ranch—Grease and the greasers—
F l e e i n g the fleas—Babel of languages in a coach—Monotony
broken.

P

ROM earliest boyhood I had cherished an ardent
desire to see the land of the Montezumas. This feeling was doubtless stimulated by reading accounts of the
Mexican war which filled the newspapers of the time.
The names of Generals Taylor and Scott were familiar
to all Americans, young and old. The victories of Palo
Alto, Resaca de la Palma, and Buena Vista had thrilled
all hearts. Then in later years Prescott's Conquest of
Mexico was eagerly perused, a work which every body
ought to read and which nobody should fully believe.
It is unsurpassed as a specimen of elegant writing, an
almost matchless piece of word-painting, and at the
same time equally unsurpassed as a historical romance.
One can scarcely believe that the early Spanish chroniclers, who accompanied Cortez and followed in his
tracks, and whose writings furnished Mr. Prescott the
data for his history, did not, in a large degree, draw
upon their imaginations for their facts.
It required no small degree of courage to start off
alone on a five or six hundred mile diligence journey
amid the Sierras. That trip was taken through a region
which has had the reputation for many years of being

A M I D T H E SIERRAS.

77

infested with roving bands of banditti; though, to the
credit of Mexico, let it be known that the supreme
government has determined to rid the country of these
outlaws and cut-throats. Whenever caught they are
shot down without mercy, and sometimes it is said without even the form of trial.
I was strongly urged, by a few friends, not to undertake the stage route, for it has been considered quite
hazardous ; but others insisted that the real danger was
largely imaginary. I never like to retreat from a position once deliberately taken, if it is at all tenable, and
so I " screwed my courage to the sticking place," and
set out from Saltillo for San Luis Potosi—distance well
on toward four hundred miles. This was the first
regular run.
I had met a lady at Hot Springs, Arkansas, who for
many years had been a resident of Mexico, and who
gave me some advice in reference to diligence travel.
One thing was to go plainly dressed, and to keep out of
sight as much as possible costly jewelry and other signs
of wealth. This I at once determined to do, and so
decided, as far as possible, to make myself look like any
other ordinary citizen ! I was dressed in a plain suit
of traveling clothes, and had with me a light overcoat
and shawl. This is a very warm climate in the daytime, but the nights are cool and one needs an extra
wrap. Then I wore a regulation white neck-tie, which
would indicate that I belonged to the clerical order,
and if the bandits should attack the stage, the white
cravat would indicate to them the utter barrenness of
the soil, in a financial point of view. But what shall I
do ? I cannot converse in Spanish, and how shall I
get through for six or seven consecutive days of diligence
travel in the midst of Spanish Aztecs?
There was positively no way left but to take my

78

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

chances, and, like an " illustrious predecessor," the great
Cortez, burn my ships behind me and go forward.
Nulla vestigia retrorsum.
At four of the clock in the
morning, under a clear sky and a bright moon, the coach
rolied out of the patio of the Hotel San Esteben, at
Saltillo, toward San Luis Potosi. There were four of
us in the diligence. One was a dapper little Spaniard,
well-dressed, well-behaved, silent, and, as I subsequently
learned, a perfect gentleman, though he could not speak
English. I observed that under his coat was a leather
belt stuck full of cartridges, while a heavy revolver
rested on his hip.
A Mexican does not regard himself well-dressed without his ammunition box and revolver. Next to him sat
a very large man, with shaggy eyebrows, black mustache,
shod with heavy boots, the tops of which came up to his
knees. On the rear seat of the diligence was another
person of obese proportions, with a very foul breath, and
who, like some people in church, slept most of the time.
Next to the obese man sat a pilgrim, whose defensive
armory was limited. T h e only revolver I carried was
my cranium, where my thoughts revolved. I had a
light silk umbrella, which could be used either to keep
off the rain, or as a sun-shade, or a walking-stick. My
grip-sack contained such articles as a tooth-brush, a
comb, celluloid cuffs and collars—indispensable articles
to a traveler in Mexico—two or three changes of linen, a
little medicine provided for emergencies, some paper
and envelopes, a stylographic pen, and a field-glass.
T h u s armed cap-a-pie, I sped forth on my journey over
roads smooth and roads rough—smooth in spots, but
very rough in more spots.
The modes of transportation in the Republic of Mexico are various. Now you are hurried along in a railway train at a rate of speed not exceeding twenty miles

A M I D T H E SIERRAS.

79

an hour. Owing to the fact that Mexico is a mountainous region, the grades are heavy^and the curves very
sharp, hence the average speed is less than in our own
country. But the railway train in Mexico is swift compared with the stage or diligence. These diligences are
made in Mexico after the" old Concord pattern, and are
drawn by a little drove of mules, on the principle that
"three make a crowd/'
Then if one tires of riding he can walk up the zigzag roads over mountain steeps, or he can ride on the
back of a burro, a species of donkey. This little
animal one meets every-where in Mexico. It is said
to have been imported from the East by the monks two
centuries ago. The burro is a diminutive creature, but
has great strength and powers of endurance. H e eats but
little, lies down to rest or sleep anywhere, is seldom sick,
can carry a weight of twro hundred pounds all day, and
besides is docile and patient. For two hundred years
the burro has been the freight-train of Mexico. H e
can climb up the rocky slopes of the mountains' with
almost as much agility as a goat, laden with wood, charcoal, silver ore, corn, crockery, poultry, men, women, and
children. In short, he carries every thing that needs to
be moved.
I have seen a Mexican burro loaded down
with adobe bricks or stone from the quarry, and with a
good-sized man sitting on behind the load, trudging
along through the sand and heat at a very remarkable
rate of speed for a burro. There are ranches all over
northern Mexico where they are raised by the thousand
for home uses. Mexican industry in times past would
have suffered without the burro. I always liked the little
animals; if they throw you off you wont fall very far, and
besides, one can either ride or walk without the trouble of
dismounting. Stretch out your limbs and you are walking,
draw them up and you are riding—figuratively speaking.

So

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

The railroads have now come into Mexico, and the
burro has a little less to do than formerly. T h e passenger train is also supplanting the old-fashioned diligence.
But for a great many years the diligence system has been
spread over Mexico like a net-work, and travelers,
whether for business or pleasure, have had to patronize
them or stay at home. Great fortunes have been made
by the general diligence companies. In all the principal
cities and villages may be found the Hotel Diligencias.
It used to be and is yet so arranged on some lines that
the traveler could deposit his funds with the company
at the beginning of a journey, and check out from day
to day to meet his traveling expenses, and then at the
end of the route draw7 out any balance that might remain
to his credit. This was one method of putting a check
on the bandits, who never cared to waste time on empty
pockets. The Mexican coaches are exceedingly clumsy.
They are made not to break down, yet they do sometimes, as one did in my case.
A Mexican driver often
whips his mule team into a gallop where the roads are
very uneven and rocky, and then lets them walk where
they are smooth. These mules are arranged in a partic^
ular order. When twelve of them are attached to the
coach, there are two in the rear to act as wheel mules,
and to guide the vehicle—two sets of fours in the middle, and two in front as leaders. T h e mules are exchanged for new relays every dozen miles or thereabout, and one can always tell the character of the
road immediately ahead by the number of animals
harnessed to the coach at the relay station.
Stage-driving in Mexico is a distinct profession, and
he who acquires a knowledge of this business can seldom
settle down to any thing else. On each diligence there
is, first, the main driver, who sits in the boot and handles
the reins. This position is one of considerable dignity.

AMID T H E SIERRAS.

81

H e answers to the engineer of a railway train. Then
he has an assistant who is called the " whipper," a position equal to a fireman on an engine. T h e main driver
uses three different whips : first, a short and stubby
lash, with which to harass the two wheel mules, which
are almost directly under him ; then he has another,
just long enough to reach those in the middle, a whip with
a lash and " c r a c k e r ; " besides he carries a very long
one, with which to reach the leaders away out in front.
I have watched the driver by the hour to see with
what cruel skill he could strike any mule, or any part of
any mule, with his stinging lash.
Now he " draws a b e a d " on a particular ear, and
it seems as if the poor ear must fall to the ground and
drag its owner with it! Anon he cuts into the " fetlock," and the laboring mule will hold up that foot for
a rod or two, and hobble along on three legs. But this
is not all. T h e assistant, the fireman of the train, carries a whip, also, and like a squirrel on a tree runs up and
down the outside of the coach, and whips this mule or that
one, either because the beast, in his judgment, needs it,
or because he thinks somebody or something ought to be
hurt. And then he gathers up a hatful of stones, and,
from his lofty seat, pounds the poor things with them.
H e aims at the shoulder of one, the leg of another, the
ear or the neck of a third, and does it with an accuracy
that can only come of long practice. H e hurls his
bolts with almost the precision of the rifle's aim, if not
with the penetration of the lightning's fire. One thing
is certain, and I know what I say, having deliberated
the matter thoroughly, I would not like to be a mule and
be under the lash of a Mexican driver.
T h e passengers were always awakened at about
three o'clock in the morning, in order to allow ample
time to swallow our " bread and coffee," so as to start
6

82

T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

promptly at four o'clock. Our course, the first day, lay
along the Sierras, in a country the most destitute and
wretched I have yet seen. Look which way one will,
nothing comes into view but barren rock and glaring sand.
If a tree appears in sight, it is a species of palm, seemingly from ten to twenty feet high. Several varieties of
cactus are seen, which will be described farther on. Once
in a dozen miles we pass a few huts, in which the lowest
class of Mexicans stay, for it cannot be called living. I
found myself saying to myself, again and again, for Í could
not say it to those about me, " What is there here to live
for? " The day's drive ends at about four to five o'clock
in the afternoon, when the diligence reaches its appointed
destination. Our first day brought us to La Ventura, on
the hacienda of General Trevino, where we were five
thousand eight hundred and fifty feet above the placid
waters of the Rio Grande. General Trevino, is reported
to be very wealthy. This hacienda, or farm, is large. It
is possibly thirty miles long, and fifteen to twenty wide,
for it reaches across the valley between the ranges of
the Sierras, and we traveled through it nearly half a
day. It is not a farm, for very little of it is tilled, but
rather a roving ground for stock, and in that lies the
general's income. A fair Mexican horse can be bought
here for four to five dollars, so that if a man raises three
thousand horses a year, and they cost in the raising almost nothing, the income must be very large. Besides
these there are cattle and sheep and burros by thousands all over some of these immense ranches. The Hotel Diligencias, on General Trevino's ranch, is any thing
but a comfortable place to stay. My room was on the
ground floor, which is made of cement. The springs on
my bed seemed to be made of two-inch plank, judging
from the utter absence of elasticity.
Our supper consisted of tortillas, which are a species

A M I D T H E SIERRAS.

83

of cakes made of pounded corn and water. Butter is
unheard of; the coffee was thick and black. The meat
is always fried in grease of some kind, and flavored with
extract of onions and garlic. General Trevino is a very
popular man in Mexico, and is a standing and promising candidate for the presidency, but he can't keep a
hotel, or else I am no judge. It is due to the general
to state, however, that he does not wait in person upon
the guests. His clerks and peons do all the work. But
when he becomes president I can call upon him at the
Mexican White House, and claim acquaintance on the
score of having once been nearly devoured by the fleas
which swarm in the Hotel de la Trevino, at La Ventura.
At four o'clock in the morning we fled from the fleas
we knew to others that we knew not of, and continued
our journey toward Cedral. Our course lay mostly along
a wide valley, with the frowning mountains on either
hand. I was greatly pleased with the appearance of
things at certain points along this road, and especially
with my stop at the Hacienda del Salado, which is said
to be partly in four different States. These ranches
often cover such great areas that they may, indeed, reach
into several States. This is one of the largest and best
in Mexico. Among its stock are eight or nine thousand
head of horses, and five thousand head of cattle. By
the time the stage had reached the Hacienda del Salado
the members of our company had become tolerably well
acquainted with each other. It had not changed very
much since the start from Saltillo. The big man, with
heavy boots, shaggy eyebrows, and revolver, was a Hungarian, and had resided for many years in Mexico. He
spoke German, Spanish, and a little English. The silent
little Spaniard spoke French as well as his native
tongue. A Welsh gentleman, who had come in away
back in the mountains, spoke his own language, some

84

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Spanish, and good English. T h e obese sleeper had left
us. I could speak English after a fashion, and German
after a poorer fashion. But here, in this group of travelers, were spoken Spanish, French, German, Welsh, and
English.
These pistols they carry don't mean any thing. The
story is told of a man in Texas who said to his wife :
" Come, Kate, get me my pistol; I am going to prayermeeting." The poorer class can't afford pistols, and
hence carry knives. But, somehow, a Mexican likes to
go armed, whether he uses his arms or not. Our passengers, with all their pistols and belts, were gentlemanly, and I would not be afraid to make the circuit of
the globe with them.
Through the whole day we journeyed along the great
plain, flanked on either side by the mountain ranges.
Every-where the same almost unendurable dust and
heat, the same poverty-stricken country, the same palm
or Yucca trees, the same varieties of cactus, the same
mud huts, and the same half-naked peons greeted us.
Only one sight broke on. my vision to relieve the monotony during the day, and that was but a momentary attraction. Over the plain, at a distance of a mile or
two, I noticed a moving cloud of dust which seemed to
hug the tops cf the cactus bushes, and, wondering
what caused it, I turned my glass in that direction, and
saw, what is quite common here, a flock of antelopes,
a species of gazelle, which swept round us within rifle
shot, for they are exceedingly fleet of foot. They were
about the size of sheep, but very trim and pretty. T h e
little creatures wander over these interior regions in
search of water, and, as they sped by us, I thought of
what the Psalmist David had said of them long ago,
" As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth
my soul after thee, O God."

H U T L I F E AMONG T H E A Z T E C S .

CHAPTER

35

VIII.

H U T L I F E AMONG T H E

AZTECS.

Crosses by the way-side—Old Spanish claims—Adobe huts—
Peonage—Prince and beggar—Building a house—Back to first principles—Tortilla making—A yard of beefsteak—Water carriers—A
new discoveiy—Beautiful Salado—The school-master abroad—Hungiy—Lulling music—Change in temperature.

O

U R diligence had been rumbling along through the
forenoon amid clouds of dust, with almost as little
to interest the traveler as a journey through the Desert
of Sahara. It was very apparent that I was in a land
where the Roman Catholic Church had full sway, for
crosses were to be seen every-where.
Often they stood by the way-side as memento mort,
made of wood or stone, and were intended to designate
places where persons had met death by violence of some
kind, either by the hand of man or by .accident. Then
I observed, also, that stacks of straw or grain in the
fields were frequently surmounted by this sacred symbol ; whether to charm away the lightning, or to indicate
the mortgage the Church has on the property of Mexico,
I do not pretend to know, but there were the crosses.
Any one who has not seen this region of the globe can
form no accurate idea of the habits and condition of the
common people of the interior of our sister republic.
At each stoppage for exchange of mules the passengers
are allowed half an hour to stretch their limbs and rest
from the jolting of the coach. These stoppages, by day
and night, gave ine a fine opportunity to see the natives

86

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

in their rude and simple habitations on the table-lands
of the interior. It is a region of haciendas, or great
landed estates, which date back to old Spanish times,
when Mexico was ruled by the viceroys, and these estates were granted by royal charter to men who, in sojaie
office, served the kings of Spain. They are often very
large, their boundaries being somewhat indefinite, and
in die original grants were to extend, for instance, as far
in a certain direction as a good horse could travel in a
given number of hours, or to continue in a specified
course to the most rapid portion of a particular stream
of water. As a result of such indefmiteness there have
been many litigations in modern Mexican courts over
boundary questions. In some places along the route
these boundaries have now been legally adjusted, and
great, solid stone walls, two or three feet thick, and four
or five feet high, have been constructed, sometimes extending from the valleys to the very crest of the mountains. At some point on a hacienda there is a cluster of
adobe huts called jacals (pronounced hackles), where
dwell the men and women who do the work on the
ranche, or hacienda. I was in probably twoscore of
these rude structures between Saltillo and Lagos.
These people are the peons of Mexico. Thev belong
mostly to the aboriginal tribes, and are held in a kind of
semi-slavery. A peon is not a legal serf. He is free
to go when and where he pleases. But he is always, as
a rule, in debt to the owner of the land, the haciendado,
and so long as the debt remains uncanceled he is in
bonds to his master. If he removes to some other part
of the republic he can be followed by his creditor, who
may garnishee one third of his wages until the debt is
discharged.
The highest price paid a peon laborer is
thirty-seven and a half cents per day. H e may have a
wife and family to provide for, but his wages remain

HUT

L I F E AMONG T H E A Z T E C S .

87

the same. Then there is always a store at the headquarters of the hacienda, where are kept the necessaries
of life, such as cotton cloth, coffee, sugar, corn, etc. If
the peon uses them, he is forced to make his purchases
from his employer at one or two hundred per cent,
above the original cost-price of the articles; so that
debt is inevitable and the owner of the land virtually gets
the labor necessary to the care of his stocks free, while
he holds the laborer in bonds almost as severe as that
which held the Negro on the plantations of the South iii
the old days of slavery. They are a hard-worked
people, and it is not strange that they wander about,
vainly hoping to better their condition. The owners
of these immense ranches are generally wealthy and
usually reside in the principal cities of Mexico, if not in
New York, London, or Paris. - No wonder they are rich
when they have inherited the land they control, pay not
a dollar of tax on it, and in addition get their labor
virtually free. If Mexico could have one more revolution, which would break up these vast landed estates
and place them where they could be divided into small
farms for the common people, it would advance the
civilization of the country. T h e ownership of real estate is always a stimulus to a people, and besides it
would fill up the treasury of Mexico and place her on a
better financial footing. There is very little emigration
to Mexico, which must always be a drawback to her prosperity. The country is favored with a climate which
admits of out-of-door work all the year through, and
though many of the uplands are barren, other sections
are fertile. The great North-west of the United States
attracts people from Europe by tens of thousands,
simply because land is cheap and abundant and the
emigrant can own the soil he cultivates. The land in
Mexico is owned in large tracts by a few people. I

88

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

have seen the statement, that fifty thousand people, or
six thousand families, own Mexico to-day, so that this
monopoly of the soil is largely the cause of the backward
state of the country. The Roman Catholic Church at
one time owned almost two thirds of all Mexico, and
church property could not be taxed. I suppose this to
be the origin of their land system. On the other hand,
every thing produced or grown for the market is subject to taxation. This is the way they " grind the faces
of the poor " in Mexico.
But now, what about the mode of life among these
peons? They are clad not only in the cheapest of
fabrics, but the dress is scanty enough. Their houses
are the merest huts. Sometimes they are built of adobe
and are well roofed. But in thousands of instances
along the course of the journey they are made by piling
up a few stones in a square or semicircle ; then driving into the ground a few stakes and covering them over
with straw, or the broad leaves of the maguey plant, and
the house is completed. A gentleman wished to hire a
peon to do some work for him on the following day.
The man said he could not come, for he had some work
to do for himself.
" Can't you come in the afternoon ? " he inquired.
" Yes," said the peon, " I can."
" Why not in the forenoon ? "
" Because," said he, " I must build a house to live in
during the forenoon."
Surely that was a sufficient plea. I saw many cases
where men, with their wives and several children, lived
in just such huts, where there were neither bed, chair,
table, nor dish, at least none that any one could see,
and surely there was no such thing as a cupboard in
which to store the crockery. At night these people lie
down on the ground, with at most only a piece of ma-

H U T L I F E AMONG T H E AZTECS.

89

nilla cloth between them and the earth, their covering
consisting of some greasy blankets. They sit on the
ground, or on stones, or blocks of wood. The food,
such as it is, is cooked on an earthen platter, called a
comal, over a pot of charcoal, which is the universal fuel,
and is carried to the mouth either with rudely made
wooden forks and spoons, or with the fingers. It would
tax the imagination to draw a picture of human degradation that would exceed the facts as they appear on
the table-lands of Mexico, among the people who live
in these rude jacals.
Their food is cheap. Everywhere they seem to live almost entirely on the tortilla, a
species of corn cake.
Making tortillas is the hard
work of these poor women. The corn is cracked with
a stone rolling-pin on a slab of stone inclining at
a certain angle. The housewife, on her knees, in the
door of the hut, spends many hours of each day in pulverizing the corn and rolling it into the right consistency for tortillas, and then, after patting them into cakes,
baking them on a comaL
They are exceedingly difficult to masticate and have but little taste, but are not
lacking in nourishing properties.
The tortilla is eaten with chile sauce. The latter is
made from the pods of the piru-tree, a species of red
pepper which grows in the tropics. When taken into
the mouth this sauce is suggestive of fire and brimstone.
If they have meat, in which they indulge occasionally,
it is usually fried in fat, and seasoned with onions
and garlic. Beefsteak in Mexico is not sold by the
pound, but by the yard. They have a way of cutting
it into ropes, which can be hung up in the sun and
dried without spoiling, owing, I suppose, to the great
amount of ozone in the atmosphere. It seems odd to
see street peddlers carrying trays of fresh meat on
their heads in the sun, with the thermometer up in the

ço

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

nineties; but one gets accustomed to almost any thing.
When a Mexican slaughters an animal of any description, he obeys for once a certain scriptural injunction,
and " gathers up the fragments, that nothing be lost."
These hut-dwellers I am describing are most devout
Catholics. The hut may be destitute of all furniture,
dishless, bedless, chairless, and cheerless; but it will
not be without its cross and candle, and image or picture of the Virgin. These table-lands are quite destitute of water. It had not rained there for eight months
at the time of my visit. Hence it is a region of droughts.
Pools of stagnant water are seen here and there, and
great basins have been excavated out of the earth in
some localities, which fill up in the rainy season and
last through the dry, for the use of both man and beast.
Women are the universal water-carriers in the country. I have seen them all along this journey, in twos
and threes, going to or coming in from some distant
pool, spring, or well, bearing on their shoulders large
water-pots, shaped precisely like those used in Bible
lands and times, and borne on their shoulders or head in
the very same way. Doubtless many a Jacob has
met his Rachel at the well in Mexico. History repeats
itself.
These days of travel were made all the more uncomfortable on account of the dust. T o breathe at times
was almost impossible.
I was fortunate enough to
find an old empty bottle at one of our stopping-places,
which I filled with water, and saturating my handkerchief occasionally, held it to my mouth and thus strained
out the dust. My fellow-passengers looked upon it as
a very wonderful discovery.
A sudden change had come over the spirit of my
dreams as our diligence came whirling into El Salado,
out of a region quite void of vegetation save only a few

H U T L I F E AMONG T H E A Z T E C S .

91

clusters of huisachi, mesquite, and a species of palm,
called the Spanish dagger. T o my eyes the Hacienda
del Salado was like an oasis in a desert. I gazed around
in mute astonishment.
Had I gotten suddenly out of
Mexico? N ò ! for yonder are the Sierras. It was
a pleasant place to rest a day. Every thing was
bright and pretty.
The streets were clean and the
houses neat.
I looked about me and could not
discover a cross on any building, and so I concluded
that the owner of El Salado could not be in much sympathy with the predominant religion of Mexico. My
surmises were true. This estate is one of the largest
and finest in all Mexico, and the owner is one of the
richest men in the republic. His straw and haystacks
and buildings are not covered with crosses, but he has
a fine school-house, and supports, at his own expense, a
first-class teacher, who instructs the children and youth
of his employees in the common branches of study. I
found there such educational equipments as outline
maps, terrestrial globes, blackboards, geometrical* forms,
etc. The school at the hour of my visit was orderly
and quiet and the pupils were bright and interesting.
This gentleman is well-known in Mexico. H e denounces Romanism, and thinks that if that system of
superstitious belief represents Christianity, the world
can get along without it. But, like thousands of other
thoughtful men in this country, he believes in the
morals of the New Testament and in the liberal education of the masses. Such men are called infidels by
the priests, and from the stand-point of Romanism they
are such, but from a more liberal point of view they are
subjects of pity rather than blame.
They are too
logical to live in their native land.
I turne t d away from El Salado with a feeling that,
after all, there were some green spots in what was

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

almost a desert. After about thirty miles of journeying
we came to Cedral, all covered with dust and quite
overcome with heat. I was thirsty, but was cautioned
not to drink the blue limestone water, on grounds of
health, and hence must wait for coffee. No matter how
hungry and thirsty the traveler may be, he must endure
it until about seven in the evening before he can procure
any refreshments. These hotel keepers are not willing to
change an old custom. The coach arrives at about five
o'clock, and the cook and porter sit around waiting for
night before any thing is done toward making the
traveler comfortable. Thus our coach came rushing
into Cedral, awakening boys and dogs. I was shown
to a room in the Hotel Diligencias, which was a deci*
dedly cheerless place. At seven o'clock I sat down,
with my fellow-passengers, to devour another dish of
frijoles, to masticate more tortillas, and to be made half
ill with the same onions and garlic, and then in time to
be roused from my slumbers at three o'clock in the
morning to pursue the journey.
Soon after retiring to my quarters, and just as sleep
was settling down on weary eyelids, I was aroused by
the strains of a small band on the plaza, almost directly
in front of the hotel. Though not so intended, I complacently assumed that the serenade was for me, and laid
awake for an hour or two drinking it in. In an attempt
to analyze the sounds, they seemed to come from a
cornet, two or three flutes, a clarionet or two, and a harp
or guitar. There were no clashing cymbals to deafen
the ear, no huge base-drums to drown with sonorous
thuds the delicate notes of flute and guitar.
Such
music as that on the plaza at Cedral, under the clear
skies and in this soft tropical air, would not answer
in a military camp the evening before a .battle. It
would make the soldiers homesick. But it was delight-

KUT

L I F E AMONG T H E AZTECS.

93

fully soothing to a tired traveler, and under the spell
of harmony I fell asleep.
In this tropical latitude the days are very warm, the
thermometer rising into the nineties at times.
The
evenings are balmy; but in the morning the air is
uncomfortably cool.
The usual signal for starting was given at four o'clock,
and we went forth under the blue heavens and the bright
stars. The breakfast always consists of bread and coffee,
which must suffice till noon. A good hearty meal after
the American style would be a help to the traveler, but
he is summoned to his pany cafe-—only a few minutes
before starting, so that if one wishes to take a second
cup and a little more bread, the tramp of the mules and
the sound of the driver's horn prevent it. They only
provide a single cup of coffee and one nodule of bread.
The bill you pay at one of these " hotels " includes a
supper of frijoles, some tortillas, fried meat, onions,
garlic, chile sauce, dead flies, bed as soft as a flagstone, coifee and bread in the morning—all for two
dollars. Cheap as dirt—and dirt it is, generally.

94

THROUGH THE HEART

OF M E X I C O .

C H A P T E R IX.
VILLAGE L I F E ON T H E

TABLE-LANDS.

Almost left—Shaking out scorpions—A scare at day-break—Fourteen robbers—Stealing silver—Embodied ghosts—Strange noise—
Escuela Parroquia—Religious duties relaxed—Liberalism—A scene
in the sanctuary—Kissing the floor—Educated versus uneducated
—Two millstones—Revolutions.

I

F there is any one thing which tries the patience of a
traveler in the interior of Mexico it is the village
hotel. The one at Cedral, where sweet strains lulled
me to sleep, compares favorably with those of its class
generally; but that is not saying much for it. They are
usually so wretched, that to remain in one over night
is a matter of dread, especially if you are accustomed to
English or American hotels. There are some places of
ten thousand inhabitants in Mexico, I was informed,
where no hotel of any kind, good, bad, or indifferent,
exists, because such towns are off the main lines of
travel. Those in villages are of two classes: first, such
as are designed for tourists, which are always under the
control of the general diligence companies; and others,
called mesones and posadas, kept by any body who pleases,
intended for live stock as well as persons. In this they
are like Noah's ark, they take in animals as well as
human beings—dogs, donkeys, pigs, cats, and fowl come
in and go out of some of them at will.
I overslept myself at Cedral; at least the first sound
that stirred me from my dreams was the rattling of the
chains and other noises incident to harnessing up the

VILLAGE L I F E ON THE T A B L E - L A N D S .

95

mules in the patio adjacent to my sleeping apartment.
There was barely time enough to get my bread and coffee
before starting. The only thing I had to do in making
my toilet was to put on my shoes and hat; for it must
be borne in mind that while it is very warm during the
day-time, the temperature rising to seventy-five or
eighty degrees, at night it grows quite cold. The bed
covering is scant and often not very clean. Certain vermin, too, infest the premises, and, at some seasons of the
year, become so numerous that travelers inclose themselves in rubber sacks as a protection. Thus I justified
myself in doing what might be considered a gross violation of the proprieties of life.
It is always well for a traveler in Mexico to shake out
his shoes before inserting his feet, as it would not be
a pleasant sensation to find one's self compressing under
the sole of his foot a live scorpion or tarantula. 1 was
told that scorpions abound on these uplands, though I
saw none. They multiply with marvelous rapidity. A
scorpion will become a grandparent in a day or two.
They hide in the crevices of the wall and in the openings in the cement floor of your room. If a piece of
manilla cloth graces the floor of your apartment, under
its folds may lie concealed a nest of these poisonous
vermin. Therefore it is well for the traveler to do with
his garments as he does with a bottle of medicine,
" shake well before taking." The scorpion does not
cut into the flesh with his teeth, but stings with his tail,
and when tortured, it is said, they will actually sting
themselves to death. They are greatly feared in these
parts by young and old. When one of these venomous
creatures injects its poison into the flesh, especially that
of a child, convulsions ensue, accompanied with foaming
at the mouth and with other signs which indicate the
near approach of death. A Mexican, when stung, resorts

96

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

to the use of powerful stimulants to counteract the virus.
Neither scorpion, tarantula, or centipede ever gave me
any trouble.
From Cedral to Metahuala (Metawala) the distance is
only a dozen or so miles. It was reached just a little after
day-break. We were now in the neighborhood of Catorce,
a place of over ten thousand inhabitants, and a region
proverbial for two things : its extensive silver mines—
some of which are the richest in the republic—and its
name. Catorce means fourteen. T h e place was so
named from a band of fourteen robbers, who for many
years infested these mountain regions, making this their
head-quarters. After leaving Cedral, and when we were
fairly under way, at a distance of about two miles, and before it was light, there came dashing up after us a man on
horseback shouting with a stentorian voice to the driver
\o halt. We were in the neighborhood of Catorce—that
place of former robber renown. The situation was
alarming. At length the driver halted and a parley
ensued, which increased our anxiety. I feared the parley
might be only a sort of ruse, designed to hold the diligence
until the other members of the bandit crowd came up.
Soon the coach made a circuit over the broad plain, and
back we went to Cedral again, the driver having forgotten
to call for a couple of passengers who had booked themselves for this particular coach. It was only a scare.
We soon reached Metahuala, a small city containing a
number of haciendas de beneficios, as these silver smelting works are called. The roads in the early morning
were lined with peons of every description, on foot and
on donkeys, coming in from their huts in the outskirts to
labor in the silver works. The peons handle the wealth,
but do not own any of it. When they leave the premises in the evening they are all searched by an officer
appointed for the purpose, that not a single grain of the

V I L L A G E L I F E ON T H E T A B L E - L A N D S .

97

precious metal may be surreptitiously carried away. One
of these poor fellows, however, notwithstanding the vigilance of the officer, succeeded for a time in purloining
it in a very adroit manner. H e had constructed for
himself a pair of sandals with double soles, between
which he somehow managed to secret small fragments of
silver each day, and, without exciting the suspicion of
his employers, accumulated quite an amount. H e was
detected, however, and imprisoned for a period double
the length of time it would have taken him to earn the
amount stolen. Even in Mexico " the way of the
transgressor is hard."
Thousands of these poor Mexicans of the lower order
are driven to crime through the oppressions to which
they have been so long subjected. T h e meager pay, the
natural demands of life, the moral darkness which surrounds and envelops them, palliate but do not excuse
theft and robbery. Their condition should excite the
pity and help of mankind.
Evening brought us to Charcas, a typical Mexican
village in the Sierras. As the drive during the day was
an easy one, we came in quite early, so that ample time
was given for seeing the sights—and a Mexican village
nas some sights worth seeing. The diligence was driven
into Charcas amid a cloud of dust, and after a few
turns, first to the right, then to the left, we passed
through the arched entrance-way—the porte Cochêre—
under heavy stone vaulting into the court-yard, about
which the meson was built.
Around the court ran an arcade, with flag-stone pavement. I was soon in my ciiarto, or room, where, notwithstanding the heat without, it was delightfully cool.
As these rooms receive their light mostly from the
roofless court, it seemed almost like twilight, which
was a pleasing change from the monotonous glare
1

98

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

of the sun on the white sand during the day. To sit
there for an hour would have been a delight, but time
was too precious to be allowed to pass unimproved in
this wild, romantic region, which I shall probably never
see again. The furniture of my room were relics of a
former generation. The human beings around me, in
their dress, manners, and customs, resembled more the
embodied ghosts of a long-gone past, than the people of
this advanced age of the world. The tourist is not
obliged to stop always at the Hotel Diligencia, though
it is a little more convenient in the morning at starting time, besides you are not so liable to be left. There
was another hotel m Charcas to which some of the passengers went. But generally in a Mexican village, no
matter at which one you do stop, you always regret that
you had not gone to the other. These villages on the
table-lands are like the eddies in a river, where the waters
go round and round ceaselessly, while the great mad
current sweeps ever onward toward the sea.
The contact ot these people with the outer world is
so slight that they are not changed by it. Gazing at
them one is carried back even beyond the times of the
old Spanish kings and queens.
We are pointed by
some historians to the glorious past of Mexico, but now
we see only degeneracy, lack of ambition, and want of
education, other than that which is included in the
dogmas of a despotic Church.
The first thing which attracted my attention at
Charcas was a singular kind of noise I heard. I could
not divine what caused it, but, prompted by curiosity, I at once set out to ascertain. A block or two
brought me to an old stone building, which had a fortress-like appearance. These buildings are suggestive
of their history. They seem in many places to have
been built as much for defense against revolutionists as

VILLAGE L I F E ON THE T A B L E - L A N D S .

99

for security against rain and sun. I noticed that the
doors of this edifice were of heavy plank, so that they
could be fastened with ponderous bolts. The windows
were guarded with heavy iron bars, through which a
violent mob would fi.nd it difficult to penetrate. This
particular building was a school-room, a place to impress the heart and train the mind of childhood.
It was as somber as a prison. Without ceremony I
walked into the street door-way, which was standing
wide open, and at once found myself in a long dismal corridor opening into a room whence came the
strange noises that had attracted my attention.
As
I reached the end of the hall-way next to the room a,
lady met me, evidently startled at my boldness, for which
I apologized as well as I could. Surmising my purpose,
she gave me to understand that it was the Escuela Parroquia, the parochial school. There were in that room,
which was comparatively small and very dingy, not less
than two hundred pupils, ranging in age from six to sixteen. They sat in rows, on high benches without backs
with their feet, in the case of the smaller ones, dangling
in the air. Each had a book, held with both hands directly before the face. It was study-hour, and every
child in the school-conned the lesson aloud. Being in
Spanish, I could not tell what it was they were vociferating, whether grammar, geography, or the catechism; most
likely the latter.
Some had voices peculiarly shrill,
others quite subdued. The noise was like the chattering of a great many blackbirds in a tree. Tenor, treble,
alto, and bass voices blended"in the strange medley.
They all swayed back and forth in rhythmic measure to
the very unmusical sounds. Two male teachers, young
men preparing for the priesthood, I imagined from their
appearance, were in charge. They walked up and down
the room, with small sticks in their hands, keeping a

ioo

T H R O U G H T H E HEA*RT OF M E X I C O .

strict watch on every child, and when any one became
weary or'indolent and slackened up the voice, that child
had a head to be hit. These poor little creatures were
bright-looking in the main, and deserved a far better fate
than to be driven through a book of some kind, like donkeys through a mesquite grove. Not a map, globe,
blackboard, or flower was there to grace the room, such
as I saw at Salado. Only the hideous pictures of some
seedy old saints hung on the time-stained walls, to add, if
possible, a deeper gloom to the exceedingly gloomy place.
Poor children! thought I, as I bowed myself out with a
gracias to the teachers. How strangely this contrasts
with the graded schools of our own beloved land! No
wonder the priest-ridden people of Mexico are ignorant
and superstitious. In the interior villages, owing to their
isolation, the priest has far more influence and power
than in the larger cities. It would be a blessing to all
Mexico if the power of the priesthood were entirely
broken, as it will be finally; for nothing lives which God
has ordained to die% and it must be this rank weed will
ultimately perish, though, like all other weeds which infest the soil, it taxes the patience of the world, greatly
hindering true progress wherever it takes root.
Mexico has been nearly crushed by this monster.
In the villages and small towns the curates have been
absolute tyrants, fleecing their flocks to the utmost extent without remorse of conscience. And so, when the
government decreed that the payment of tithes should
be voluntary, a majority of the people in some sections
refused to respond to the demands of the Church. With
those decrees came a decline in the influence of the
clergy. Religious duties wTere relaxed on the part of
many, mass was attended only on Sundays and fast
days by the male population, and then more through
habit and ostentation than from any real spirit of devo-

VILLAGE L I F E ON THE T A B L E - L A N D S .

IOI

tion, while the confessional was avoided almost entirely,
except by the women.
The separation of Church and State, under republican
rule, grew out of the power of the clergy over the bodies
and souls of the people. In this revolution they lost
their prestige in a large degree; but their wealth was
great, and right well was it used in fomenting the different factions that for many decades had desolated the
country.
In time the liberal government felt itself
strong enough to sequestrate the property of the Church
for the uses of the State. The effect of this measure on
the part of the government was to separate many of the
clergy, either on scruples of conscience or love of
money, and in just so far curtail the influence of the
Romish hierarchy. The combination of the priests with
the French invaders in 1863 had much to do with increasing the strength of liberalism.
To-day, beneath the surface of the best and most intelligent society in the larger cities, there is a marked
indifference to the papal Church, but in the rural districts it holds on its ancient way.
After visiting the school at Charcas, and partaking of
my evening repast, I went to the principal church. It
was in the dusk of the evening. There was no special
service, but about forty persons were there on their
knees in various parts of the sacred building, many of
whom were repeating audibly their devotions, making
almost as much noise as did the pupils in the school.
There were old women and young women, rich women
in black silk' mantillas, and poor women in plain blue
and gray rebozos; there were a few men and boys
mingling in the worshipful company; some had open
books, out of which they seemed to read their Ave
Marias; others were mumbling something as they
counted their beads. All were on their knees upon the

io2

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

sandy floor. There are wooden floors in a few Mexican
churches, though some one writes to the contrary.
They are not so common as stone and cement. These
women would kiss the floor with their bare lips again
and again over which the crowd had walked with
sandaled and unsandaled feet. No one could question
their sincerity or help pitying their ignorance and
degradation.
The life these people live is doubtless
fully up to their capacity of appreciation.
It must be remembered that the education of human
tastes and the multiplication of human wants keep pace
with the increase of popular intelligence. But we must
make a distinction between a want and a necessity.
The necessity measures the minimum of life's demands.
The study of how to reach that minimum is the sure
pathway of descent toward barbarism.
Mere necessity contracts the soul and dwarfs the
powers of the mind. On the other hand, the wants of
mankind measure the maximum of life's demand, so that
if the study of the minimum tends to dwarf us, the study
of the maximum tends to develop and enlarge us. It
requires far more to clothe, feed, and shelter a people
who are educated than it does one who are not; for cultivated people have wants which come with their development, spontaneously. These wants are never indigenous in a soil which has not been stirred by educational forces. Furthermore it is true that many of the
wants in cultivated life are artificial. The mere utilitarian philosopher will argue against expensive pictures,
elegant carpeting, richly bound books, fine pianos,
costly bric-a-brac, etc.
But nevertheless they come
with civilization as the flowers come with summer sunshine, and he might as well argue against the flowers of
summer as to argue against the flowers of society.
Education may be an expensive luxury, but without it

V I L L A G E L I F E ON T H E T A B L E - L A N D S .

103

we should drift rapidly back to savage life, and, like our
Anglo-Saxon ancestors, dwell in caves and clothe ourselves in the skins of wild animals. Education increases
the wants of mankind, but, at the same time, it augments
the ability of men to produce. There is no power on
earth quite equal to brain power.
Here, in this interior region of the Republic of Mexico, the Church of Rome has held the people with hooks
of steel to mere forms and ceremonies. Churches, convents, and monasteries have been numerous, schools few.
The result is, the people have but few wants for themselves, while their earnings have gone to enrich the
Church. Their necks for three centuries have been
under this galling yoke. Between the civil exactions
of Spanish rulers on the one hand, and the spiritual
demands of the Church of Rome on the other—one representing the upper and the other the nether millstone
—the poor Aztec people have been ground almost to
powder.
Mexico was conquered by Spanish arms at a time
when the authority of Rome was supreme in Spain ;
consequently that form of religious tyranny came to be
supreme among the Aztecs. The fruits most congenial
to Rome have every-where and always been ignorance,
degradation, and slavish submission. Women were
taught to be entirely satisfied with their own ignorance,
and to be controlled by the priesthood. These ecclesiastics regarded themselves as the disposers of the people from the cradle to the grave, and even in the world
to come. Still there are some who actually realize
the condition of Mexican society. They are revolutionists, or reformers, a class in advance of the common
horde. There will always be upheavals in Mexico until
the people who live in intellectual and moral darkness
are educated to an understanding of their civil and

io4

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T QF M E X I C O .

religious rights. Mexico has not advanced as far as old
Spain itself in some things. But advance it must and
will, though it be through revolutions and blood, until
it takes its place in the procession of the nations.
" For ever the right comes uppermost,
And ever will justice win."

T H E E Y E OF T H E SIERRAS,

IOS

C H A P T E R X.
T H E EYE OF T H E

SIERRAS.

Hacienda life—Picturesqueness—From cellar to garret—Isolation
—Source of wealth—A forest of cacti—Fantastic forms—Designs of
nature—Vegetable reservoirs—San Luis Potosi—A cheering voice—
Acres of flat roofs—The Sunday market—At the point of the bayonet
—In a box—The rescue—The army—Ambitious generals—A bath
amid blossoms.

m

H E region between Charcas and San Luis Potosi
belongs to one of the great table-land systems of
Mexico. The distance is a little less than one hundred
miles, the road running almost directly southward.
T h e elevation above sea-level is over six thousand
feet. The days are hot; the nights, especially toward
morning, cool. The great attenuation of the atmosphere
affects the breathing, especially of those unaccustomed
to it. The highway traversed by our coach was as
smooth as one could expect in such a region. These
table-lands are not like a western prairie, but are, in the
main, rolling, with scattered patches of quite level country inclosed by lofty mountain spurs.
This is a land of haciendas. A hacienda seemed to me
to be the lonesomest place conceivable. They are very
much alike in general characteristics, though variable in
size, ranging from a few hundreds to many thousands
of acres. On every one we passed there was a central
point, where stood at least one stone or adobe fortresslike building, with h a s t e n e d outer walls, corner towers,
and barricaded windows, strong enough to withstand the
attack of a revolutionary army.

io6

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

One of these vast estates is usually under the management of a principal agent. The owner, who may
reside far away, seldom sees his property, though he receives any profit which may remain after the agents,
clerks, and peon laborers have pocketed their share. A
hacienda is a little world by itself. The community is
regulated by its own social laws and customs ; has its
own church and priest; gets up its own amusements, and
pursues its own way undisturbed by any contact with
the great outside woild. The main building, occupied
by the administrator of the estate and his subordinate
officers, is generally rudely furnished with wood benches,
iron bedsteads—put up when needed—pine chairs, and
deal tables. The walls of the buildings are white within
and without, and seen from a distance, from some eminence, surrounded as they are by a number of smaller
houses occupied by the peons, present a picturesque and
very beautiful appearance—the white walls contrasting
markedly with the deep green of the tropical foliage,
especially in well-watered places. This little " city " has
its store, shop, church, and indispensable plaza. Leather
checks are given to the peon laborers, which represent
money, and are exchanged at the store for the necessaries of life. His isolation compels the peon to make all
purchases there at whatever price may be demanded.
On some of these estates, like that of Salado, the proprietor resides and superintends the work in person. In
some such instances great magnificence is displayed.
The family mansion is the scene of culture and gayety.
The children are educated abroad, especially in Madrid
or Paris. Flowers, birds, music, and riding lend their
charms to this grade of hacienda life.
In all these vast ranches, however, there is a feeling
of solitude realized, more possibly by the tourist than by
the resident. There is a vastness of desolation which

T H E E Y E OF T H E SIERRAS.

107

is inexpressible. One feels as (hough he had traveled
quite beyond the bounds of civilization, or had wandered into some other world. To leap out of our own
country into this table-land region of Mexico is like
going out of an elegant parlor into a garret, where the
dust of generations has accumulated, and every object is
festooned with cobwebs. The monotony of this interior
life is seldom disturbed by any event of sufficient importance to stir the pulse to quicker beat. The coach
passes by with rumble of wheel, rattle of hoof, and crack
of whip. A few passengers possibly alight, stretch their
limbs, and hand a few centavos to the beggars, young
and old, who throng around, and then are off again.
Ere the dust raised by the diligence has settled down
the former stillness reigns.
I quote from a recent
writer:
" Most of the lonesome hacendados have few books,
no daily mails or newspapers, and no amusements, except such as they can create for themselves. Hence a
visitor is hailed as a boon from heaven, and kept as long
as he or she can be prevailed upon to remain. In
former times — in fact, in days not altogether passed
away in some portions of the country—there were no
inns, and persons traveling from place to place with
their retinue of armed attendants—as was necessary for
personal safety — were fain to depend upon the hospitality of the haciendas for nightly stopping places.
And so generally was this expected that the proprietors,
quite as a matter of course, set apart a generous sum
in the provision for annual expenditures for their administradors to use in the entertainment of chance
guests—rich or poor, friends or strangers, and whether
or not they came with letters of recommendation. But
when a troop of friends invade some lonely hacienda for
a visitation—then great is the rejoicing! Not only is

io8

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

the fatted calf figuratively slaughtered, but the finest
bull the estate affords is sacrificed upon the altar of
hospitality, in the form of a bull-fight, for the amusement
of any who may care to witness. The great court-yard,
in the center of the square of buildings, is transformed
into a temporary plaza de toros, professional matadors
and picadores are sent for, and word goes to all the outlying ranches that a free show is about to transpire. At
the appointed hour a crowd is certain to appear, even
in the most isolated sections, where one had supposed
no human being dwelt outside of the hacienda; and with
the graceful hospitality which is the heritage of this
easy-going race from their Moorish progenitors, all are
welcome to come in and make merry with the lords of
the land."
But little farming is done, in the American sense, on
these vast ranches. They are not suited to the growth
of cereals save in a few places here and there. The
chief business is stock-raising. Cattle are grazing over
the plains, flocks of sheep are clinging to the hill
slopes, and droves of mules and burros are congregated
about the ponds of stagnant water. These constitute
the wealth of the lordly hacendado.
I could not help thinking as we rode along of the
diminutive specimens of cactus one sees in the dooryards and green-houses in the United States. They
were called up by the laws of association, just as a
very large man reminds you of a small one.
The
cactus plant in Mexico is not cultivated for ornamental purposes; it is very useful.
The mullein is
treated by us in this country as a weed, neither useful
nor ornamental, but rather indicative of a poor soil,
while in England they cultivate it in their gardens, and
call it " The American Velvet Plant," esteeming it a
"thing of beauty."

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109

Cacti grow here to perfection. Look in which direction
you may, you see some variety of this species of vegetation. There are several hundred varieties known to
the botanist. This is their native climate. They seem
to thrive in a dry and arid region. In one place they
stand before you great thick fleshy-stemmed "shrubs,
single-branched in one instance, and double in another. Notwithstanding the dryness of the earth on the
table-lands and the apparent absence of moisture from
the atmosphere, these plants are soft and juicy, insomuch that the roving herds of cattle break them down
with their horns and chew them as a means of quenching thirst. This is certainly a provision of nature to
meet a want of animal life. They live through long
droughts and are natural reservoirs.
The great variation in their form exceeds the imagination. The most majestic and beautiful of all the
species is the so-called organ cactus, a purely tropical
growth. It rises to a height of twenty-five or more feet,
resembling not a little the seven branched candle-sticks
of Moses, or the pipes of a great organ, whence its
common name. Another kind resembles cannon balls
lying loose on the earth. They are globular and are
called the melon cactus. Here they stretch along the
ground in a snake-like appearance, and there spread out
into a fan-like shape, resembling a magnified rabbit's ear.
This is the form of the universal nopal, which grows from
a few inches to several feet in height, in leaf-like articulations covered with sharp spines. The later variety,
sometimes called the prickly-pear, produces the tunay
or Indian fig, which, if not " beautiful to the eye " is
" good for food ; " besides, it is used by the natives in
preparing a species of strong drink, and in furnishing
from its parasitic insect the coccus cacte, a bright dye for
their fabrics. Certain species take on the tree form,

no

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

attaining often a height of fifty feet. These wonderful
vegetable productions are of all forms, flat, ribbed, and
cylindrical. The cactus is of use to the people, but not of
so much importance as some other things. The maguey
is the most useful of all the species, and is cultivated by
the Mexicans systematically. It holds about the same
relation to the Mexicans that wheat does to us, or the
family of palms to the Hindus. But of this more hereafter.
These peculiar plants put forth vigorous life
through a portion of the year and then rest. Nature
has constructed them to live not only in a dry and
sandy region, *but to resist, by their tough and impervious
skin, the heat of the tropical sun. I have seen them
growing out of what seemed to be naked lava rocks in
the volcanic districts, their roots penetrating the crevices of the lava-bed and disintegrating it. In this case
they are the forerunners of other and more useful productions. It is difficult to see how the people could
live on these uplands without lhe cactus. Their flowers
are very rich in color, and those of some of the better
species are very fragrant, but all are very short-lived.
Some burst out in the night-time, and when morning
comes are gone. It seems marvelous that such pulpy,
thorny, ill-shaped plants should produce flowers so
lovely in color and fruit so delicate to the taste as the
tuna. But such is the provision of the Author of nature.
I could not help thinking, in passing through the land
of the Aztecs, where palms shoot up great white blossoms which rise above their tops in tall and graceful
plumes, and cactus flowers present the brightest of
colors to the eye of man, that in like manner God can
cause to grow out of this barren human soil a people
who shall be his delight and who may reflect his glory
in the land of their ancestors.
Nearly one hundred miles over hills and through val-

T H E E Y E OF T H E SIERRAS.

H I

leys, amid heat and dust, not a little weary with the long
jaunt, brought me to San Luis Potosi, the " Eye of the
Sierras," possibly never so-called before.
I was very glad when we came in sight of the city. It
was a very tedious journey from Charcas to San Luis,
but one which affbided considerable variety to the eye,
if not to the palate.
Such a trip is one not soon to be forgotten. We came
into San Luis, as they call it for short, with a rush.
These drivers always leave the stations in a whirl, urging
their teams forward at full speed, and keeping it up until
they are well out of town. I noticed that usually, as we
drew near our stopping place, Jehu would slow up, in
order that the mules might have a breathing spell, then
he would come through the village or dash into the city
on a gallop, so as to make the innocent people think we
had been thundering along at that rate of speed all day.
When our diligence landed us in San Luis Potosi it was
in the dusk of the evening, and in front of the Hotel
Diligencia. As I stepped out upon the sidewalk, amid
a group of hotel runners, I heard one voice which, in
true American fashion, said, in plain English, " The
San Fernando is the best hotel." That was just what
I was anxious to hear—that is, the language—for all the
rest spoke Spanish. Of course the San Fernando was
selected, not because it was the best hotel; though it
was very good, but for the reason that the colored runner, formally a slave in old Virginia, could be of service
to me by his ability to converse in both languages. A
single night's rest and a good bath completely rejuvenated me. I was as fresh as when I started from
home.
I shall not soon forget San Luis Potosi and the impression made upon the mind as I gazed over the acres
of flat roofs—Azoteas—and beheld before me the Spanish

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

Renaissance cathedral, whose matin bells had roused me
from ray slumbers. I was looking out of a window in
the upper story of the hotel upon antique houses built
along exceedingly narrow streets, which were well paved
and tolerably clean. It was Sabbath morning, and the
thoroughfares and plazas were bustling with excitement.
The day was beautiful, and in these Southern lands there
is a gayety about life which is peculiarly fascinating.
Under my window marched a band of musicians arrayed
in flashy uniforms, followed by a crowd of youth who
danced along the pavements to the strains of the music,
while mahogany colored duennas and senoritas, from the
door-steps and windows across the way, gossiped and
flirted with the opposite sex.
San Luis was an improvement upon the Mexican
cities which I had seen. It has a population of about
thirty-five thousand souls, and lies at an elevation of over
six thousand feet above the level of the sea. T h e city
is regularly laid out. It is the capital of a State of
the same name. There is here a larger proportion
of two-story buildings than in either Monterey or
Saltillo.
The city extends over a considerable area,
and boasts of a number of plazas. In our approach to
it,'during the last two-hours' drive, we passed through
a very rich section of country. All it needs to convert
it into a garden-spot is Yankee enterprise and more
water.
A gentleman of high standing informed me that the
thermometer never reaches the freezing-point in San
Luis Potosi, nor is it ever excessively warm. In all
these cities the places of most interest are the cathedrals, the principal parochial churches, and the plazas;
and they are numerous. On Saturday, as we drew near
San Luis, say within thirty miles, I noticed great numbers of poor peons wending their way toward the city

T H E E Y E OF THE SIERRAS.

113

to spend the Sabbath.
Burros by the score, driven
by their masters, were bearing their burdens toward the
markets of San Luis. They were freighted with jugs
and skins filled with pulque, bundles of wood, hay,
straw, pottery, onions, and many other things I cannot describe. Sunday is the great day, in Mexico,
for marketing, praying, and bull and cock fighting. I
went and looked upon the motley crowd of men, women,
and children squatting in the market-places on pieces
of old oil-cloth or skins of animals, having before them
little piles of potatoes, onions, tomatoes, meat, etc.,
for sale. A man and his wife will travel from five to
thirty miles through heat and dust with produce not
worth over two dollars, sell it if possible, remain over
the Sabbath, sleep on the ground in any corner, go
to mass in one of the churches, attend the cock or
bull fight in the afternoon, if there be one, then go
home, and, I suppose, think they have had a good
time !
San Luis now contains a number of ruins; that is, old
churches and convents sequestered by the government,
and now used for State purposes and for various mechanical industries. The city is poorly lighted with candles
and petroleum. It has good water. Some of the buildings
are of lofty proportions. Many of them are painted on
the outside in bright colors, after the Mexican style. It
is a costombre de la pais, as they say—the custom of the
country. These colors are quite durable and pretty.
The main plaza is ornamented with a bronze statue of
the patriot Hidalgo, one of Mexico's illustrious sons.
Street-car lines are in operation as a result of American
enterprise. Telephones are in use, though the electric
light had not yet been introduced. Several regiments of
Mexican troops were stationed here. One morning, as
I was prowling around sight-seeing, I heard the sound
8

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

of a bugle, and thought correctly that I might have an
opportunity to witness a military parade, and, accordingly, followed in the direction whence the notes of the
bugle came, until I found myself directly in front of the
soldiers' barracks, and very innocently walked into the
archway, and was rapidly pushing on toward the Plaza
de Armas, when a couple of soldiers raised their muskets
and called out sharply, " Alto! " I altoed. Just then
the officer of the day, who had gone aside from his post
to converse with some one, perceived the dilemma I was
in and came to my aid. I told him, in a mixture of
English and Spanish, compounded of three parts of the
former to one of the latter, that I was an American
tourist and was out sight-seeing, that I wished, if permission could be allowed, to witness some military evolutions. He was very polite, gave me his hand cordially,
and, in a commanding voice, said to the guard, " Paseo ! "
I paseoed, and remained there half an hour, entirely satisfied with the exceedingly ill-looking fellows and the
horrid stench of the place. I don't know but these
soldiers, according to the Mexican code militaire, might
have shot me on the spot, not for " hauling down the
American flag," but for running up the American impertinence.
Government troops are met at all prominent points in
the republic. As a people, they are fond of soldiering.
Indeed, ever since the day of her independence Mexico has cultivated a military spirit, which has consumed
her very vitals. She needs the plow and the loom far
more than the sword. The resources of the country
have largely been squandered on the army, and the army,
through its ambitious generals, has been the real government. The blessings of ,peace have been despised,
while the citizens, instead of contending for the common
weal, have been divided into factions led on to blood

T H E E Y E OF T H E SIERRAS.

115

and disturbing revolutions by rival chieftains. Revolution has succeded revolution rapidly, one aspiring chieftain supplanting another, so that in' fifty-six years they
have had fifty-five presidents, one regency, and one emperor. Civilians have rarely been placed at the head
of affairs, which shows plainly that the people have but
little voice in politics. The reins of government have
almost invariably been committed to hands that wield
the sword.
The history of the country is a record of military
insurrections and usurpations, in not one of which an
oppressed people, as a whole, have struck for their
" Altars and their fires, •
God and their native land,"

but in which some ambitious general has tried to rise by
crushing some one else. Even when invaded by a foreign
foe, military factions and rival generals have paralyzed
the power of the nation and rendered her an easy prey.
A Mexican gentleman told me that at the battle of
Buena Vista the real cause of their defeat was this sort
of rivalry. They hindered rather than helped each
other on the field of battle. Through all the past,
records bear witness to the fact that popular military
leaders have been the chief disturbers of Mexican
republicanism.
When General Santa Anna returned from exile, at the
beginning of the war between this country and Mexico, in
1846, and again took the leadership over all his rivals in
military and civil affairs, the city of San Luis Potosi was
the point where he concentrated his great'army, with
which he expected to overwhelm the forces of General
Taylor, and when defeated he marched back upon it
again with the remnant of that army. This city is very
pretty, and has many fine buildings, private as well as

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

public. Its public baths are equal to those of any
country. It is a healthful region, and when the railway
reaches this point from Tampico, on the Gulf, it will become a resort for pleasure seekers, as well as a sanitarium
for invalids. Who has not heard of the famous bands of
music of which this old Aztec country boasts ? I thought
the accounts had been exaggerated, but, after hearing one
of their very best, I concluded otherwise. I sat for two
hours one evening on the main plaza listening to one of
these military bands. It was formed in a circle in front of
one of the state buildings, and numbered thirty-six pieces,
including various horns, flutes, clarionets, etc.
The
horns were burnished silver. I failed to understand
how there could be a finer band of music. If every
thing one sees here were as good as the music, then
Mexico would be a paradise indeed.

T H E H A U N T S OF THE BANDITTI.

CHAPTER
THE HAUNTS OF T H E

117

XI.
BANDITTI.

Distance in the mountains—Roadways toward the skies—The age
of ice—Primeval ocean—A good acquaintance—A hard customer—
High places of Baal—City of seven hills—Beggars—Conscience
and cash—Children the hope of Mexico—A pen portrait—Robberies
—Dress that is cheap—An Aztec bath-house—Crockery and cooking
—Fiie-water—The husband and weaver—The christening.

M

Y rest in San Luis Potosi was one of much
delight. It lingers in the recollection—even
now, like a beautiful dream. The fine old churches,
the plazas, the music, the clear skies, and the salubrious
air of the table-lands have left only pleasant memories.
It was at six o'clock instead of four o'clock in the
morning when I took my seat in the diligence, along
with a number of passengers, all of whom were strangers
to me, and began to climb the Sierras. We cross them
now, on our way toward the capital, in a zigzag course,
bearing a little to the south-west. The road in some
places is exceedingly rough, and in others as fine as a
roadway can be. This is an old highway, which has
been cut out of the mountain side throughout most of
its extent. In some of the steeper portions, as we near
the summit, where we are eight or nine thousand feet
above the level of the sea, the lower side of the road
is walled up by solid masonry from fifty to a hundred
or more feet.
One must guess at distances here with the possibility
of being greatly mistaken, underrating rather than overrating always. The road-bed is forty feet wide, and in

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

many places is as smooth almost as a Nicholson pavement. The Sierras are a continuation of the Cordillera of South America, taking the name of Sierra
Madre in Mexico. Their trend is north-westerly from
the isthmus of Tehuantepec. In the southern part of
Mexico their elevation is moderate, but as they extend
northward begin to rise up grandly, until they attain
a mean altitude of about nine thousand feet, while
Popocatepetl, Iztaccihuatl, and Orizaba push their
summits skyward nearly twenty thousand feet, according to recent estimates. The former is the culminating
point of North America. I had crossed the eastern
range, which includes in its valleys the cities of Monterey, Saltillo, and San Luis Potosi. It must have required no small degree of engineering skill to construct
this highway. Up, up we go, around this curve and
around that, still on and up, until we exclaim, " Will the
end never c o m e ? "
We look back, and mountains
which seemed high as we crossed them, or moved
around them in spirals, now resemble mere hillocks below us. Far in the distance and far below us, set like
an emerald in its mountain fastness, lies quietly and
beautifully San Luis Potosi, the " Eye of the Sierras,"
which seems at this distance about the size of a Mexican village. Not a tree is visible on these heights, for
nothing grows on the rocks save a few dwarfed specimens
of the universal nopal cactus. This is a region interesting to the geologist. The rocks show us that old mythical Pluto once held sway here. They are metamorphic
in character.
Here are granite, gneiss, clay-slate,
basalt, trachyte, and porphyritic feldspar. The region
is volcanic, though no volcanoes exist at present. I
was impressed, also, with the fact that, subsequent to
the great upheavel of the Sierra Madre chain, the wraters
covered this part of the globe. When we were at the

T H E H A U N T S OF THE B A N D I T T I .

119

greatest elevation, I saw acres and acres of water-washed
bowlders covering the slopes near the summits. They
lie in vast masses, and also single bowlders, ranging in
weight from a few pounds, as round as cannon-balls,
and looking not unlike them, up to those weighing
several tons. The lower summits are far more angular
and castellated than the upper. The latter are rounded
off, and made more dome-like in their contour. They
were " sand-papered " off some by the ice-floes. All
this seems to show that this was once the bottom of a
sea. The higher elevations were near the surface of
that sea, and may have projected even above it. The
signs are that they were washed by the waters and worn
by the chafing ice of that epoch. Over the lofty summits the tides of a primeval ocean ebbed and flowed,
and vast sea-monsters sported in the waters that once
concealed these precipitous heights. But, then, to use a
common Mexican expression—quien sabe ? Having
reached the summit, we did not descend on the other
side, for the reason that here begins the central tableland, which has a mean altitude of between seven thousand and eight thousand feet. We have climbed to a
greater height now than before reaching San Luis Potosi.
Our first stop for the night was at Ojuelos (Owhalos), a
lofty but lonely place to stay. Two armed guards went
with the diligence, for the route has always been famous
for its brigands. They each carried breech-loading rifles
and revolvers. The passengers were six in all. The
men wore the usual belt of cartridges and hip pistol.
The two ladies and I were unarmed. We had one
gentleman in our company, a native Mexican from the
city of Leon. He was a civil engineer by profession, and
could speak English tolerably well, which with my trifle
of Spanish enabled us to get along very comfortably.
As soon as he spoke to me in my own tongue in the

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

diligence I felt quite at home. I recognized him at
once as a cultured gentleman, and such he proved to be.
At the hotel at Ojuelos, the landlord assigned me to a
room along with one of the guards who had accompanied the diligence, an exceedingly rough-looking fellow,
against which proceeding I protested stoutly, assuring
the keeper of the house that I would not occupy the
same apartment with an armed stranger, even if he were
a guard. At once the gentleman from Leon was quartered with me. Hotel rooms here are generally furnished with two and sometimes four single beds. No
sooner had the diligence driven through the arched
gate-way than half a dozen beggars beset us. Here in
the mountains Romanism has been supreme and unmolested for ages, so that crosses and beggars are very
numerous. Mountainous legions are well adapted to
the religion of Rome.
Romanism thrives well on the high table-lands and
amid the mountains.
Count Gallitzin retired from
Maryland lowlands to a rocky portion of the Alleghany
Mountains, in Pennsylvania, to found his Catholic
colony. The early settlers of St. Mary's chose a lofty
and almost inaccessible spot, passing by the rich bottom
lands east and west of them.
Among the rugged Alps, near Modana, stands a chapel
on the top of a rock, which is not only visited by the
common people, but occasionally by those of noble and
even royal birth On the top of Mount Cenis, the highest of the Alps that can well be reached, is a chapel
in which religious worship is conducted every August,
even at the risk of life on account of tempests.
It
might be deemed unjust by some to trace a connection
between the customs of tire Roman hierarchy and paganism, but on seeing the hill chapels in Mexico, they bring
to mind the high places of Baal in the far East. T h e

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121

heathen believe that their gods love to dwell in high
places. That same opinion prevails to-day in both the
Greek and Latin Churches. No one can visit Cholula
and Guadalupe, in Mexico, without seeing, in more ways
than one, the connection between Romanism and paganism. The population through this part of the territory
are Romanists of the rudest and most bigoted type.
Papal Rome boasts of her civilization, and seeks to
dominate over the whole world. Even some Protestants are beguiled into the belief that Catholic schools
are superior to those of the Protestant faith. Rome
has been master of Italy for centuries, but look at that
fair and sunny land to-day, and behold the effects of
the Catholic religion upon the people!
Catholic writers are in the habit of lauding the beneficent influence of popery in the city of Rome. It is
very true that great sums have been lavished on that
city in an artistic way.
Magnificent churches and
grand museums have been reared and stored with
paintings and sculptures of unsurpassed excellence.
Some travelers go to Rome and see only its art; others
see its people, and conclude that any government which
does not educate its children and elevate them fails intellectually and morally—fails in its mission. Judged by
this last standard, the Church and government of Rome
are every-where a stupendous fraud and failure. One
goes to Italy and visits the gorgeous palaces, the great
church of St. Peter and the stately Vatican, the marvelous
frescoes of Raphael, and cries out, "Wonderful! " This
kind of visiting makes Catholics. On the other hand,
a journey through the suburbs of the Eternal City, or
through some of the papal States, tends to unmake
them. One traveler says: " W e often observed in our
journeyings plenty of farm hands, mostly women, but
saw no houses, and were told that the people lived only

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

in the cities and villages as, a means of protection from
robbers. This is, however, untrue. I have since seen
the fact fully confirmed that there exist no predatory
bands in this country, for the good reason that there is
not enough on the farms to support them. Should they
take it all they would have no booty. The robbers
have long since quit, because there is nothing to steal
outside of the churches. The land, so beautiful and productive to all appearance, is a bairen waste. Not from
want of natural gift, but from want of cultivation. We
saw rolling tracts of land containing many thousands of
acres utterly abandoned to the wolves and foxes of the
distant Apennines. The people living in the villages
and towns were unfortunate enough, but those that lived
outside were almost reduced to the level of the brute
creation. The condition of the people, especially the
women, who are too poor to have homes near the fortress, is fearful. We went ourselves into the fields and
inquired of them about their condition and wages. We
were informed, by the more intelligent of them, that
their pay did not average five cents a day, and they
board themselves."
If it is the mission of the Church to keep men in ignorance, superstition, and poverty, then the Church of
Rome has been a success in Italy and Mexico. The
latter has been the paradise of priests for centuries, and
at the same time a land of beggars. No matter where
the stage stops, in the country village or city, at once^the
beggars appear on the scene. Lieutenant Baker says
that, when hunting in the upper Nile regions, when an
animal of any kind was killed, though at the moment
not a vulture was in sight, in an hour afterward the air
would swarm with them. They seemed to come down out
of the skies or up out of the ground, attracted by the sight
or smell of the dead beast. So Mexican beggars light

T H E H A U N T S OF T H E B A N D I T T I .

123

down on the traveler at every stoppage of train or stage.
Among them are old wrinkled men and women, filthy
and cadaverous, mere lads and lasses, and at times even
little children, who hold out their hands and plead for
cuartillso and centavos, the smallest of Mexican coins.
These poor creatures are the filthiest and raggedest
human beings I have ever seen anywhere. At first
they moved my compassion, causing me to deal out
small change to them, but I soon learned that to continue it would exhaust the capital of a national bank,
and, not having one with me, I desisted.
I had to study the question in order to justify myself
in what, at times, seemed hard-heartedness. I reasoned
in this way: The Catholic Church has had the exclusive and absolute training of these people, for over three
hundred years, and to-day they are the most degraded
and abject people in the civilized world. They are
wretched, almost beyond endurance. Life to them
means nothing; it is the merest vegetation.
The
present generation of Mexican Romanists is beyond
redemption. To help them is but to prolong a miserable existence and foster a bad custom. Better death
than the life which tens of thousands of them are living.
They are as good now as they ever can or will be. They
can hope for nothing better in this life or the next by
praying to the Virgin and doing penance. Much as
they move me to pity, and gladly as I would give to
them, where is the real benefit ? The hope of poor
down-trodden Mexico is in the continuance in power of
the Liberal party and in the children. The Liberal party
befriends Protestant Christianity, and the latter will do
something for the children ; and thus, in future generations, a new life will come to this land. T h e most forbidding people I had seen since I came into Mexico
were at Ojuelos. They were far removed from the

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

centers of business and of modern civilization. There
is a class of the population called leperos, who are a
mixture of the worst Spanish with the worst Aztec
blood. These people, far from being to blame for their
bad origin, are rather to be commiserated for their ignorance and moral degradation. A description of the
lepero, at once graphic and true, has been given by
Brantz Mayer:
" Blacken a man in the sun, let his hair grow long
and tangled, and become filled with vermin ; let him
plod about the streets in all kinds of dirt for years, and
never know the use of brush or towel, or water even,
except in storms ; let him put on a pair of leather
breeches at twenty, and wear them until forty without
change or ablution; and over all place a torn and
blackened hat, and tattered blanket begrimed with
abominations; let him have wild eyes and shining teeth,
features pinched by famine into sharpness, and breasts
bared and browned; combine all these in your
imagination, and you have a recipe for a Mexican
lepero."
To lie down at night in the midst of such a people to
sleep was, doubtless, quite' a safe thing to do in view of
the strong hand which the government has laid upon
these marauding bands, that have been for ages the
dread of tourists in the Sierra regions. Formerly along
this route robberies were of frequent occurrence, and
many a diligence company has been forced to surrender
at the point of the pistol or dagger, and every dollar and
every article of value, whether jewelry or clothing, taken
from the passengers, without regard to sex, who have
been left in a state of at least semi-nudity, to go on their
way as best they could. It is said that the danger is now
past; if so, it is only because the government keeps
along these mountain highways a strong force of mounted

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125

police, known as the Guardiã Rurales, who are fully
armed.
The seven States and one Territory which constitute
more than one half of the national domain do not contain over one and a half millions of people, and they
are the least thrifty of any in the republic. Great thoroughfares extend over this section of the north and
north-east, along which travel is quite considerable.
Besides, these mountains have been mined for silver and
gold, which have had to be carried through their passes
to market, and hence they became the natural hidingplaces of banditti, who have impressed their band names
upon several localities.
One of the things which is very noticeable here is
the dress of the natives. If the mode of their life is
simple, as they lie down on their mats to sleep, or sit on
the ground to eat their food, not less so is the style of
their wearing apparel. The Aztec Indian wears short,
wide trousers, made of coarse cotton cloth or the skin
of the deer, and which seldom extend 1 more than halfway between the knee and foot. Over these are a sort
of loose frock, made of the same material, but colored.
A girdle often encircles the waist. Both men and women wear cheap sombreros, woven of straw or sea-grass,
which cost only a few reals. A pair of leather sandals
protect the feet from the hot sands. As a rule, they are
exceedingly untidy in person, though it is due to the
Aztec Indian to state that he does take his bath once
in a great while. He uses the ancient temascale, a steam
bath at that, administered in an adobe oven built just
high enough to enable one to preserve an upright sitting
posture. Stones are heated and water is poured on
them in sufficient quantity to generate steam—a process
less complex than the modern Turkish bath and fully as
efficient. I heard of these baths, but saw none, and,

I2Ó

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF MEXICO.

judging from the appearance of the inhabitants, concluded the story of the temascale must be mythical.
The dress of the women is equally simple. They
wrap around their persons a piece of coarse cotton or
woolen cloth, passing it about the body twice, and holding it in position by a broad band. Over the shoulders
is worn a wide and very loose garment, with openings
for the arms. The hair hangs down the back in two
plaits, and when the toilet is made for some special occasion, as a bull-fight or a christening, is fastened with
high colored ribbons. They take great delight in earrings and other flashy ornaments. The races of northern Mexico distinguish their tribes by the color and
fashion of their costume. The huts along the way are
the very cheapest of structures. In the wooded districts, which are not numerous in this part, they build
with a little more permanency than on the plains, using
timber and thatch. At other points the houses are built
of adobe.
Simplicity reigns in these mountain huts. The crockery consists of a few unglazed pots and pitchers, some
cups and dippers made of gourd shell, an earthen vessel in which to burn the charcoal r answering the purpose
of a cooking-stove, with the omnipresent comal, or
earthen frying-pan, on which to cook the meat and tortillas. These constitute the rude outfit for housekeeping
through all this land of robber celebrity.
In such huts life is passed, if it can be called living,
children are born and reared, and men and women
sicken and die. Their wants are few, for they are children of nature, with whom a little goes a great way.
Like the dwellers on the table-lands of the eastern range,
described elsewhere, a mat of rushes or palm-leaves
answers for chair, table, or bed, and for winding-sheet
at death.

T H E H A U N T S OF T H E B A N D I T T I .

127

This rough mountaineer distills and brews his own
liquors. Almost every hut by the road-side has an
opening of some kind, often a mere hole in the rude
wall, in which is placed a mug of pulque, or some other
strong drink, to draw a few centavos from the pocket of
the traveler, and add to the wealth of the inhabitant.
The maguey plant furnishes him pulque, which produces
a stupid sort of intoxication, or he utilizes the universal
nopal cactus by expressing the juice of its fruit, the
tuna, and fermenting it. He lives mostly on fruits, and
when he attempts to cultivate the soil he does it with a
rude mattock and hoe. The wife does her part in the
home economy. A good wTife gives emphasis to the
meaning of the word which signifies weaver. It is her
divine mission, in all lands, to gather up the tangled
threads of life and weave them into garments of peace
and beauty. Here she is a weaver in more than a
figurative sense. With a few sticks she constructs a
loom, and out of the coarse fibers of the maguey leaf
weaves fabrics with which to clothe herself and her
children, using as a needle the long, sharp point of
the leaf, and its fibers for thread with which to do the
sewing.
Ojuelos has its rough plaza and its old stone church.
I had eaten an average Mexican supper, and was just
about sitting down to write up the notes of the day,
when the bell in the church tower began to clatter. The
church bells in Mexico are rung as we ring our fire-bells
when the ringers u ring with a will." One would almost
think they must melt from the pounding they receive
for something nearly every hour of the day. I laid down
my pen and walked out toward the church, where a large
company of people were gathering. On this occasion
the people in the town were celebrating the twenty-fifth
anniversary of the priest's assignment to this parish. A

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

very indifferent sort of a band was endeavoring to discourse music to a very indifferent crowd in the plaza.
Boys were playing at some sort of game which filled the
air with dust. On the roof of the church, surmounted
with a blackened old rococo dome and steeple, some
colored lights were gleaming out of the gathering darkness. The church was illuminated with a great many
candles. It was an hour when babies should have been
in bed, but on this occasion one was to be christened in
honor of this event. Á large number of people were assembled—women in black shawls, and other women in
coarse gray rebozos; peons in broad-brimmed sombreros,
hiding their faces in the folds of their zarapes, and beggars
in rags and dirt. Some were on their knees before the
high altar, others crowded around the main entrance
awaiting the child with its parents and god-parents.
It is customary, as Senor
, the civil engineer, informed me, for people in good circumstances to open
their purses, if not their hearts, and scatter some silver
coin among the poor on such occasions. There was a
considerable pushing and scrabbling as the expected
party arrived upon the scene, but, so far as I could discover, not a penny went into a beggar's hand. The organ and choir chanted something soft,
" Sweet and low "

as the company entered the have of the church and approached the pila bautismal—the font. It was ceremonious, but almost as devoid of reverence as an auction.
The little procession was preceded by several small boys
carrying lighted candles a foot or two long. A t a certain
stage in the proceedings these tapers were handed over
to a couple of red-faced, plump-looking men in surplices,
who placed them in tall candle-sticks within the altar.
In doing this they had to pass by one of those gaudily

T H E H A U N T S OF T H E B A N D I T T I .

129

dressed little images of the Virgin, before which they invariably made a courtesy in a very mechanical sort of
way.
Following these boys, and surpliced somethings,
came the reverend " father," a smooth-faced, well-kept
man, who evidently intended that this christening
service should be conducted with all due ceremony.
T h e parties stood before the font in perfect order, and
the god-mother, I suppose it was, took the child in her
arms as soon as its blankets could be removed.
The priest read the prayers in Latin, with a rich
mellow voice, while the boys and surpliced men responded the amens almost like genuine Methodists.
The lights about this time had grown quite dim, for the
movement was rather slow, so that I could not see; but
my friend, who was reared a Catholic and is now a liberal,
explained to me the custom. First salt was placed on the
child's tongue, oil was rubbed on the chest, forehead, back,
and cheeks. Next its head was douched with cold water,
at which the feeble little thing issued a vigorous protest,
raising an audible squall. This over, it was rubbed with
a towel, refolded in its blankets, and passed over to the
arms of its mother or some relative. The priest pro-'
nounced what I understood to be a benediction, every
body bowed to the Virgin except the two travelers, and the
scene was ended. T h e custom on christening occasions
is for the priest, the parents of the child, and relatives
to repair to the child's home, and for the parents to bestow various presents on the different members of the
family which are understood to be precursors and symbols of the child's future abundance in the things of
this world. As I trudged back to my hotel through the
dust and crowd of people, including every size, shape,
color, and grade of life, I said to my liberal friend and
companion, " If these people are so rough with their
9

130

THROUGH THE HEART

OF M E X I C O .

religion, what would they be without any ? " His reply
was to the point, " If Mexico had not been Catholic,
lying, as it does, so near the great United States of the
North, it would long ago have been Protestant and progressive." To all of which I assented. I was soon at
rest in my room, and in the early morning we started
on our way through El Passo de Cuarenta, once the
home of forty robbers.

THE

H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

131

C H A P T E R XII.
T H E HOME OF FORTY

ROBBERS.

Rough, rougher, roughest—Scarcity of timber—Burning wooden
saints—Too much pulque—Breakdown—Forced march—Huts and
pistols —Under the rock—The true gentleman—Confessions of a
Liberal—Revolution—Too big a story—Jaunt in a cart—Home of
forty robbers—Valley sights—A garden of sweets—Dogs and donkeys—Dead flies—Music hath charms—Onward by torch-light—Rest
and rails.

m

H E first time I took my seat in a Mexican diligencia^ I thought, whatever else might happen,
one thing was certain, the cumbersome vehicle would
not break down. T h e roads across the mountains are
as smooth as the physical condition of the country along
with its financial state will warrant.
They test the
strength of any carriage, no matter how strongly built.
We started on our way from Ojuelos in the morning at
the usual hour of four o'clock. The coach was drawn
by a full team of mules. When the passenger loqks out
of the coach window and sees twelve of these animals
attached to it, he knows what kind of roads are ahead
of him. All through the forenoon our course wound
about among the mountains. Now we went up and
now down. Once in a while we came to a small level
spot, over which we glided quite smoothly, hoping the
mountains were past. But the first thing we knew our
mules were drawing us up some long rocky winding
slope again. We occasionally crossed river-beds that
were waterless, channels which only fill up in the rainy
season, and then soon run dry. This region is quite

132

THROUGH

THE H E A R T OF MEXICO.

timberless, the mountains are rocky and lofty, and the
soil hard, so that when the rain does fall the waters
rush down the valleys in great, and often overwhelming,
floods. Nothing strikes the traveler more than the great
absence of timber. Forests are few. Is it any wonder,
when for centuries the people have been burning it into
charcoal and cutting it off for other domestic purposes,
and never planting a tree! The Emperor Maximilian,
it is true, did introduce into Mexico the eucalyptus, a
species of Australian gum-tree, which is of rapid growth,
attaining a height of fifty or sixty feet in a few years,
and, besides, is quite ornamental.
The railroads are using the mesquite for fuel, a shrubtree which abounds over all the land. It is a small, but
very compact, species of timber. About twenty-five per
cent, of the cost of Mexican railway management is the
fuel bill. In one instance I heard of a wood-purchasing agent for one of the railway companies buying three
hundred wooden saints for fuel, which he bargained for
at forty cents a head!
They were furnished by the
natives, and on deliveriug them no questions were
asked. A good coal mine in Mexico would be a greater
bonanza to its owner than the best silver mine they
have. We had passed high noon, had eaten our lunch
in as wretched a tavern as ever sheltered a mountain
tourist, and were descending a long slope, which was
exceedingly rocky, at a rate of speed that threw us at
times out of our seats, making what the printers call
" pi " of the passengers, when all of a sudden " crash
went the crockery ! "
The driver on this run was not as good as some
others we had had. His flushed face and stolid appearance plainly indicated that he was entirely too full of
pulque to handle the reins properly in such a region as
that through which we were passing.
T h e way he

T H E H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

133

would rush down the steep places, and around the
curves, was almost frightful. The lives of the passengers were in peril. It was when descending one of these
roughest spots, and just as we reached a small stream of
water in a valley, that the right rear wheel directly under me was wrecked and the coach brought suddenly to
a halt. We were in a place called the Puerto, de Cuar~
enta, the pass of the forty, nine miles from the next relay
station, and thirty miles from Lagos, the terminus of the
diligence line. The accident was no small one if it was
but the breaking of a coach wheel. There were no
telegraph or telephone lines that could be called into
use by which to order a new coach to replace this
wrecked one.
The assistant driver had to take the harness off one
of our mules and ride to Lagos, a distance of thirty
miles over a rough mountain road. The new coach
must return over the same thirty miles to our rescue,
and then carry us on to Lagos. Ninety miles of mountain roads must be traversed, and every body detained
and put to great inconvenience and personal discomfort, because a drunken driver whipped his mules into a
stiff gallop where they should have been allowed to
walk. These coaches, though so stoutly built, soon
wear out, owing to the hard usage to which they are
subjected.
We were nine miles from Cuarenta, the only place
where we could obtain food, or lie down to rest. We
were in a dilemma surely. Some of the passengers could
not walk that distance and hence had to remain with the
disabled coach. To be compelled to stay until midnight
or after in the heart of the mountains would be quite a tax
upon one's patience, as well as trying to his nerves, for it
was a dismal, lonesome place. There was no t i ^ e to
be lost, and accordingly Senor
, the civil engineer,

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

his relative, and I concluded to take passage on walker's
line for Cuarenta. It was quite an undertaking for me
to walk nine or ten miles at that great elevation owing to
the rare atmosphere, to say nothing of the heat of the
sun. Kossuth said, " Nothing is too hard for him that
wills." We u plod our weary way " as rapidly as Gray's
plowman. The road we traveled had the advantage
of being uneven. It is far less tiresome to walk where
you ascend and descend alternately, than to trudge one's
way over a level monotonous plain. At some points
the ascent was quite steep, however, and consequently
a little taxing to the muscles. At the distance of about
five miles, which we were two full hours in making, I
found myself quite exhausted, not because I was weak,
but owing to the region we were in. To proceed farther
seemed impossible, to return to the broken coach equally so. Here and there stood rude cabins near the road,
to enter one of which might have been at the peril of
life. Indeed, I noticed that my fellow-travelers, both
of whom were native Mexicans, always drew their pistols
out of the sheaths and held them in readiness for use,
as we were passing these huts, or going through any
deep ravine which might shelter a brigand.
Senor
said it was a dangerous road to travel. Once he
politely offered his pistol to me, which I respectfully declined. At one point the road made a great bend, and
I saw how we could save time and strength by a shorter
cut, but which would take us near a hut and over a
part of the ground adjacent to it. This movement required a little diplomacy. In the door of the hut sat a
man with bronzed skin, and dark and shaggy beard, very
roughly clad, holding between his teeth a pipe.
The gentlemen with me walked up to a stone wall in
front of him, with pistols in hand, but cleverly concealed,
and in Spanish pleasantly and politely asked permission

T H E H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

135

to cross the ground, and the privilege was as pleasantly
and politely granted. " Muchas gracias," they said, with
a bow, and we went on our way.
About this time I was very much overcome with the
heat, and began to look for a good place to sit down and
rest my tired limbs. Near by I saw a great porphyritic
rock protruding from the side of the mountain, the sight
of which recalled the words of the Hebrew prophet:
" And there shall be a tabernacle for a shadow in the day
time from the heat, and for a place of refuge, and for
a covert from storm and from rain." I thought, too,
of another Rock, and also of the " shadow of a great
Rock in a weary land." As we crept under it into the
deep shade, I realized that I was there in a land once
noted for its banditti, and near a town known formerly
as the rendezvous of forty robbers. I was there unarmed
with two men, men whom I had never seen until within
a day or two. I was lying under a great rock, which
may have secreted many a daring bandit waiting for his
victim, and yet I was almost as unconcerned about my
own personal safety as I would have been in my own
home. The men in whose company I was journeying
bore the unmistakable stamp of honorable manhood.
There is a royalty outside of king's palaces. It is often
found in the humble and quiet walks of life. Our conversation during the day had been on various subjects,
but now it happened to turn on questions relating to the
Church and government of Mexico. It came easily,
naturally. Perhaps my own thoughts were started in
that direction by the associations of the great rock in
whose cooling shadow we were reclining for a little rest
preparatory to a further prosecution of our journey.
Seflor
was the younger of the two Mexicans, and
was the spokesman. The other gentleman was the silent
man of the party. I cannot now recall the precise

136

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

words of my own, which sent the conversation along the
particular line it took, but as I was studying the interior
life of the people of Mexico, every utterance impressed me, and while I could not retain in my memory the
exact wording, I could the substance, which was all I
cared for. The spirit is more than the body—the
meaning more than the mere words. It was easy to be
seen, from several expressions he dropped, that the civil
engineer was not much of a churchman, and so I felt all
the more ready to call him out. He possessed several
qualities that rendered him just the kind of man I desired to meet. He was intelligent and very gentlemanlv,
and was well-educated, having, as he told me, spent
several years in Europe, as a student, after passing the
curriculum of the best college in his own land. I believed what he said about it, for his general conversation
and references to places abroad were to me convincing
proofs of his truthfulness. Besides he was a liberal,
which, in Mexico, signifies that a man is no longer willing to give all his earnings to the Church, and to be led
by the priest, as if he had no right as a man to think for
himself.
I said something about the numerous political revolutions in Mexico, as indicating a restless spirit. " Foreigners," said he, "who are not acquainted with our
country, have an idea that we are wholly given up to
anarchy and misrule, and charge us with loving revolutions as a sort of pastime for excitement. They think
we delight in war. Never was there a greater mistake.
We love revolutions," he said, with a significant look,
"when our rights are usurped by a foe who resides under
the sunny skies of Italy, and then we believe in the logic
of the sword."
H e went on to say that there was a party in Mexico,
who were regarded by Romish priests as atheists, be-

T H E H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

137

cause they did not patronize the Church by the payment
of tithes and attendance upon the confessional. " Pay
tithes," said he, " and attend mass and confessional, and
then go and do what you please. The worst brigands
who infest the mountains are devout Romanists, and in
the huts and caves where they hide will always be seen
the crucifix and image of the Virgin."
As this last sentence fell from his lips, the senor's
eyes fairly flashed and a glow came over his dark
cheeks, which indicated that he felt deeply what he said.
I asked him if he had ever been in the United States.
He replied he had been in Washington and Baltimore,
and longed to see his native land as prosperous as
ours.
" You have Romanism in your country," he continued,
" but it is not governed, as Mexico has been for ages, by
a proud and avaricious clergy. The Church in Mexico
has been the real government, imposing constant limits
upon our rights as citizens, forbidding us to think, write,
teach, or gain instruction. That is the reason why we
are bankrupt in our national treasury and equally so in our
morals. Ever since Spanish priests invaded Mexico, the
rich mineral as well as all other resources have been seized
upon by bishop and king, while the people have been
held down under the most blinding superstitions. The
Church gained possession of the mind, the heart, and
the purse of the people, not by love, but by fear, and
kept on adding to its wealth until it owned more than
one half of the real estate of the country. This gave
the ecclesiastics tremendous power over the masses. If
they had but used it for the uplifting of the poor people,
it would have been well, but you see for yourself what
kind of a population we have."
As he said this his face wore, as I thought, an
expression of sadness.

138

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

" B u t you have no longer the inquisition in your
country," I remarked.
" H a d it not been for the spirit of revolution," he
answered, " we would to-day not only be governed by a
foreign king, but we should be exposed to inquisitorial
prisons and fires. The Mexican people/' he affirmed,
" really have no natural fondness for war above other nationalities. When large armies are needed, as when the
Americans invaded Mexico, the soldiers are raised by
conscription. The men who met the American armies
in that war had to be driven from their homes at the
point of the bayonet; that is a well-known fact in our
history."
" That may all be very true," I said, " b u t you have
had some revolutions arising from the desire foi* place
and power on the part of ambitious generals, have you
not?"
" Yes; the fact is Mexicans are human, and there was
an opportunity afforded to gain power and glory by men
who cared more for themselves than for their country.
Some revolutions have come about in that way. There
has been a feeling that things could not be much worse
than they were in any event, while somebody might
become a Washington. The experiment, it was thought,
was worth trying. Indeed, we Liberals desire to be on a
level, in point of free government and progress, wTith the
United States. We desire to emerge from a shameful
tutelage, under which we learned nothing more than to
found monasteries of recluses and misanthropes,
under which we had no better public spectacle offered
us than that of the auto-dã-fe.
In short, we desired a
life of our own—constitutional law and liberty of
conscience."
T u r n the subject over in whatever light I chose, my
friend, the senor, would take up the points and trace

T H E H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

139

them directly to the Church of Rome, as the main
source of all the revplutions in Mexican history, as well
as of the moral degradation and poverty of "the people.
Thinking to ascertain his religious sentiments, if he had
any, I asked him if he ever attended the church. H e
replied that he did not, but that he believed in a God,
and thought that no man was needed to come between
him and that God. H e believed that " Jesus Christ
lived and died, and was a great teacher—possibly the
greatest the world had ever seen, but that all the teachings of the only Church which he knew any thing about
ignored, in fact, both God and Christ, and elevated to
the throne of the universe an uneducated and simpleminded Hebrew woman, who lived and died about two
thousand years ago. That," said he, " is too much of
a story to ask a man who thinks to believe."
As he uttered the last sentence a smile of scorn
passed over his face I shall not soon forget. Having
taken a good rest, we arose and pursued our walk
toward Cuarenta.
Soon after we had reached the highway again there
came out of a by-road a peon, with a cart laden with
straw and drawn by a mule. The wagon was a curiosity.
As I remember it now there was not an ounce of iron
about it. In Mexico wagons are frequently made entirely of wood. The harness was constructed of leather
straps and some strings twisted from the fibers of the maguey plant. We made up a purse and bought his straw
for un peso, one dollar, and had it dumped off by the side
of the road, where he could get it again if he wished,
and then for another dollar he entered into articles of
agreement to carry us to Cuarenta. We composed ourselves as well as we could in the bed of the one horse
or mule wagon, minus springs or seats, save such as we
extemporized out of the straw. Then we set out at

140

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

such speed as one might expect from a half-starved
mule on a rough highway amid the Sierra. All went
on gayly, for by this time we were rested and had become
well acquainted, and it was a little easier riding, even in
such a cart, than footing it. Presently we came to a
place in the road where there was an old wash-out, when
his muleship, despite the efforts of the driver, assisted by
all the passengers, determined to go to the side of the
road instead of walking in the wash-out in the middle.
The right wheel, the one on my side, ran into the gutter,
and over went the wagon, throwing us all out. I fell
directly under and was completely covered with the
dust of the road, which at this point consisted of pulverized limestone. I was as white as a miller, but
came out from under the nondescript vehicle unhurt.
One of my "companions in distress," the silent man,
did not escape so well. In the overthrow he suffered a
severe wrench of the left arm, which quite disabled him.
It would be a great calamity for a man to break a leg,
or an arm, or to meet any other severe accident in such
a place ; for it is not likely that the aid of a physician
or surgeon could be secured within less than thirty or
forty miles, and then he might not be very skillful.
By and by Cuarenta appeared in sight at a seeming
distance of a mile or even less. Such is the peculiar
clearness of the atmosphere that distance deceives one.
The town was about three miles away, judged by the
time consumed in reaching the place after first sighting
it. It was late in the afternoon when we drove up to
the Hotel Diligencias.
Did the reader ever before hear
of the place ? Cuarenta means forty, and, like Catorce,
mentioned in a previous chapter, took its name from a
band of brigands. I put up at this adobe hotel to await the
coming of the stage. ^ T h e region through which I had
walked was one far remote from the busy marts. The

T H E H O M E OF F O R T Y ROBBERS.

141

stillness was marked.
The silence, almost oppressive,
is disturbed by nothing save the rumble of a passing
coach-wheel or the occasional footstep of a wandering
peon—the debased descendant of that mysterious people
who came no one knows whence, and whose posterity,
though numbered by the million in Mexico, now fallen
from their former greatness, are mere " hewers of wood
and drawers of water." But any sort of a stopping
place was better than a stay of ten or twelve hours
in a lone mountainous pass, or walking through the
mountain defiles, under a burning sun, panting for
breath.
I was in a town once celebrated as the head-quarters
of a band of forty robbers! Cuarenta is an adobe \ illage, with a population of about one or two thousand
souls, more or less. Shall I describe it? Can I ? The
hotel is of one story, the rooms are three in number, a
kitchen, a bar-room, and a " parlor." T h e walls are
two feet thick, while the cement floor is a couple of feet
below the street grade, hence in the hottest hour of the
day the place is cool. In the rear of it is a very large
garden, through which I wandered at will. Here grow
a number of orange and lemon trees. The trees ' had
on them flowers, as well as green and ripe fruit. Several
thrifty fig-trees, also, were laden with fruit. Oleanders, covered with rich blossoms, grew there as
large as apple-trees. Half a dozen varieties of roses,
and as many of geraniums, all in bloom.
There
were many other flower-bearing shrubs whose names I
did not know. It is filled with a great-variety of flowers of many hues, blue, purple, red, golden.
The
cactus is here, as it is every-where. The place might
be a paradise, but it is not. It is a poultry-yard as well
as a garden—chickens and turkeys rove about among
these flowers. Several dogs chase each other in their

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

play under the foliage. It is a wood-yard where several
donkey loads of the mesquite are piled, and where all
the debris of the establishment finds lodgment. Mexicans are fond of bright and beautiful colors.
But let us look at an average street in an interior
Mexican village. This street, on which stands the
" hotel," is about a third to half a mile in length, and
thirty feet broad. In front of the huts on each side is
a narrow stone sidewalk, say three feet wide, and very
irregular in its grade. In the dusk of the evening the
sights are various and interesting to a stranger. The
peons have quit work, and are squatting in groups about
their humble door-ways. The streets are alive with
half-clothed children of all ages. Such a scene ! Dogs
are nearly as numerous as the children, and are playing
in the streets with them. Hogs go rooting about in the
sand, and squealing around the door-ways. Donkeys
wander up and down. Here and there sheep and goats
appear on the scene. And then the Mexicans ring their
church bells precisely as we do our fire bells, only with
more vigor. , So we have the clatter of several church
bells mingling with the braying of asses, the barking of
dogs, the squealing of hungry pigs, the shouting of boys
and girls, and what not. It is difficult to characterize
the spectacle. Shall I tell you what happened at our
table d'hote? But I must say that the before-mentioned
" parlor" is also dining-room, bedroom, and general
sitting-room, dog kennel, and chicken coop, at the same
time. At night, if the house is full, some of the guests
can lie right down on the cement floor, which is dry and
cool. At one end of this nondescript sort of place is a
table, on which, over a white cotton spread, is a crucifix
and some candles, with a picture of the Virgin, so that
it is a church as well. Eleven willow cages are hanging
on the walls, containing birds of rare and beautiful plum-

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143

age. These denizens of the hill country are fond of
birds. It is in this place I dine—on what ? First, fried
rice and tortillas, then some meat seasoned with the usual
onions and garlic. Now it happened that on my " steak "
were two dead flies,1 or insects of some kind, and I signaled to the head-waiter, a fifteen-year-old Aztec boy
about the color of smoked ham, that J didn't like fried
flies. He looked at me with a vacant stare, as much as
to say, " They are as good as the meat, seflor." The
hostess saw my trouble, and, pushing the boy into the
corner, relieved my embarrassment by deliberately picking off the insects with her fingers and throwing them
on the floor. But I was not hungry for meat just then,
and so did not partake. All she charged for this dinner,
flies included, was half a dollar. Later in the evening
I walked down the main street in this town of robber
celebrity, and was not a little surprised to hear two young
ladies singing, with a piano accompaniment. I could not
help noticing the strange mixture of elements in this
civilization. What reason had any one to expect a piano
in such a place ? These people, with all their degradation, are fond of music, flowers, and birds. It is a
hopeful sign.
At two o'clock in the morning we were called up to
take a new start, as our coach had arrived from the
place of the breakdown.
So, wrapping myself in my
traveling shawl, I resumed my seat and my journey.
Two guards rode ahead of us on horseback through the
dark, carrying in their hands torches made of tarred
rope, which not only lighted the way, but threw off sparks
right and left, making one think of a wood-burning locomotive. At six o'clock the same morning, we were in
Lagos, a city of ten thousand inhabitants, on the line of
the Mexican Central Railroad, and, after a few hours'
rest and a good breakfast, I was ready to resume my

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

way. The days had sped away, and the long and wearisome journey by stage was at an end. It was one which
I would not like to repeat, yet the experience gained in
the trip is invaluable.
It seemed strange to travel where armed guards must
protect person and property in a land of churches and
priests, where the crucifix, which tells of the Saviour, is
seen in every hut, stands by the roadside in many places,
is cut in the rocks or carved in the clay banks that at
times border the road, and crowns innumerable buildings ; a land where the image of the Virgin Mary is continually before you, and yet a land that has been noted
lor its robbery and its crime.

From H i R T n a ' i M I O À Z I N I .

SAN ANTONIO RIVER.

T H E V A L E S OF A N A H U A C .

145

CHAPTER XIII.
T H E VALES OF ANAHUAC.
Ranges and peaks—Old safety-valves — Robbed—Scared — Out
of the woods—Rich valley—An investment—Guanajuato and silver
—Guadalajara and its plazas—Three rivals—Old Queretaro—Rich
corporation—Scant garments—State rights—Oppressions—Grinding
the poor—Custom-house exactions—Poetry and prose.

m

H I S title smacks a trifle of the romantic.
Writers on Mexican history and geography speak
of the great mountain ranges which extend through the
whole length of the territory from south to north. I
suppose they do run in certain general directions called
ranges, but really it seemed to me to be little less than a
land dotted all over with mountains, here in clusters,
there in single peaks, which seem to jut right up out of the
plains. Go where you will in Mexico, especially in the
central and southern portion, and a mountain or chain
of mountains confronts you. The Mexican Sierras are
regarded as a continuation of the South American Cordillera, which subside in Central America, and then rise
again in Mexico. This is a volcanic chain throughout,
according to Lyell, and in Mexico sends off a branch
on the parallel of the city of that name, which is prolonged in a great platform between the eighteenth and
twenty-second degrees of north latitude. Five once
active volcanoes traverse Mexico from east tó west,
Tuxtla, Orizaba, Popocatepetl, Jorullo, and Colima—
nature's safety-valves. There was a tradition among the
ancient people of Mexico that their country extended
10

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

from the shores of the Caribbean Sea to Greenland,
the Ultima Thule of the Aztecs. But Anahuac could
not have included the whole of this vast extent. The
word means near the waters, and hence the territory of
the aborigines must have been confined to the region
lying between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, with
somewhat indefinite southern and northern boundaries.
San Luis Potosi lies on the northern border of Anahuac
proper. I had hoped to get through the haunts of the
banditti and the home of forty robbers with safety to
person and property, but failed to realize my expectations. I was robbed ! robbed, too, right in El Paso de
Quarenta, at that. The story of the broken coach wheel
has been related.
After arriving at Lagos, having come out into the
region of railroads, I of course proceeded to make myself a little more presentable by a bath and change of
linen. But on opening my satchel what did I discover !
That it had been plundered by some one back in the
mountains. The thief did not take the soiled or unsoiled linen, nor the celluloid collars and cuffs, nor tooth
brush, nor comb. No ; the denizens of the mountains
have but little use for such articles. But a field-glass
which had served me so faithfully, bringing remote objects into clearer view and making the magnificent
scenery of mountain and valley to appear more distinct, alas ! it was gone, hopelessly gone. At one point
on the way over the mountain plateaus we weie quite
alarmed, however, at what seemed like being a genuine
affair. As we were crossing the plains, at about *wo
o'clock one afternoon, we beheld four men approaching
us on horseback at their utmost speed. They drew
nearer and nearer, and then swept into the road in our
rear, and galloped after us until they came up to us,
when one of the horsemen rode right by the side of the

T H E V A L E S OF A N Á H U A C .

147

coach, which was going very rapidly, and called upon
the driver to halt, which, after some moments he did,
when the rider handed him a package to be delivered
somewhere, and, wheeling his horse, rode off in the direction from which he came. As in a former case it
was only a slight scare. Imagine my feelings as the
coach rumbled into Lagos and I was once more, after
many days of staging, in sight of a railroad ! What a
transition ! No locomotive ever before looked so grand
to me as that one did that day in Lagos. It was a
three-wheeler, made in Philadelphia. I walked around
it, actually touched it, patted its iron ribs, almost
kissed it. Then there was the baggage and express
cars. What splendid structures ! Then followed the
passenger coaches. In front, next to the express car
were those of the third-class, to accommodate the peons,
the lowest grade of Mexican people ; next in order
came the second-class, for those of moderate means or
for any who chose to save their cash at the expense of
their dignity; and, lastly, the first-class, for rich hacendados—men who own vast ranches and mines—governors, generals of the army, merchant princes, bankers,
and tourists provided with free passes! That railroad
coach in which I took my seat seemed almost like the
czar's palace on wheels to me that morning. If six
hundred miles of travel in Mexican diligencias over
Mexican roads will not make a railway coach seem palatial, I don't know what will. I actually felt so kingly
that at almost the first station at which the train stopped
I paid two reals, twenty-five cents, to an old Mexican
woman for a box of ripe strawberries, picked fresh from
the vines. They were exceedingly luscious, the large
berries on top, the small ones in the bottom of the basket.
I do not regret having taken this long interior
ride, for the day of the diligence will soon be over.

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

T h e railway here, as every-where else, is proving the
death of the slow-going stage coaches.
I had now fairly entered the valley of the ancient
Anahuac, a region of country which contains a thrifty
population where many objects of interest attract the
tourist. There is in this part of the Mexican Republic
some exceedingly productive soil. Irrigation is necessary at almost every point, however. Water is drawn
from wells by animal or human power, or is diverted
by channels, acéquias, from natural wTater-courses, and
made to do the work of the clouds. Without this
artificial method it would be difficult to raise any thing
in many parts of the republic.
There are many cities of note in this famous valley.
Among them Guanajuato, a place of over sixty thousand
inhabitants, the capital of the State bearing the same
name, and situated nearly three hundred miles northwest of the city of Mexico. Its foundation dates as far
back as the middle of the sixteenth century. This has
been for ages a region of silver mines, and one of the
richest in the republic. Not less than three hundred
millions of dollars' worth of silver and gold have been
taken out of these mines to the present date. They have
been worked ever since 1558. The ore must now be
brought up from a depth of fifteen hundred feet by
powerful machinery. Then there is Guadalajara, situated
on the west bank of the Rio de Santiago, which in its
magnitude is second only to the Rio Grande. The houses
are substantially built. The streets cut each other at
right angles, and are well-paved and unusually wide for
this latitude. Both Puebla and Leon must yield the
palm to Guadalajara.
There are fewer foreigners in
this city than in most others, owing to its remoteness
from the railways. The churches are numerous and
costly. The cathedral is one of the oldest and finest in

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149

all Mexico. It presents in its architecture a combination
of the Arabian and Moorish style, with its pointed arches,
clustered pillars, lofty towers, and flying buttresses.
Guadalajara has a population of about seventy-five
thousand. Fourteen plazas adorn the city, the Plaza de
Armas being the chief. It has an academy of fine arts
and a university, besides, on the industrial side, several
woolen and cotton manufactories. Like Leon, it lies in
a section whose fertility produces a great variety of
fruits and cereals. Lake Chapala, the largest in Mexico, having an area of four hundred and fifteen square
miles, lies at a distance of forty miles from this city.
Several islands are embosomed in its waters, which contain, it is said, some very ancient ruins. I might speak
of Zacatecas, San Miguel de Allende, and distant Chihuahua, but as I did not see them they must be passed
by in this account. The city of Leon does not lie directly in a silver mining region, but in an agricultural
section, and is one of the most enterprising places in the
republic. The inhabitants take great pride in their
city, claiming a population of over one hundred thousand and holding it to be, next to the capital, the finest
in Mexico. Leon, Puebla, and Guadalajara are like Chicago, Cincinnati, and Saint Louis in the United States.
Each vies with the others for the palm of greatness.
Leon lies on the northern border of one of the richest
cereal belts in Mexico. I thought as our train swept
over it that it could hardly be surpassed in richness of
production in any land. It was here that I parted company with Senor
, for whom I had come to feel a
brother's regard. The time from this to the capital is
about fourteen hours of continuous journey.
The
scenery along the line of the road is beautiful. T h e
eye takes in an ever-changing panorama of mountain and
valley as the train sweeps on around the great curves

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

and over the plains of Anahuac. From north to south
for nearly one hundred miles, and with a breadth varying from twenty to thirty miles from east to west, the
country is almost equal to an Illinois prairie.
Queretaro interested me because it has such a history. It was founded by the Aztecs before Columbus
discovered America, and at the time of the Spanish invasion it is said to have been a flourishing city. Lying
in the heart of one of the richest valleys in the republic,
with a temperate and salubrious climate, every kind
of fruit, flower, and grain can be found in this market.
A stone aqueduct, which calls up memories of ancient
Rome, supplies wholesome water from a neighboring
hill. One of the greatest manufacturing establishments
in the country is located in the vicinity of Queretaro.
The buildings and grounds are reported to have cost
$4,000,000. It gives employment to over a thousand
operatives, engaged in the manufacture of a coarse kind
of cotton goods, worn mostly by the peons. The machinery of this immense factory is propelled by both steam
and water power. The largest overshot wheel in the
world is said to be in use at this mill. A corps of about
forty soldiers, well armed with rifles and cannon, are in
the service of the owners for defense against any possible
insurrection or revolution. An attacking party, in order
to effect an entrance, would have to scale the high solid
stone wall, which incloses the property, in the face of
musketry and cannon.
All along my journey the poorly clad peons, whether
male or female, excited my pity. In the first place, the
warmth of the climate might seem to be a reason why
these people wear such poor, cheap, thin clothing. Men
and women protect their shoulders in the evening with an
extra wrap. The man will wind over his shoulders and
face his woolen zarape—the woman covers hers with

T H E V A L E S OF A N A H U A C .

151

the universal rebozo. The transition in point of temperature is very marked, and the natives know by experience
how to protect themselves against these changes. A foreigner who ventures out in the evening—and one can
scarcely resist the temptation to remain out late in this
climate—unprotected about the face is sure to take cold.
The scarcity of water in the interior accounts in part
for the filthy condition of their very scant garments. I
have seen a great many instances where a dollar or two
would purchase the wardrobe of a whole family, especially
if goods were sold at New York prices. Take into consideration the climate, along with the ingrained habits of
the people, the low wages paid for labor, and the prices
demanded by the merchants for their dry goods, most
of which are imported notwithstanding home manufacture, and it is no wonder one sees in Mexico so many
half-naked people. The revenue laws are the most oppressive of any in the world. For example, all incorporated cities and towns exact tolls at their gates on all
produce brought to their markets. The poor peon, who
carries his crate of crockery or charcoal thirty miles on
his back, must pay a duty before he can dispose of it.
And if he has no ready money, must leave his zarape or
some other article of sufficient value with the tax collector until he can redeem it with cash after he has sold
his produce.
State rights are recognized in this our sister republic
with a vengeance. The State is very independent.
While by the Constitution all the States composing the
federal union are required to pay out of their general
treasury a pro rata equal to twenty-five per cent, of the
total taxation for federal purposes, the general government is quite powerless to enforce the collection if the
State authorities refuse to pay over the amount. This is
often the cause of internal contentions. Mexico not be-

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

ing much of a commercial nation the import revenues
are not large. The only custom-house which yields any
considerable amount is at Vera Cruz. T o support the
general government by paying the salaries of the officials, keep up the army, meet the interest on the national
debt, and provide for the various subsidies voted by Congress to public works, every industry is taxed. Besides,
each State has its own system of internal revenue. T h e
governor and other State officers must be paid, and their
salaries are large. The Governor of San Luis Potosi has a
salary of $8,000 a year, and $14,000 per year for office expenses. Whence comes the money ? From the heavy
taxation on all industrial pursuits, and the stamp duties
on all sales. Every thing sold in the market must be
stamped or assessed in some way. Every railroad ticket
must have on it a government stamp. T h e soil alone is
.free from taxation. For instance, some dry goods, machinery, or any thing else, are ordered from New York,
New Orleans, London, or Paris, to be sold at San Luis
Potosi. These articles arrive at Laredo, Matamoras, or
some other point on the Rio Grande. These dry goods,
for example, must be taken to the custom-house at
Monterey. The officers will not accept an invoice
sworn to, but the boxes must all be opened, every article
examined, and the duties levied for the State of Nuevo
Leon. Having been examined and assessed, they are
re-boxed, taken back to the railway station, at great cost
of time and labor to the owner, who must furnish his
own clerks to see to the account, and then are sent on to
Saltillo, the capital of the State of Coahuila, where they
are again taken to the custom-house, re-opened and examined and compared with the original invoice, and
assessed for the State of Coahuila. Then again they are
reboxed and forwarded to San Luis Potosi, where, for the
third time, they are taken to the custom-house, opened,

T H E V A L E S OF A N A H U A C .

153

examined, item by item, and assessed for the State of
San Luis Potosi. Now at last they are ready for the
retail trade. Is it any wonder I paid nearly five dollars
in Saltillo for a linen duster, which would have cost me
one third of that amount anywhere on our side of the
line. A box of snuff which costs $9 at wholesale in New
Orleans must bring $50 here, because of the enormous
duties assessed upon it as it passes through different
States. An intelligent American gentleman, doing business in Mexico, informed me that he shipped some machinery from New York to Mexico, the cost of which, in
New York, was $5,000. T h e freight charges on it to the
Rio Grande were I785. T h e duties on it at the first
custom-house in Mexico amounted to $2,300, with two
and one half per cent, additional for handling. A carriage of any kind is taxed $100 a wheel when it crosses
the line. A piano, costing in New York $350, when it
reaches San Luis Potosi has cost nearly $1,200. This
is ruinous to trade and proves a fearful drawback, especially to all the importing business. The authorities
of a State may change the tariff even after the shipment
of goods has been made, which must prevent any safe
business calculations. But it is their way, and it will
likely remain so until some new and great revolution,
some time or other, brings a change. If the lands were
taxed in Mexico the revenue would be ample, and then
the poor would fare better. T h e owner of real estate
would endeavor to make the land pay its way, which
would lead to more and better agriculture, while the
merchant would be relieved of the enormous duties on
his importations. When a yard of calico, which is sold
in New York for five or six cents, costs the buyer here
from eighteen to twenty-five cents, the half-naked condition of the poor peons is easily explained.
Agriculture and grazing employ a large portion—per-

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haps seven eighths—of the inhabitants. The soil is noted
for its richness and fertility, although portions are unfit
for cultivation. T h e value of agricultural products is estimated at nearly $200,000,000 annually. The well-known
mineral wealth of the republic constitutes the main basis
of its foreign commerce. At the present time, however,
the annual amount exported is as large as it is generally
stated in statistics—probably not over $25,000,000 in
silver, and in gold between two and three millions.
There are also valuable mines of quicksilver, iron, and
copper in operation.
Curious stories are related of the custom-house
officials which show how business is carried on in the
country. The custom-houses have on their lists nearly
four hundred specified articles on which duties are assessed with regularity. Then when any thing is presented that is new to the officials, it is charged for after
the manner of some article which it most nearly resembles. When celluloid was first introduced, the revenue officials did not know whether to assess it as bone or
ivory, but decided to adopt the latter, to which it bears
a likeness. As bone, it would have been assessed twentynine cents a kilogram; but as ivory, $2 20. A large difference. Hooks and eyes made of a metal somewhat resembling silver, though very cheap, when first introduced
were assessed as silver, and instead of nineteen cents
a kilogram, they were charged $1 15 a kilogram. An
Englishman, after consulting with the Mexican consul at
Liverpool, shipped a small lot of fancy goods to Mexico.
The whole cost him in England $1,200. When he got
through the custom-house at Vera Cruz the total charge
on his stock amounted to $2,850. He sold the whole
for $2,000, borrowed money to pay the remaining indebtedness, and returned home/*
* Old Mexico and her Lost Provinces', by Wm. Henry Bishop.

T H E V A L E S OF A N A H U A C .

155

An American gentleman, doing some business in the
city of Mexico, was in New York, and, thinking he might
need some plaster of paris, purchased a barrel of it and
shipped it to Vera Cruz. There it was opened and declared to be a valuable chemical of some kind, and was
assessed at $80. This, added to the original cost of the
article, with the freight bill, made it rather expensive.
So he quietly thought to himself, the authorities might
keep the plaster and do what they pleased with it. But
notice was sent him that he must redeem the barrel or
he would get into trouble. " A word to the wise" in
that case was u sufficient." But $90 was surely a good
price to pay for a barrel of plaster of paris.
The government, to exist ât all, must have money. It
gets it—but under such a system of State and national
revenue no people can be highly prosperous, nor is it
strange that the lower and poorer classes are so illy clad.
In passing through the vale of Anahuac, one meets a
good deal of poetry—in passing a Mexican customhouse he finds the prose.

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

C H A P T E R XIV.
T H E ADVENTURER

OF

MIRAMAR.

A notable spot—Causes of unrest—Strong language—Hidalgo the
martyr—The two parties in Mexico—Banishment of the ecclesiastics
—Maximilian a tool—The trailing banner—Napoleon's Latin race
—Aztec prophecy—Relation of the United States—William H. Seward—Sympathy with Mexico—Sherman on the Rio Grande—The
withdrawal—Escape possible—Courage of the emperor—The capture—Court-martial—Execution on the Ceno de las Campanas—
" Poor Carlotta"—Last letter.

o

U E R E T A R O is a very old city, and contains about
the usual number of narrow streets, flat-roofed
houses, somber stone churches, and ragged peons, all
mixed up with some good-looking people and fine edifices, both public and private. But that which will ever
make the place memorable is the fact that here Maximilian, the adventurer of Miramar, with two of his generals, Miramon and Mejia, were executed on the 19th of
June, 1867. T h e history of Mexico, ever since the days
of Cortez, constitutes the pathetic chapter in the world's
annals. I cannot do better than to quote from a distinguished Mexican writer, Senor Rivera y Rio :
" With the overthrow of Montezuma's empire, in 1520,
began the rule of the Spaniard, which lasted just three
hundred years. During this time Rome and Spain,
priest and king, held this land and people as a joint possession. The greedy hand was ever reached out to seize
alike the products of the mine and the soil. The people were enslaved for the aggrandizement and power of

T H E A D V E N T U R E R OF MIRAMAR.

157

a foreign Church and State. It was then that the Church
of Rome fostered such a vast army of friars, priests, and
nuns, acquired those vast landed estates, and erected
such an incredible number of stone churches, great convents, inquisitorial buildings, Jesuit colleges, and gathered such vast stores of gold and silver. All this time
the poor people were being reduced to the utmost poverty, and every right and opportunity for personal and
civil advancement was taken from them. They were
left to grope on in intellectual darkness. They could
have no commerce with foreign nations. If they made
any advance in national wealth, it was drained away for
royal and ecclesiastical tribute. Superstition reigned
under the false teachings of a corrupt priesthood, while
the frightful Inquisition, by its cruel machinery, coerced
the people to an abjectness that has scarcely had a parallel in human history. Under such a dispensation of
evil rule Mexico became of less and less importance
among the family of nations."
Lampriere, another writer of these times, says :
" T h e Mexican Church, as a Church, fills no mission
of virtue, no mission of morality, no mission of mercy,
no mission of charity. Virtue cannot exist in its pestiferous atmosphere. The cause of morality does not
come within its practice. It knows no mercy, and no
emotion of charity ever nerves the stony heart of the
priesthood, which, with an avarice that knows no limit,
filches the last penny from the diseased and dying beggar, plunders the widows and orphans of their substance as well as their virtue, and casts such a horoscope
of horrors around the death-bed of the dying millionaire,
that the poor, superstitious wretch is glad to purchase a
chance for the safety of his soul in making the Church
the heir of his treasures."
In 1810 the tocsin of liberty was sounded. The in-

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

strument of the uprising was Hidalgo, a priest. It was,
indeed, strange that a priest should sound the keynote of national reform, and raise the standard of
rebellion against even those of his own faith and order.
He was faithful among the faithless. Death by violence
put an end to his efforts, but Hidalgo did not die in
vain.
Nearly a dozen years of bloodshed followed the
martyrdom of Hidalgo, but all the while the party
of reform grew in numbers and in power. In 1821
Mexico was able to throw off the yoke of Spain.
This was accomplished by a union of the Liberal
party, the party of Hidalgo, with that of the Conservative or Church party. It was a strange coalition.
Two avowed enemies unite in a common defense.
This union was due to the act of the mother country.
The Spanish Cortes, under a revolutionary impulse,
had decreed a partial sequestration of the property
of the Mexican priesthood. This touched them in a
tender spot—the pocket. Oat of this came the revolution and Mexican independence, but the yoke of the
priesthood remained fastened upon the necks of the
people, and two parties divided the country upon great
issues of liberty. On the one hand the Romish priesthood openly avowed itself as the political party, using
the confessional and Inquisition as its instruments, united
with the aristocratic and monarchical element, comparatively few in number, but rich and powerful, in an unscrupulous opposition to every measure designed to elevate the down-trodden multitude, to educate the youth,
and to establish liberty as the birthright of all, and as
the fundamental basis of government, On the other side
stood the party of liberty, originating in a natural reaction against despotism, becoming gradually more and
more enlightened, and increasing in power under influ-

T H E A D V E N T U R E R OF M I R A M A R .

159

ences growing out from this our own country and from
the Bible, which had found its way into a few hands and
hearts. The struggle, at first for merely civil liberty and
progress, was carried on with many vicissitudes and sore
losses in life and property, yet with steady advance in
the strength of the Liberal party. At length, as light
spread by the introduction of the Scriptures, by intercourse with foreigners and the outer world, the press,
and actual experience in governmental polity, they persistently proclaimed higher and juster ideas of the rights
of man, until, by the remorseless persecution and crimes
of the priesthood, they were led to espouse the cause of
religious liberty, and embody it as a fundamental principle in their creed. The writer last quoted continues :
" The final issue of the struggle for constitutional liberty, just laws, equal rights, and freedom of worship,
took place in 1857, when the priestly party was vanquished. The Constitution and the laws of reform then
adopted, and still in force, emptied all the convents and
scattered their inmates, separated Church and State,
gave entire liberty of worship, forbade religious processions, the wearing in the streets of ecclesiastical robes,
and the carrying about of the ' so-called h o s t ; ' declared
ecclesiastics ineligible to hold offices in the government,
established civil marriages, nationalized the church property, guaranteed freedom of speech and the press ; and
in many other ways broke down the political power of
Rome in Mexico. In vain did the Roman Church excommunicate those who accepted the Constitution of
1857 and the Maws of reform.' In vain they inaugurated a civil war, and furnished treasure to military
chieftains. In i860 their cruel banner trailed in the
dust—Miramon and his chieftains fled the country—and
Juarez, the lawful president, fully inaugurated the new
constitutional government. , ,

i6o

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

The Church party was cast down, but not wholly discouraged. The bishops and their political leaders, banished as enemies of progress, fled to Europe, and sought
foreign sympathy as well as foreign bayonets to quench
the fires of liberty which had been kindled in their native
land, to banish the Bible and the right of free worship,
and to reinstate the old inquisitorial despotism by overthrowing republican institutions.
Through the influence of Labistida, the Archbishop
of Mexico, a " Council of Notables " was created, composed of nobles, friars, priests, sacristans, and military
men in the service of the Church. T h e pope, in the
meantime, had selected Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, and brother of the reigning sovereign, who, with
his wife, Carlotta, were most devout Catholics, to accept the crown of Mexico, with the titles of emperor
and empress.* Napoleon I I I . and Eugenie, being also
ardent as Catholics, were made partners in the scheme
of holding Mexico in the bonds of Romanism. All this
was done under the guise of collecting some money
claimed to be due to France from Mexico.
The "Council of Notables," of course, voted for
Maximilian, who accepted the position, was crowned E m peror, came to Mexico, and undertook the task of subjugating the people to his scepter, relying for support
upon a French army. H e began in the very start in the
school-room, which would have been wise had he begun
rightly. That Maximilian was sent to Mexico to be the
willing tool of the pope in propping up a rotten and
tottering structure is evident from one of his first official
* Maximilian was horn July 6, 1832. He was married July 27,
1857, to Princess Carlotta, daughter of Leopold I., King of Belgium.
He accepted the ciown of Mexico April 10, 1864. Having no
child, he adopted Augustus Iturbide, son of the Empeior Iturbide, a
native Mexican, as his heir,

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161

acts, the issuance of a notice to his Minister of Public
Instruction. That tells the whole story.
In that document he says : " Religion is a matter of
conscience for each individual, and the less the state
meddles with religious questions, the more faithful is it
to its mission. We have emancipated the Church and
conscience, and I desire to secure to the former the full
employment of her legitimate rights, and at the same
time entire liberty in the education of her priests, according to her own rules, without any state interference ;
but she has likewise duties which she must perform, such
as religious instruction, a duty in which the clergy of the
country unfortunately have taken little or no part
hitherto—consequently in your projects and proposals
you will adhere to the principle that religious instruction in the primary and secondary schools shall be given
by the priests of the parish using the books selected^by
the government/'
Thus a government foisted on the Mexican people by
the power of a foreign prince, purely monarchial and
Catholic, must decide what books shall be used in all
primary and secondary schools, and the teachers must
be priests of the parish. Alas for Mexico under such
a rule !
That the emperor inaugurated some works and reformed some abuses, and in several ways improved the
condition of the country, is not to be disputed. But all
that could not atone for the attempt made to overthrow
the Liberal party, the party of freedom and civil progress, which for half a century had been gaining in
power, and gave promise finally of the uplifting from
ages of degradation the whole Mexican people. At the
end of four years the flag of that pretended monarchy
was trailed in the dust, its armies vanquished, and its
leader slain.
11

IÔ2

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

T h e withdrawal of the French from Mexico was a
grievous disappointment to the Jesuits and the Roman
pontiff, as well as a most bitter day for the papal Church
in Mexico. They had fondly dreamed that through the
intervention of Catholic France the edict of the Juarez
government, which expelled the bishops and other ecclesiastics, and sequestrated to the government the property of the Church, would be rescinded, and Mexico
would once more come under absolute papal sway. It
was quite logical, too, that the Church party should expect this from an emperor who had been raised to the
throne and confirmed in its occupancy by the head of
the Roman hierarchy.
Napoleon I I I . attempted to secure the predominance
of the Latin race in Europe and America. To carry'
out his pet idea he had steadfastly opposed the accession of a Hohenzollern to the throne of Spain, which involved him in a disastrous war. The invasion of
Mexico for similar purpose was a most ignominious
failure. The Latin race holds to popery, and the world
is rapidly outliving that effete form of religion. On the
other hand, the Teutonic race holds to Protestantism,
and Protestantism means progress along all lines. Germany, Sweden, the United States, Norway, England,
are Teutonic.
The Teutonic races believe in free
thought in politics, science, religion, all things—the
Latin race believes in the pope !
Queretaro, the place of the final coljapse, has always
been a, Catholic stronghold. During the empire it was
fortified with earthworks, and garrisoned with troops
held in readiness for emergencies. T h e hill on which
the emperor and the two generals were shot is called
the Cerro de las Campanas, the scene of the last campaign of Napoleon's luckless protege, and the tragic
termination of the French invasion. The fatal spot is

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163

marked by three piles of stones, each surmounted by a
rude wooden cross.
The Mexicans erect monuments of some kind to all
their chieftains, whether liberal or conservative. Cities,
hotels, plazas, and States are named after them. Thus
the Plaza de Zaragoza, at Monterey; the Hotel Iturbide, in Mexico city; and other places. Vera Cruz is
Vera Cruz de Llave, so called after a general and governor of that name. Puebla, also, is honored with the
addition to its name of Zaragoza, the general who commanded the Mexican army at that place and won a
great victory over the French on the 5th of May, 1867.
Oaxaca (Wahacca) of Juarez is- named after the
Napoleon of Mexico, general and president, whose
tomb is in San Augustine Cemetery, the Père la Chaise
of the metropolis. That tomb is the most elegant
mausoleum in the republic.
Guadalupe has the addition of Hidalgo. The latter
is the most sacred Catholic shrine in all Mexico, and
yet bears the name of a priest who first raised the
standard of revolt in 1810 against Spain, and paved the
way for the incoming of liberalism and the Protestant
faith. He was the John Brown of his age and country,
and, like him, was put to death for treason against the
State. The Plaza Mayor, at San Luis Potosi, contains a
statue to his memory, and the State of Hidalgo was
named in his honor.
It is quite probable the time will come when Maximilian will be put into bronze, or marble; or some plaza
or State will add to its name de Maximiliano, especially
if the Aztec Indians gain the ascendency in the government. They are on the way up. Juarez was an Indian.
President Porfírio Diaz is almost a pure-blooded Indian.
There has been a tradition among these people for ages
that a deliverer would come to them some time from

IÓ4

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

the East. He would have a florid complexion and a
red beard. So when Maximilian ascended the throne
he answered the description, and hence was looked
upon by the Aztecs with great favor. The emperor
had a fine face and a long flowing sandy beard. It is
said that at the execution he requested the soldiers not
to shoot him in the face or beard. They acceded to his
request, and aimed their rifles so low that the vitals were
not touched, and consequently his death was a slow and
agonizing one.
Some accounts state that the Liberal government was
willing he should make his escape ; others contradict the
statement. The defenders of the republic argued that
Maximilian was created emperor with legitimate succession by the solemn act of the Roman pontiff, and as the
pope claims to be infallible, the dynasty of Maximilian
must forever rule Mexico. This the Liberals understood,
so they settled the question of the empire with the rifle,
which they regarded as the only way out of the difficulty.
It was heroic and very effectual practice.
No doubt there was power enough in France to maintain the empire in Mexico, had there not been another
element to be considered. The pope and Napoleon
moved upon Mexico at a time when they believed and
hoped that the American government was powerless to
interpose a substantial objection. But the war was over
and federal authority was supreme over all the States.
The United States government was willing that Mexico
should have its own choice, whether that should be monarchial or republican rule, but it did not believe that the
people of that land had been allowed by Napoleon the
free exercise of that right. The Latin-race theory of
the French emperor was very distasteful to the American people generally, and he was so informed by William
H. Seward, our Secretary of State. Simultaneously

T H E A D V E N T U R E R OF M I R A M A R .

165

sixty thousand 'troops of the Union were put in position
near the Rio Grande, and Napoleon I I I . was given to
understand that while we courted peaceful relations, yet
this government felt called upon to guarantee to a sister
nation the right to say whether their owii people or a
foreign potentate should bear rule.
For a time all the successes in arms seemed to be in
favor of the empire, while the government of Juarez
was reduced to a roving band, without any fixed capital,
But they asserted that they could continue the contest
until the troops of Maximilian were destroyed by casualties and sickness.
The United States government sympathized with the
republican interests in Mexico, but had to move with
caution, so as not to provoke hostilities with our old
friends, the French. In proof of our sympathy with the
Republic of Mexico as against the empire, our Secretary
of State wrote to the French Minister of Foreign Affairs,
stating that the u government of the United States had
long recognized, and does still continue to recognize, the
constitutional government of the United States of Mexico as the sovereign authority in that country, and Benito
Juarez as its chief. The government, at the same time,
equally recognizes the condition of war existing in Mexico between that country and France. We maintain absolute neutrality between the belligerents."
He also wrote to our Minister, Mr. Bigelow, at the
French court : " The presence and operations of the
French army in Mexico, and the maintenance of an
authority there resting upon force and not upon the
free-will of the people, is a cause of serious concern to
the United States."
The utterance of these sentiments on the part of
our government caused Napoleon and the pope to
waver in their plans, whereupon the French Minister

ióó

T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

of Foreign Affairs wrote to our government, saying:
" The French government wished the day to speedily
come when the last French soldier should leave Mexico
—that what was asked of the United States was that it
should not impede the consolidation of the new order
of things in Mexico, and the best guarantee would be
the recognition of the Emperor Maximilian by the federal government." T h e correspondence continued, and
Mr. Seward replied to the French Minister:
" The real cause of our national discontent is that the
French army, which is now in Mexico, is invading a domestic republican government there which was established by her people, and with whom the United States
sympathized most profoundly, for the avowed purpose
of suppressing it and founding upon its ruins a foreign
monarchial government, whose presence there, so long
as it should endure, could not but be regarded by the
people of the United States as injurious and menacing
to their own chosen and endeared republican institutions.
We have constantly maintained, and still feel bound to
maintain, that the people of every state on the American continent have a right to secure for themselves a
republican government if they choose, and that the interference of foreign states to prevent the enjoyment of
such institutions deliberately established is wrongful and
in its effects antagonistical to the free and popular government of the United States. Therefore the government of the United States hopes that France may find
it compatible with its best interests and its high honor to
withdraw from its aggressive attitude in Mexico within
some convenient and reasonable time, and leave the people of that country to the free enjoyment of the system
of republican government which they have established
for themselves."
Members of the French Legislature thought it strange

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167

that the French flag, which was once cordially greeted
in America, should be less so now, declaring at the same
time that <4 France was only in the habit of moving when
she found it to her own best interests to do so." Napoleon, in his address to the legislative bodies, affirmed
that " In Mexico the government, founded by the will of
the people, was being consolidated, the non-contents were
being vanquished, and that his troops were about to embark for home without compromising French interests."
This he uttered at a time when he knew that the whole
scheme of destroying the republic in Mexico was on the
eve of disastrous failure. Napoleon took the hint from
Mr. Seward's communications, and ordered a retreat,
leaving Maximilian to his fate. The French soldiers
44

Folded their tents like the Arabs,
And silently stole away."

I was informed by one who claimed to know, that after
the French troops had been withdrawn, and the cause
was utterly hopeless, an opportunity was quietly given
to the adventurer to flee the country, and that he did
descend the mountains to a villa on the way toward
Vera Cruz with that intention-, the railway having kept
an engine fired up and a train in readiness for some hours
to convey him to the coast, thus making his escape entirely feasible ; but he chose to return to the capital, still
hoping, it is said, that the experiment of the empire
might prove a success.
Before leaving Europe Maximilian had renounced all
title to the throne of his brother, Francis Joseph, of
Austria. Under such conditions a brave man would
struggle hard. Whatever else has been said of him, he
was not cowardly. He fled from the capital to Queretaro, where his small army was well fortified on the hill
commanding the city. He was at once besieged by the

i68

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

Liberal army, under General Escobedo, and sooner or
later must fall. T h e final culmination was hastened by
the treachery of a colonel in the army of the emperor.
Maximilian was taken prisoner, and his forces surrendered
to the Liberals.
A trial by court-martial followed, with conviction and
sentence of death. Every effort was made by his friends
to save his life. T h e seat of the republican government was then temporarily at San Luis Potosi, one hundred and sixty miles distant, and President Juarez was
appealed to for pardon, but in vain. T h e government
of the United States was also appealed to by Maximilian's friends, but it would not interfere. Napoleon had
deserted the cause. Francis Joseph, of Austria, his own
brother, could not come to his rescue. Carlotta was a
devout Catholic, and, from the beginning, was the real
instigator of the movement, in order to bolster up the
Romish Church of Mexico. At this trying time she was
in Europe, whither it was rumored she had gone with
fresh appeals to Napoleon and the pope for continued
aid, without which all would be lost. In that mission
she failed, and, with reason wrecked, was taken home to
her fa'her, the King of Belgium, in one of whose castles
she has been ever since. T h e hopeless maniac spends
her time playing the queen, talking with imaginary courtiers, and arranging her toilet for state dinners. T h e
last thing Maximilian penned, on the eve of his execution, was a letter to his absent wife :
" T o MY BELOVED C A R L O T T A : If God ever permits

you to recover and read this, you will learn the cruelty
of the fate which has not ceased to pursue me since your
departure for Europe. You carried with you my soul
and my happiness. Why did I not listen to you ? So
many events, alas ! so many unexpected and unmerited

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169

catastrophies have overwhelmed me, that I have no more
hope in my heart, and I wait death as a delivering angel. I die without agony. I shall fall with glory, like
a conquered king. If you have not the power to bear so
much suffering, if God soon reunites us, I shall bless
the divine and paternal hand which has so rudely
stricken us.
" Adieu ! Adieu ! Thy poor
MAX."
Thus ended the career of Maximilian, the adventurer
of Miramar, and with it Napoleon's Latin-race empire in
America.

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

C H A P T E R XV.
T H E PARIS OF T H E WESTERN

WORLD.

The parallel—Struggles with speech—A dilemma—Settling the
question—Politeness—Stiange extremes—Ice from the mountains—
Portales de Commercios—Street names—Church lotteries—Streetcars—Lilliputians—The washer-women—Burden-bearers—Fleet
of
foot—Street venders—Meal-time—Butter and bottom facts—Bmial
customs—Under the flags—Sleeping police—Days of knighthood—
Force of law—Beauty shut in—Spangles and spurs—Shopping—
Under electric lights—Pulquerias—Stupid and funny—*' Floating
gardens " that don't float

m

H E Paris of the Eastern World is in the valley of
the Seine; the Paris of the Western is in the
valley of the lakes. The population of the former is
nearly two millions; that of the latter about three hundred thousand. The Paris of the Old World is only two
hundred feet above the level of the sea; the Paris of
the New is nearly eight thousand feet above the sea.
The Paris of France is surrounded by low hills; the
Paris of Mexico crouches amid mountains, and in sight
of peaks which shoot up ten thousand feet above her
domes and spires. The Paris of the East was a collection
of mud huts in the days of the Cassais known as Lutetia;
the Paris of the West was built much in the same way,
and was called Tenochtitlan, the capital of Anahiiac.
The Paris on that side of the Atlantic was inhabited by a
tribe of rude Gauls, called the Parisii; the Paris on this
side by a roving band of half-savage Aztecs. The Paris
of the Gauls suffered severely from frequent invasions by

T H E PARTS OF T H E W E S T E R N W O R L D .

171

North-men; the Paris of the Aztecs from the fierce warriors of Spain. The French capital has been the scene of
'many sanguinary revolutions, when its streets were crimsoned with blood; the Aztec capital has not only witnessed many revolutions, but has several times yielded
to the might of invading armies. Paris the first, like
Paris the second, has long since passed out of the era
of raud huts into that of solid brick and stone; but
their resemblance lies mostly in the gay and easy-go life
which is characteristic of both. If Paris is France on
one side of the Atlantic, Mexico is Mexico oh the
other.
When I reached this old capital it was late in the
evening, and, as best I could, found my way to a hotel
with a very high-sounding name. By this time I was
beginning to grow discouraged, for I concluded that
either the people did not understand Spanish or I did
not.
It seemed to grow more difficult the more I tried to
speak it, I thought, or else the native stupidity was increasing every day. " Tres joliepour levoyageur" is true
so far as the country itself is concerned ; but to be
among people you can't converse with without an interpreter is not so pleasant. Of course, I committed some
blunders, I suppose, endeavoring to make myself understood. That much, in justice to the Mexicans, must be
frankly admitted. At a hotel, on one occasion, I wanted
to make my toilet for dinner, and asked the maid who
showed me to my quarters for some sopa. She looked
at me in the veriest wonderment, and said something in
her own language, pointing to another room just across
the court, which 1 did not understand. Again I looked
at my hands and said, with much emphasis, "Sopa!
sopa!"
I was actually teazing the poor little Aztec for
some soup with which to wash my hands. It was not to

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OF M E X I C O .

be wondered at that she pointed to the dining-room
across the way, and most likely said I would get the soup
over there. I should have called for some/#Ã?« instead.
She was a better linguist than I, and brought me the
jabon, and I ate my sopa in the form of a dish of frijoles
afterward. On arriving at a hotel in the city of Mexico
I was duly shown to a room and desired to change my
linen, but the luggage was not sent up from the office.
I waited quite a while, and at last rang for the valet de
chambre, a young man about twenty-five years old, and
told him to bring up my luggage. T h e Spanish word
for luggage had entirely escaped my recollection. He
stood ás still as a post, and said something back to me,
which, of course, I did not understand. Again I said,
in a serious way : " Go and bring up my luggage from
the office. I want to change my linen." But there he
stood staring at me. " Luggage ! Baggage ! " I shouted,
pointing to the head of the stair-way. H e only gazed
at me, opening his eyes a trifle wider each time. Next
I made signs, going through the motions of opening an
umbrella, which constituted a portion of my traveling
outfit. Then I said " zarape," the word for shawl, thinking he would take the hint; but no, he only stared at
me in the most perfectly dazed manner. I was becoming desperate by this time, and, seeing that he could not
take in the situation, I went through the motions of opening a valise and taking out some clean linen, pointing to
my soiled shirt bosom, and again directing my index
finger toward the head of the stair-way. But there he
stood, muttering something about senor. These fellows
will say " Si, seiior" " Yes, sir," when they don't know
what else to say. It was no use. Business had come
to a stand-still, and there was no way left but to go down
stairs myself for the satchel, shawl, and umbrella. But
while I was rehabilitating myself for the descent I took

T H E PARIS OF T H E W E S T E R N W O R L D .

173

occasion to say to him some things in language he never
would forget, providing he understood it.
" Do you know that you are a very stupid i\ztec ?"
" Si,senor," was his courteous reply.
" Why, you couldn't extract the cube root from a pile
of loose sand, nor pull up a yucca-tree by the roots from
a Montezuma swamp, if you should try."
And again he said, " Si, senor"
i%
You ought to be sent to a lunatic asylum until your
brain grows."
u
Si, sefior" was all I could get out of him in response
to the most eloquent speech I could possibly deliver.
And so, having by this time suitably arrayed myself, I
went down and brought up the luggage and showed it to
him. Then he actually smiled, for he saw the point, and
once more said, " Siy senor"
These peons of the " male
persuasion " ate more stupid than those of the opposite
sex. But, then, it only proves that women are brighter
than men the world over. There is one admirable trait
in the character of nearly all the people you meet here
—low as well as high—they are exceedingly suave.
They may rob you on the highway or pilfer your fieldglass, or do any thing else, but they are exceedingly polite. If a Mexican bandit were to cut your throat he, no
doubt, would do it politely, saying, I suppose, " Gradas,
seizor" or " Muchas gracias, senor," words one hears continually. A Mexican gentleman or lady is the embodiment of real politeness. The same is true of the children; they are taught to be courteous always and to every
body. It is most admirable. An English poet has said,
" What strange extremes are centered in our make."

What strange extremes are centered in the make up of
Mexican daily life ! 1 have not seen it equaled anywhere.. The cities of Europe in many instances look

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

fresh and new compared with those of Mexico. It is
one of the oldest-appearing countries in the world. To
travel here transports one, seemingly, to the far East,
and into the long ago. The architecture is Moorish,
and was brought here from Spain, the Moors having
copied the Romans. Hence the houses are built in the
old Roman style, with courts and flat roofs, azoteas.
The water pitchers, even, on the shoulders of the
women, are constructed after the old Oriental pattern.
The skin-bottle, the dress of the peon, also point to a
remote past. The very soil itself presents the signs of
age. Take the social life, as one sees it every day and
every-where in Mexico, especially in the cities, and it
presents the most marked extremes. There are millionaires who " live like princes," and anon myriads of
the most abject poverty-stricken people, who live on
tortillas and chile at a cost not exceeding six cents a
day. One sees ladies most elegantly dressed riding in
their carriages on the paseos, and then walking beside
them, on those same streets, bare-footed and ragged
women, bearing on their shoulders great bundles of
produce toward the markets. A great many women are
seen here in what fashionable society at home calls
" full dress; " that is, in a state of partial nudity.
In Mexico every body smokes. They smoke in the
street-cars, in the shops, and at the dinner table. I have
seen a man upon his knees in a chapel, before an image
of the Virgin, muttering his prayers with a lighted cigarette in his hand. Even old Popocatepetl himself,
though no longer a volcano, emits his gaseous and sulphurous fumes from a crater that once poured out burning lava, and with the fire in his mouth lighted the ships
at sea in their course. But Iztaccihualt, the " white
woman," as the word means, and whose summit is perhaps two or three score miles from that of Popocatepetl,

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175

doe% not smoke. If ever she did, it was a long time ago,
and she has reformed in her old age. Mexican ladies
do not follow her example, but his, for they nearly all
smoke. I have seen a beggar woman hold out her hand
and plead for a few centavos with a cigarette between
her teeth. And many a senorita may be seen sitting
behind her barred window wreathed in the smoke of
the cigarette. Mexican hotels never have parlors or
smoking-rooms. The guest can indulge his habit in the
dining-room, or the court, or the corridor, or anywhere
else. If the traveler goes into a restaurant he will find
some persons eating, and others, having finished their
meals, leaning back in their chairs smoking. " No matter about the ladies," a Mexican will say; " light your
cigar whenever and wherever you please/' About the
only offense you can offer them when you smoke, if you
do so, is not to pass around your cigars or cigarettes.
If you are sitting near a gentleman when he takes out
his cigar-case to light a fire, he will most likely turn
and offer you one, whether he knows you or not, and
if you do not accept his courtesy he will regard it as
almost an affront.
If, however, in a very pleasant
way, and with a polite bow, you say, u Muc/ias gradas,
senor," he will be satisfied.
The city of Mexico is the Washington of the Estados
Unidos del Stir—the United States of the South—and
must not be taken as a representative Mexican city, for
it is built more after the fashion of the cities of Europe
than any other in the republic. There are some portions
of it which remind one of Paris. The Alameda, though
not so large, is not unlike the Bois de Bologne of the
French capital. At least it is about as easy to lose
yourself in the one as the other.
In all Mexican cities one meets some things which
are alike, for instance, the great number of one-storied

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OF M E X I C O .

buildings with flat roofs. There are some adjustments
which come quite naturally. In a region of earthquakes
people, by the instinct of self-preservation, would guard
against lofty buildings, because of the danger of their
toppling over in time of terrestrial oscillations. Seven
stories and earthquakes would not go well together.
Then, again, the very thick walls would prove to be a
further protection against such calamities. I have seen
walls built of adobe, stone, or brick, nearly a yard in
thickness, especially in the mountainous districts. And
besides, in a hot, dry climate there must be protection
against heat, and this is secured by the very thick walls.
The city of Mexico, once the famous capital of the
Montezumas, lies in the valley of Anahuac, surrounded
by elliptical plains, inclosed by ridges of basaltic and
porphyritic rocks, and at a remote distance engirt with
magnificent mountains, two of which, some sixty or seventy miles distant, were once active volcanoes, and stood
guard over ancient Anahuac, though it is a good while
since they emitted their fires. The city covers a number
of square miles, and is perfectly level. Go in what direction you may from the banks of Texcuco to the
frowning bastions of Chapultepec, and the great "Snow
Mountains " are ever before you. All the main thoroughfares of the capital center in the Plaza Mayor. Two
great stone aqueducts bring water from remote springs
into the city, where from central basins the aguadores,
or water-carriers, convey it to the dwellings in earthen
vessels for a fixed sum per day or load, according
to the amount used or bargain made, very much as
dairymen's carts deliver milk to the inhabitants of
American cities. T h e water supply in the city of
Mexico is sufficient to allow on the average forty gallons per day to each individual. Water is plenty, but
cold water scarce, while ice-water is hardly used at all.

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It is not much wonder, when all the ice is brought from
Popocatepetl, sixty or more miles away, transported
down the mountain on the backs of peons. It costs
the consumer when delivered about ten cents a pound.
One grows very thirsty at this high altitude, and
drinking does not seem to satisfy. T h e lips often become parched and cracked from atmospheric causes.
T h e stranger must guard against this by the use of
local remedies. A recent French traveler writes, rather
exaggeratingly, of this city :
" Mexico is a grand city, in the Spanish style, with an
air more inspiring, more majestic, more metropolitan
than any city of Spain, except Madrid, crowned by numerous towers, and surrounded by a vast plain bounded
by mountains. Mexico reminds one somewhat of Rome.
Its long streets, broad, straight, and regular, give it an
appearance like Berlin. It has some resemblance to
Naples and Turin, yet with a character of its own. It
makes one think of various cities of Europe, while it
differs from all of them. It recalls all, repeats none."
" The second day," says Mr. Ward, England's former
Minister to Mexico, " made converts of us all; in the
course of it we visited most of the central parts of the
town, and, after seeing the great plaza, the cathedral,
the palace, and the noble streets which communicate
with them, we were forced to confess, not only that
Humboldt's praises did not exceed the truth, but that
among the various capitals of Europe there were few
that could support with any advantage a comparison
with Mexico."
T h e climate does not vary much. It is like a constant recurrence of May and June days—never intensely
hot, and never severely cold. In the United States
the weather is a very convenient theme for conversation when people have nothing else to talk about. But
12

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in Mexico it is never discussed. I once said to a
fellow-traveler :
" This is a pleasant day, sir."
" O yes," he replied, " all days are pleasant here.'
I saw the point.
This quaint old city has many objects of interest : its
hundred and one venerable churches, used and not
used; its great metropolitan cathedral ; its public drives,
thronged with the elite of the city in carriage and
saddle ; its Alameda, with winding paths, broad, smooth,
clean, under the shade of the beautiful eucalyptus-trees.
One can never forget the hours spent amid such surroundings. But these are not all. Yonder is Chapultepec not very far away, looking out on you from the
tops of trees that were old when Cortez slaughtered the
innocents. There is, indeed, much to interest the tourist in this Paris of the Western World. One never tires
of strolling about through los portales de cqpimerciosy
which consist of a succession of arcades around three
or four sides of a large block of buildings where every
body walks and talks, and buys and sells cigars, canes,
pulque, jewelry, dolls, notions, dry goods, etc. These
portales are'to the city of Mexico what the Palais Royal
is to Paris.
In a city containing so much to see it was a question where to begin, so I started out on my journey
to hunt up the curious part first. I was at once struck
with the fact that each block along a given street had
a different name, so that I soon became bewildered and
had to call to my aid a policeman to extricate me.
Some streets will have the same appellation for several
squares. Take the principal street for example, the
Calle de Plateros, which begins on the Grand Plaza
where the palace stands? running to the statue of
Charles IV. õf Spain. Each block along that street has

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a name of its own, or there may be several blocks of
the same name with numerals after them, as ia, 2da,
3ra, etc., which greatly confuses a stranger in trying to
find any body, for you must not only know the street
but the name or the number of the particular block
where he resides.
Here is a list of some of the principal names of
streets. For instance, think of walking along " Crown
of Thorns Street," or " Blood of Christ Street," or
" Street of the Holy Ghost," or crossing a stream on
" H o l y Ghost Bridge."
The Catholic Church has
also stamped itself in such names as " Mother of
Sorrows Street/' and " Street of the Sacred Heart." At
every turn you are importuned to buy a lottery ticket.
Men, women, and children are employed to sell them.
The principle lottery is that of " Divina Providencia."
Along the streets are seen very attractive signs. Over a
ladies' fancy store I noticed one which read " La Tentacion "—the temptation—a slight hint at woman's love of
beautiful things. Over the door-way of one saloon I saw
" El Abysmo," hell; over another, " El Delirio "—translated into English—the delirium. Both were appropriately labeled. Other places are more poetically named,
such as, " The Ancient Glories of Mexico," " The Terrestrial Paradise," etc. Firm names are not often seen over
store fronts. Fancy again comes into play, as in English,
" T h e Surprise," " The City of Paris," " T h e Spring
Time," " T h e Pearl," or " T h e Emerald." Over the
door of a shoe store I saw " The Foot of Venus." Their
boats on the canal bear such names as " L a Ninfa Encantadora," the enchanting nymph; " L a Flor," the
flower, etc. The same is true of names of men, as " St.
John of God Gonzales," or " L a Santíssima Trinidad
Smith "—Most Holy Trinity Smith, if there are any
Smiths in Mexico.

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

The street-car system is first-class. The cars do not
go singly, but in trains of three, and are classified, as on
other railways, into first and second grades. They run
half a block- apart, and each one is drawn by its own
mule. Instead of the self-registering bell-punch, every
car has, besides the driver, two men, one to sell the
tickets and another to take them up, thus showing the
need of putting a check on dishonesty. First-class
fares are sometimes as high as twenty-five cents, especially when the distances are long ; but the average is a
medioy or six and a quarter cents. Second-class fares
are always one half the amount of the first-class. The
drivers carry horns and blow them when they approach
street-crossings.
Conductors, like nearly every body
else, carry revolvers in plain sight.
It seemed very odd to see little girls ÍYSÍQ to seven years
old trotting along the streets wearing full-length dresses,
causing them to appear like a race of Lilliputians. Men
were going about the streets bearing on their shoulders
invalids and cripples to give them an airing in the plaza
or Alameda. Never before did I see human beings on'
all-fours wandering around like dogs. I witnessed two
such poor deformed creatures perambulating about one
day, and a most sickening spectacle it was.
These people have no arrangement worthy the name for
extinguishing fires. In cities built of stone and brick so
universally, fires are of very rare occurrence. It is next
to impossible to burn a building whose floors, stair-ways,
casings, and roof are of stone or brick.
A drug
store burned during the time I was in the city, the fire
department being entirely powerless to extinguish the
flames. When the fire signal is given nothing is ever in
readiness.
Never in my life before was I so embarrassed on account of my soiled linen. Washing is done here in a

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manner as trying to one's patience as to the articles
cleansed. T h e washer-woman who undertakes the job
of renovating your garments carries them away to some
stream, pond, or canal, and with cold water, minus soap,
rubs them between two stones awhile, and hangs them
up to dry. Yet I must say that they looked very
well, all things considered. My washing was kept for
three full weeks on one occasion, though I repeatedly
sent for it, and a portion of it has not been returned yet.
The price of wood ranges from $16 to $25 per cord,
while imported coal costs $25 a ton ; hence, if the
weather is cool, you must stay in-doors and protect
yourself by additional clothing, for there are no methods
in use for warming apartments. It is commonly remarked that there is not a stove, grate, or furnace in
all Mexico. The cooking in the cities is done over
earthen or brick ovens heated with charcoal. T h e
smoke and gas escape through openings above them.
But in huts in the interior, the universal " cooking
stove " is the co-mal, a mere earthen pot, simple and
^inexpensive, as well as portable. T h e natives have a
belief that warming the atmosphere renders it unwholesome. It certainly must increase its rareness.
In
looking from some cathedral tower or lofty azotea
the absence of chimneys is a noticeable feature.
The burden-bearers are before you at every turn.
They carry on their backs almost every thing. For
s
generations much of the labor of Mexico has been performed by these human machines, comparatively few
carts or horses being employed. Men carry wardrobes
on their heads, pianos on their backs; stone, barrels of
water, or pulque, and other heavy articles, are borne
thus for long distances through the heat and over the
sands with seemingly but little weariness. I saw one of
these peons carrying twenty-four chairs tied together as

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one load on his back one evening, and another carrying
two bureaus or chests of drawers bound together back
to back. He was crossing the Plaza de Armas at a
jog-trot under his heavy burden, but it evidently tested
his powers of endurance. These people are trained
porters, and will often go eighty or a hundred miles
to market bearing their heavy loads of produce,
which will bring them only a dollar or two at most.
They keep up this gait hour after hour and day after
day. If the Mexican is an expert rider, he is equally
an expert footman. Indian couriers, through their
knowledge of paths and by-ways, sometimes make
better time between distant cities than the regular
mail coaches. The Aztec Indian is contented with
the little he gets, for, in his simple mode of life,
his wants are few, the principal of which is his favorite pulque. Although the Indians live in villages
in the interior, in the capital they dwell in suburbs
distinct from the whites, though they mingle with them
freely in the streets—a people within a people, interfering in none of the affairs of the upper and governing
class. Their conversation and their deportment are
humble and obedient.
Their self-abasement is so
marked, that they accept and apply to themselves the
reproaches of the whites. A white man is to one of
these Indians a gente de razony a man of intelligence ;
while the Indian is called a gente sin razon, a man without intelligence. And he accepts the situation.
T h e Mexican Indians, who transport goods from the
interior, are so trained that they will tire the strongest
horse in equal time and distance, carrying on their
shoulders at the same time from one hundred to one
hundred and fifty pounds weight; and it is an actual
fact, amply vouched for, that after making long trips
thus heavily loaded, on their return they will fill their

T H E P A R I S OF T H E W E S T E R N W O R L D .

1S3

baskets with stones, their strained and distorted muscles seeming to require the burden to which they had
been accustomed.
Women in great numbers sit around in the scorching
sun, on the sides of the streets, using often the curbstones for seats, sometimes with nothing to protect them
from the sun's rays, selling frtnts, meats, drinks, dukes
(sweets), of which they have many varieties, etc., or
they squat around in their humble door-ways, with the
heads of their children in their laps, searching after the
—secrets of nature !
As before stated, they are a nation of smokers, but the
filthy habit of chewing is almost unknown to them. The
Mexican is not always the most polished sort of an individual, but one thing may be spoken to his credit, he
does not befoul the floor of his jaca/ with tobacco juice»
Their hotels are not like our own of the higher grade,
which generally have ample bathing accommodations.
If you want to take a bath here you must go to a public
bath-house. You will find them every-where in the
large cities, and their appointments are first-class. In
the best hotels in the cities travelers are waited upon by
men servants, but in the villages by women, There are
no reading-rooms, with files of newspapers, to accommodate the traveling public. They are kept on the European plan, and sometimes you must walk a block or two
to find a good fonda, or restaurant. You take your pan
y cafe, bread and coffee, in the morning at seven or eight/
eat your breakfast at eleven to twelve, and dine at four
to five o'clock. Some of these fonditas in the city of
Mexico are very fine indeed; others are very wretched,
as I found out by experience. One of the scarcest
and most expensive articles, as well as one of the poorest, is that great American luxury—-butter, and costs
about one dollar a pound here. It is churned in the

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

skin of an animal of some kind, a sheep, hog, or goat,
out of which the beast has been extracted by some
process. The skin is made milk-tight, and is filled with
cream, and then dumped up and down by a spring pole,
or rolled about over the ground by the children until the
" b u t t e r comes."
One who is fond of getting at bottom facts can always
have the satisfaction of knowing the color of the creature
whose skin formed the churn by the color of the hairs in
the butter, for in the process of construction the outside
of the animal becomes the inside of the churn.
Funerals are conducted in a way curious, enough to an
American. In one instance the street-car answers the
place of hearse for the corpse, and carriages for the
pall-bearers and mourners. If the family is very poor,
the dead is carried through the streets to the place of interment on the shoulders of men. Those who can afford it bury their dead in coffins; but poor people cannot do this, for, owing to the great scarcity of timber,
coffins are very expensive. There are persons who keep
them to hire, and, in such cases, when the cemetery is
reached the body is transferred to a cheap, rough box,
or wrapped in manilla cloth or a blanket, and thus
buried. The coffin is then returned to the owner, to go
again upon a similar errand. T h e tombs of the wealthy,
however, in the fine cemeteries, are both elaborate and
beautiful.
- The hack accommodations are good. The hackmen
are all under the most careful police surveillance, the
rates being fixed by law and regulated according to the
condition of the vehicle and the horses. Each hack
carries a small tin flag. If the flag be green, the price
is $1 50 an hour, as only he whose carriage is new and
horses good and harness genteel is permitted by the authorities to sport a green flag. If the flag be blue, the

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price is $1 an hour, with a corresponding diminution of
style. If you cannot afford so high a price as $1 an
hour, you can select a carriage with a white flag, and pay
seventy-five cents an hour. But you can go even below
this, and ride under a red flag at fifty cents an hour,
where you have reached bottom price, and if you escape
going to the bottom before the ride is over you may consider yourself a lucky fellow.
The capital, as well as all other principal cities, is
under good police regulations. The police force comprises three grades: first, the roundsmen, who patrol the
streets on horseback, armed with carbines and sabers,
closely resembling cavalrymen. There are also patrolmen who, on foot, have their regular beats. Besides
these there is another grade still, who take their positions through the night at the street crossings. They
carry lanterns, placing them in the intersections of the
thoroughfares, and then find a place near by where they
can sit down and go to sleep! In this there is an advantage, however; a policeman can always be found quickly,
for, whether awake or asleep, he is near his lantern.
H e carries a club and revolver, and, clad in scanty linen
and sombrero, with his zarape thrown over his shoulders,
and his rusty old-fashioned cavalry saber dangling at
his side, is quite a formidable-looking figure. I have
perambulated the streets of Mexican cities far into the
night, and must say that they are very well governed.
A recent writer in a popular magazine says :
" Here are no drunken riots, no saloon brawls, little
thieving, and less murder within corporate limits. The
least disorderly action, even loud talking in the streets,
causes prompt arrest, and to be suspected of being a
disturber of the public peace is almost as dangerous to
personal liberty as actual commission of crime. It is so
little while since revolutions were the order of the hour

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

that Mexico has not yet become accustomed to the situation, and modified her laws to suit a time of peace.
An American finds himself environed here, on every
hand, by laws which he cannot comprehend. For instance, any one carrying a package upon the streets
after eight P. M. is liable to arrest. A person either
walking or driving after eleven o'clock at night is accosted by the watchman with the query: Quien es ? or
Donde vive ?—1 Who are you ?' or ' Where do you live ? '
Receiving no reply, the vigilant guardian of the peace
may shoot if he pleases. This is rather severe on those
luckless Americans who do not even understand the language, and whose replies are generally more forcible than
elegant. I never heard of the law being carried into full
effect, but, nevertheless, it stands upon the statutes, and
is liable to be enforced. In Mexico prisoners are never
pampered, as sometimes by over-zealous philanthropists
in our Estados Unidos del Norte.
Here the penitentiaries
are bare of all but the merest necessaries—tortillas for
food, a stone bench for a bed, unremitting toil, and most
rigorous discipline."*
The police are not only vigilant, they are equally polite. A policeman will stop a street-car and assist a lady
to enter it with a gallantry that reminds one of the days
of knighthood. If a man commits a crime in any principal city in the republic, he must either flee the country or pay the penalty. An instance came to my notice
illustrating this. In February, 1869, a prominent lawyer
in the city of Mexico was killed by one who entertained
toward him some enmity. The murderer was arrested,
tried, convicted, and sentenced to be shot, but escaped
and fled to France. H e remained away ten years, and
then, thinking that his crime had been forgotten or
would be condoned, returned. But he was soon in the
* Mrs. F . B. Ward.

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clutches of the law, and, after ten years of voluntary
exile, was executed by shooting—the mode of capital
punishment adopted by the Mexicans.
On pleasant afternoons, and, excepting in the rainy
season—there are but few unpleasant ones—carriage
driving and horseback riding are the order of the day.
The great boulevard, which was laid out under the
reign of Maximilian, the * Paseo de la Reforma, or
" Empress Drive," so-called in honor of Carlotta,
and which extends from the Alameda to the castle
of Chapultepec, a distance of three miles, is the
great driveway of the capital.
It is said that the
carriages usually contain the culture and beauty of
the metropolis. As they are generally closed, it
would be hard to disprove the statement. I never saw
a light carriage-—a phaeton, for instance—in Mexico.
Ladies do not ride on horseback to any extent, and if
they do in individual instances, social etiquette requires
them to be accompanied by a near relative. But with
men horseback riding is a national amusement. In the
cooler hours of the evening or morning, the streets are
full of horsemen in some sections. The gentlemen are
very fastidious about their riding attire. A broadbrimmed sombrero costs all the way from three dollars to
two hundred and fifty dollars, and is the main feature
of the equestrian outfit.
In that the caballero is
lavish of expense. If he earns fifteen dollars a month
he will spend three months' wages on a hat! With
his silver-trimmed sombrero, his tight leather trousers,
with rows of silver spangles up and down the outer
seam, his gayly embroidered jacket, scarlet sash, sword,
revolvers, and silver spurs, he presents a very striking
appearance. Nor must his saddle suffer in the comparison with these other gay trappings. His silver-mounted
bridle must match the silver-trimmed sombrero. All

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

must be in harmony regardless of expense. Such an outfit costs at the highest, including the horse, about a
thousand dollars. They are expert horsemen. I saw
one in Monterey lose his hat in the wind, and putting
the spurs into the sides of his fractious steed, swept
round in a circle to where it was lying in the street, and
swinging over the saddle, while the horse was in active
motion, picked it up and placed it on his head with the
utmost ease.
The shopping is always done by ladies of the upper
class in carriages. They do not enter the stores ; but
have the goods brought out to them for inspection or
purchase. In some of the larger and more fashionable
establishments parlors are fitted up, where a lady can
sit at ease in seclusion and have the goods brought to
her, if she chooses.
Etiquette is carried so far that a gentleman will not
be seen on the street with any sort of a package in his
hand. He can carry a book, however, provided it is not
wrapped in paper. Only foreigners and common people stand at counters to make purchases or carry parcels
to their homes or hotels. Goods are not delivered at
the residences of purchasers by the merchants, as is customary in American cities. If a package is too bulky to
take with you in your hand or carriage, a licensed carrier
will deliver it at your expense.
Each carrier wears on his breast a brass badge, like
that of a policeman, which contains his registered
number and is the sign of his office. If he does not
deliver the goods promptly, and in good condition,
he is liable to be reported at the police head-quarters,
where he is heavily fined. But if he fails to find your
residence, or if any mistake has occurred in the directions given him, it is his duty to take the goods to the
police head-quarters, where the purchaser can recover

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them, as well as learn the reason why they were not
delivered.
In the less pretentious places of business there is but
little system in the classification of goods—silks, cottons,
and woolens are mixed together somewhat indiscriminately. . Shopping, therefore, requires great patience.
A lady informed me that she went one day to buy a
pair of gloves. The clerk pulled open a drawer in which
were shoes, corsets, ribbons, and gloves. There being
none to fit, he kept on searching until he found some in
another part of the store.
The Plaza Mayor is the great rendezvous in the
evening. Here the crowds gather, the old and the
young, the rich and the poor, a promiscuous mass.
A military band discourses music several evenings
in the week, under the brilliant electric lights, and
finer music is seldom heard. The scenes are not so rich
and gay as those of the Paris of France; but a larger variety
of face, form, color, and picturesqueness appears in the
Paris of Mexico. You do not see crowds sitting around
under the street awnings sipping wine and gossiping with
each other, as in the French capital; but go to the pulquerias, where the national beverage is sold, and the crowds
will be seen, gay and hilarious, in true Mexican style.
There is a great amount of drunkenness in this old
city, but not much rowdyism, owing to the vigilance of
the police and the nature of the intoxicant. People who
indulge in too much pulque—and a very little is too
much for one's good—are rendered too stupid to quarrel and fight. Pulque is the daily beverage of the
rank and file >of the people. It is said that if a peon
earns a dollar and a half, he gives one dollar to the
priest, spends forty-five cents for pulque, and provides for his family with the remaining five c e n t s !
Even that is not so bad as when some Americans spend

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

all their earnings for vile whisky, and leave their families to shift for themselves.
Of course I had read of the floating gardens, the
Chinampas of the historians of the olden times, and was
eager to see them. So I went up the Santa Anita
canal adjoining the Paseo de la Viga on a feast day, and
edged my way amid a motley throng of all ages, grades,'
conditions, and complexions. T h e banks of the canal
were lined with people, and the waters were covered
with boats of every description—long boats, short boats,
flat boats, clean and dirty boats. The jolly crowd sang
songs, played on rude instruments, laughed, danced,
smoked, flirted, and drank pulque. Mothers sat about,
crooning something to their mahogany colored babies,
boys played with the dogs, and tried to push each other
into the water. There was no quarreling and fighting,
but all was hilariousness and rude gayety. But where
were the far-famed "floating gardens," these wildernesses of sweets and blossoms, far surpassing the
Alcinas and Morganas of the sunny land of Italy, which
are said to have dotted the lakes of Anahuac, three
hundred years ago? Alas! like Rachel's children,
" they are not." But, doubtless, they did once exist, and
were formed of reeds and rushes and the branches of
young trees woven firmly together, and covered over
with alluvial earth sufficiently deep to allow of the
growth of vegetation, flowers, and very small trees.
They were even capable of sustaining small huts for the
residence of the gardener. Remains of them still exist.
I walked over one of them, but it did not float, though
I could feel it tremble, under my weight. T h e poetry
of the " floating gardens " of Montezuma remains, but the
gardens have ceased to float.

W A N D E R I N G S ALONG O L D PATHS.

191

C H A P T E R XVI.
WANDERINGS ALONG OLD PATHS.
An old tradition—Brave barbarians—Sacrificial stone—A royal
seat—Sculptures and paintings—A vandal act—Various institutions
—An old canal—Entering a pawn-shop—" Raising the Wind"—
First train to the United States—Solemn smiles—A new conquest—
Enterprise that failed—Egyptian plows, bottles, and brooms—
Preferring the smoke—In no haste—Extremes—Too many houses.

m

O walk about the streets of the city of Mexico is
to wander along old paths. Ages before Columbus discovered America the valley of Anahuac thronged
with a great population, and Mexico, derived from the
word Mexitli, the name of the Aztec war-god, was a
city of rude grandeur, if we may credit the chroniclers
of the olden times. The ancient city was founded by
the Aztecs, who marched into this valley from the north
after suffering defeat in a battle with the Colhuans, a
rival tribe. An oracle had foretold them, as tradition
relates, that they should found a city when they came
to a spot where an eagle would be seen standing upon a
rock. It was on the shores of Lake Texcuco—now
spelled T-e-x-co-co—that the long-sought eagle was
seen perched upon a branch of the nopal cactus growing out of the crevice of a rock, and holding in its
beak a serpent. This is the origin of the Mexican
national coat of arms, which is stamped on its coin and
inscribed on its banners. Into this ancient capital
Cortez entered in 1519, and from which he was compelled to retreat in seven months. Desperate and

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OF M E X I C O .

daring, he re-collected and reorganized his forces, and
again attacked and captured the Aztec stronghold.
T h e brave barbarians, who could only defend themselves with rudest implements of warfare, held out
against his horse and cannon for seventy-five days,
fighting with the courage of, despair, but at last were
vanquished, and the Spaniard was left master.
To write all that might be said about this old capital
would require the space of a volume. Much, therefore,
must be passed over in silence. The sights are various.
There is the Academy of San Carlos and School of Fine
Arts, with numerous sculptures and paintings. As one
enters the court, or patio, he sees a large collection of
images—hideous, monstrous-looking things, which could
only have been produced by a people possessed of the
very crudest idea. That which attracted my attention
first was the piedra de los sacrificios, the " sacrificial
stone," a basaltic rock, circular in form, and of enormous weight. It measures about nine feet in diameter,
and is three feet thick. Cut all over its rim are hieroglyphical representations of the subjugation of an inferior
by a superior people. At the time of the conquest its
destruction was practically impossible, hence it was
buried in the main plaza, where it was found in 1791,
since which time it has been preserved as a curious
relic of the past. In its center is a deep cavity with an
outlet seemingly begrimed with stains through which
flowed the blood of the thousands of victims said to
have been offered upon it to the Aztec idol, Teoyaomiqui.
Whether the idol or the name was most hideous, the
reader must judge. A few paces off is the stone yoke
used in securing the victims while their hearts were
being torn from the quivering flesh, the priests making the incisions between the ribs of the doomed victims with obsidian knives. To be appreciated it must be

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seen. In a room off the patio, under lock and key, is
preserved, as a curious object, the state coach of the
Emperor Maximilian, the «grandest vehicle in America.
I opened the door and took my seat on the crimson
plush where royalty once sat. When I dismounted the
attendant assured me that it was against the rules to do
as I had done, but he did not refuse to accept the small
piece of money I gave him, not as a bribe, but as an
expected fee. After wandering about among the curious old images of beings with hideous forms and faces,
such as feathered serpents, and certain nondescript animals in stone, dug out of the earth all over Mexico,
relics of a rude and barbarous age, and brought here
for the inspection of the curious, I entered the academy
proper. *
It was with no small degree of interest that I had
sought the large building near the great Plaza de Armas,
where may be seen the fruits of native as well as of foreign artistic genius. When I thought of the numerous
revolutions which had diverted the Mexican mind from
themes of peace to those of war, and the many revolutions which had drained her treasury, it was something
of a surprise to find any thing worthy the name of a picture. The first place entered was the gallery of sculpture,
where, as usual, may be seen a great collection of Greek
and Roman figures, or rather copies of them. The usual
hideous and impossible things one sees in such places,
and which, by common consent, are called "beautiful,"
are displayed here in plaster. They are awaiting transfer
to marble when the expense can be afforded. But passing to the upper part of the building, I was pleased to
find nearly a dozen rooms whose wails were overhung
with paintings, many of which were worthy of any art
gallery. Some of them represent events in the history
of Mexico, from the invasion of Cortèz until the present
13

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

time, while others were evidently intended to preserve
certain legendary scenes in ancient Aztec land. One
painting particularly interested me—the dead Aztec;
or, u Friar Las Casas protecting the Aztecs." I suppose it was intended to show the horrors of the conquest. Most of these paintings are the work of Spanish
artists, and were, doubtless, the property of the Church
at one time. At the seizure of the convents by the government these pictures fell into the hands of the lovers
of art, and now go to constitute the National Gallery.
Among those which are most striking is the " Dead '
Monk." It is a wonderful conception, and a most impressive Catholic painting. Several " Hagar and Ishmaels," by different artists, are there. Another, a
" Dante and Virgil gazing down into Hades," is so real
that, as one said, it seems as if their cheeks would
scorch from the fires. Many of the pictures are a little
too dark, owing to the too free use of bitumen. " Columbus Contemplating the S e a " and the landscapes of
the Sierra valleys are among the most attractive. T h e
Mexicans, with all their failings, have an eye to the
beautiful, as the flowers and the picturesque costumes
of the people and the colored geometrical forms on the
outside of their buildings give ample evidence, though
I did not admire the latter. This School of Fine Arts
—'the Academy of Sari Carlos—has been in existence
for over a hundred years, and yet these people are
far from being patrons of high art. The average Mexican house is satisfied with the cheapest sort of pictures,
providing they represent some old saints or the Virgin
Mary.
The brightest paintings one sees generally
are those on the walls of the pulque shops—the native
" gin-mills."
Here the Holy Virgin is brought out
arrayed in the most gorgeously colored robes. The earliest Mexican paintings are the best, for they were

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195

nearest to what is called the Renaissance period. Mexico ought to be a land of artists, for the time was when
the Aztecs had no other way of communicating their
unspoken ideas than by picture-writing.
But, alas!
when the Spanish invaders came, bringing with them
their religion, the first bishop, Zumarraga, thought it
would aid him in overthrowing the whole religious
system of the inhabitants if their pictures and images
were all demolished, and, accordingly, he ordered
a universal destruction of all manuscripts and Aztec
hieroglyphs. Only a few specimens escaped this vandal
act, but for which some definite information of the origin
and history of the peoples who had dwelt amid the
mountains of Mexico since the earliest times might now
be in possession of the world. That act was a very
zealous one, but it was a " zeal without knowledge."
Segrade and Obregon excelled in portrait painting.
Some of their works are on the walls of the Hall of Embassadors in the National Palace. One of the first of
native artists was Cabrera, in whose veins flowed pure
Indian blood. The original Mexican pictures, like the
pronunciamentos of her various revolutionary generals,
are too grandiose. They magnify their subjects far
too much.
Several works of the old masters are
pointed out here; but whether they are genuine or not
the ordinary tourist has really no means of knowing.
" That is a Murillo," " This is a Ribera," " Yonder is a
Rembrandt," the guide will say. Yes, but I am a little
like the man who always goes to sleep during the sermon, knowing that his minister is strictly orthodox. I
know that if these pictures were painted by the old masters, as represented to me, they must be all right, whether
I can see it or not. It was Mexico that I was studying,
and so I wanted to see what Mexican artists could do.
Of the natives there have been a number who excelled,

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

but none were equal to Louis and José Juarez, whose
works, it seems, would do credit to any nation or to any
age. Among these I particularly noted the " Good
Samaritan," the " Hebrews by the Waters of Babylon,"
and " Noah Receiving the Olive-Branch." Valesco's
sienna colored "Valley of M e x i c o " is a painting of
which one never tires.
The city boasts of a Mining School of high grade, a
Museum, a College of Medicine, a Military College, a
School of Agriculture, a Conservatory of Music and
Oratory, Geographical and Historical Societies, Society
of Architecture, Government Mint, and Custom-house.
Also a House of Correction, a general prison, and
hospitals for infants, insane, and blind.
The'old Aztec capital was situated in the midst of the
highest salt-water lake in the world—Texcoco, which
received the overflow of five other lakes that were above
it, and hence the city was exposed to occasional submergence until a suitable outlet was made through the
mountains which border the valley on the north. I
passed through this desague, the cut or " T a j o of Nochistongo," on my first entrance into the city, when the
thought 4carae into my mind with a good deal of force
that Mexico is much older than my own country. All
things considered, that was one of the most remarkable hydraulic operations ever undertaken by man, and
wras begun thirteen years before the pilgrims landed on
Plymouth rock. It is over twelve miles in length, three
or four hundred feet deep and wide, and the excavations
were all carried away on the backs of peons.
Walking along one of the main thoroughfares, I noticed
a sign which attracted my attention, and so unhesitatingly walked in to see what I could. I found myself in a
pawn-shop. It was not that I had any thing to pawn
that took me there, but rather curiosity to gratify. No

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197

one visiting the city of Mexico can afford to miss seeing
this curiosity shop, for such it is. This great national
institution is called the Monte de Piedad^ and has
branches in different cities through Central Mexico. It
was founded for a beneficent purpose. I was shown the
first entry upon its books, which bears the date of 1775,
in which a loan of forty dollars was made by a gentleman on a set of diamonds.
The intention of the
founder was a good one, that of keeping the people who
by circumstances might at times be forced to pawn
personal articles to obtain temporary relief, out of the
hands of swindlers, whose ulterior object would be to
get entire possession of the property pawned at a fraction of its value. This institution loans its money at
the rate of twelve per cent, per annum, and carries the
property pawned for eight months.
Every article
entered is appraised carefully by an officer of the institution, and if at the final sale it does not bring the
amount of the original debt and interest, the appraiser
is held personally responsible for the difference. There
is not much danger of his appraising goods at too high a
figure. Money in some amount can be loaned on any
article of personal property from a pocket kriife to a
piano or coach. People pawn their clothing, which is
common, silver-ware, furniture, pistols, or any thing
else to obtain money, and often to enable them to attend
the opera or a bull-fight.
I was in the city of Mexico when the first through
train started on its way for Chicago and New York.
It consisted of a locomotive, tender, baggage car, diningroom car, and three parlor coaches. About five thousand people, more or less, gathered at the depot of the
Mexican Central Railroad to witness the departure
of that train. The fare, including every thing, wras
$150. T h e event signaled a new era in Mexican

iç&

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

history. The capital of the Estados Unidos del Norte
connected by rail with that of the Estados Unidos del Sur
shows that the world moves. It was an occasion which
might well call out a crowd, and suggest the firing of
cannon and other popular demonstrations. But such
was not the case. A few handkerchiefs were waved
and a few adios spoken, and that was all. The Americans in the city were generally present, and hailed the
event with joy. The faces of the Mexicans wore rather
solemn smiles. I was told that the Mexican people
are not very demonstrative, they certainly were not at
this time. If it had been in New York or Chicago,
such an event would have been celebrated with sound
of cornet and thunder of artillery. The Mexicans feel
a trifle uneasy and suspicious, as they view the inroads
made upon them by American capital as well as genius.
They say we conquered them once by our arms, now
we are subjugating them by our inventions and our
machinery.
The priesthood are particularly bitter
against the innovations caused by our peojDle, which
disturb the ancient quiet and loosen the hold the
Church has had for so long a time on the popular mind.
These dozy old Spaniards and stolid descendants of
the Montezumas are getting their eyes open. It is well,
for they have made no progress for centuries until
recently, and even yet they cling tenaciously to the
customs and ideas of the long ago.
On this occasion an incident occurred which illustrates one peculiar phase of the Mexican character.
The postmaster thought he would celebrate the event
by sending the mail to the United States on this first
train as an experiment. H e accordingly issued a bulletin, advising those who had communications to send
to avail themselves of this privilege, and to have their
letters at the post-office by ten o'clock in the morning,

WANDERINGS ALONG O L D P A T H S .

199

as the train would leave at three in the afternoon. This
would allow him five hours to arrange the packages and
deliver them at the station, time enough surely. Of course
we Americans were anxious to be participants in an
event of so much importance. At three o'clock sharp
the train pulled out of the depot for the North; but alas!
the mail-bags had not been delivered. They came about
fifteen minutes too late. • " Just like a Mexican," said all
the Americans.
In this strange old land all things tend to remain as
they were from the beginning. The farmer breaks up
the soil with a plow modeled like those used in Egypt
three thousand years ago. It is made of a stick of wood,
with an iron point, and a single rear handle to guide it.
Then a pole is extended from the middle of the groundpiece with a cross-bar on its end, which is fastened with
leather straps to the horns of cattle. With this instrument the ground is merely scratched. The sweeping
is done with .a bunch of straw or stiff grass. The
house servant takes slowly to a handled broom, and will
not use one if it can possibly be avoided. A blacksmith will work in his shop in an atmosphere dense with
the smoke of the furnace for want of a chimney, which
might be built of adobe brick in a few hours at almost
no expense. The skins of animals are used every-where
for carrying and storing liquids, precisely as was done in
the Orient in the days of the Pharaohs. Threshing is
done by driving a number of animals over the grain in
the field threshing-floor, and then the chaff is winnowed
from the grain by throwing it up, that the wind may
blow though it; hence the expression, "like the chaff
which the wind driveth away."
The Mexican character is a compound of Indian stolidity and Castilian haughtiness. With him change is
slow. Time has no meaning to him. We Americans

2oo

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF MEXICO.

are in the habit of saying, " Time is money," not so the
descendants of the Aztec. H e is never in any hurry,
and as a rule never does to-day what he can possibly
put oif till to-morrow. H e opens his place of business
at nine o'clock in the morning, and closes it in time to
drive through the paseo, or walk in the plaza or alemada. The merchant is willing you should buy of him
if you will, but does not seem very eager about the
matter. T h e word manaria—to-morrow—expresses
his
way of not doing things on time.
This is a land of extremes. It contains the loftiest
mountains and the deepest of valleys. In some parts
the soil is so poor as to be almost entirely unproductive, and in other sections its richness is fabulous.
Here the different varieties of cactus grow right out of
the burning sands, and there the earth carries on her
bosom the luxuriousness of the tropics. Now you are
down where oranges, lemons, figs, bananas, pine-apples,
and other tropical fruits hang on the trees, and then
you are away up in the region where the snows whiten
the mountain summit the whole year through.
The tierra caliente, tierra templada, and tierta fria may
all be passed through in twenty-four to thirty-six hours.
The same extremes exist in the social life of the people.
On one hand you are greeted with a coarse hilarity, on
the other by a stilted Castilian politeness, which lias
been imported from the mother country of the Spaniard.
One must learn in Mexico not to take too much for
granted, especially when a man meets you, and makes
you a present of his residence. He will grasp your
hand with ardent cordiality, and assure you that his
house is yours, or that it is " always at the command of
your grace." The very next man you meet may tell
you that your house is number so and so, and he will be
offended if you do not come and occupy it. It is a little

W A N D E R I N G S ALONG O L D P A T H S .

201

burdensome to be the owner of so much real estate all of
a sudden. One English traveler said that he had thirteen houses presented to him on the same evening. This
is only the Mexican way of saying, " I am pleased to see
you." They are kind, and yet they seem to be cruel.
They live in rudest huts and survive on cheapest,
coarsest food, yet are fond of music, and cultivate it
'to a high degree. Rich and poor meet together in the
plazas, in the churches, and every-where else. In the
cities there are no aristocratic quarters.
One-story
adobe houses stand beside the mansions of the rich,
and often a millionaire will live on the second or third
floor, while a grocery, a pulqueria, or a meat-shop occupies the ground floor. The most elegant private residence in all Mexico has a railway ticket office on one
side of the entrance, and a cigar shop on the other.
Such were my observations and experiences as I wandered along these old paths.

202

THROUGH

THE

HEART

OF

MEXICO.

C H A P T E R XVII.
FROM TOLTEC TO SPANIARD.
Ancient ruins—Pyramids—Egypt outdone—Mexican Noah—Roving tribes—Hideous images—Worship and blood—Whence came
the Toltecs—Who were the Aztecs—Thieving versus praying—
" Nine points of the law "—Mixture of races—Dusky aristocrats—
Marriage and mestizos—Cortez and his religion—Ignorance not
bliss—Tricks of the trade.

/7TNLL over Central and Southern Mexico there are
relics of a departed race whose annals antedate
even those of the Aztecs. Antiquaries have endeavored
to read their history in the stones of Tula, which was
the old Toltec capital, now a place of ruins. Even
modern Tula presents no special attraction. Old Tula
is now overgrown and half-hidden from sight. San Juan
Teotihuacan, also, is famous for its two great earthen
pyramids, which stand out on the plain half a mile apart.
One of them was dedicated to the sun, the other to the
moon. The earth for miles around is filled with small
images—caritas—insomuch that it seems as if these
ancient people spent most of their time in making them.
The greatest, however, of all these earth pyramids
is at Cholula, near Puebla, which may well take rank
among the " wonders of the world." It has been
claimed by some that it is only a natural hill faced in
spots with adobe. I climbed up one of its ragged and
sloping sides myself to a height thirty feet or more, and
could trace the lines between the bricks as clearly as
one can see the outlines of the books in a library. That
(gd)S)^

F R O M TOLTEC TO SPANIARD.

203

enormous structure stands out in a level plain distinct
from any hill or chain of hills. It is irregular in form,
resembling far more a broken hill than a four-sided
pyramid. It rises in clear view of Popocatepetl, and
only about five miles from the outermost rim of its base.
That pyramid is a miniature of the volcano, and it
seemed to me, as I stood there, that it must have been
constructed by the Toltecs when the volcano was yet
at least partially active, and was designed to be an altar
of sun worship, an effort of man to imitate the works of
the divinity in which he believed. It is not built of
stone, like those of Egypt, nor is it so lofty, but its base
covers about forty-five acres, and its altitude is two hundred feet. The curling smoke of Popocatepetl rose to
heaven like that of Sinai, which " b u r n e d with fire," and
close beside it men offered some sort of devotions to
their gods, on the summit of this toscalli.
Nearly all nations trace their origin away back into
the dim and shadowy past, the region of myths and fables. T h e native Mexicans do this. They have a tradition tinctured a good deal with Scripture, and yet that
tradition was there before any Mexican ever saw or
heard of the Bible. According to that account, in the
age of water a great flood completely covered the face
of the whole earth, and, all men were transformed into
fishes. But there was an exception made to this by the
great Deity in the case of one man and his wife, who
were permitted to escape the universal fate by means of
the hollow trunk of a cypress-tree. The name of the
man was Coxcox, that of his wife Xochiquetzal. In
course of time the waters abated a little, and their canoe
grounded on the peak of Colhuacan, a high elevation of
land. Here children were born to them, and greatly
multiplied in numbers, but were all born dumb. Then
a dove was sent from heaven, which gave them tongues.

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THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

and many languages were the result. Fifteen of these
sons and daughters, who were thus miraculously gifted
with speech, became the heads of different tribes of
people. From these descended the Toltecs, the Aztecs,
and the Acolhuans.
One can see here a very marked resemblance to the
Bible account of Noah and the flood. Another tradition
has been preserved also among the natives, in which a
man named Tezpi figures. If the first one is the genuine
story the other is the apocrypha. Tezpi's fortune was
better than that of Coxcox, for he was able to save, in
a spacious vessel, himself and wife, besides his children
and some animals, and food for their use. When the
waters began to subside he sent out a vulture, that it
might go to and fro over the whole country and bring
him word when the dry land began to appear again. But
the vulture never returned to Tezpi. It fed upon the
carcasses which it found scattered over every part.
Tezpi then sent out a humming-bird, among some others. After a day the humming-bird returned, bearing in
its mouth a green leaf, which showed Tezpi that new
verdure had come upon the earth. Then Tezpi saw
that his vessel was aground on the mountain of Colhuacan, and he landed there and began the work of
rebuilding cities and founding families.
It is most likely these stories are one and the same,
with variations. They have been read from the Aztec
picture-writings which had fortunately escaped the flames
of Zumarraga. These pictures represent a boat drifting
over the waters, containing a man and a woman. It
must be that this Mexican tradition, confirmed by those
of some other nations, is founded upon a great historical
fact.
The history of Mexico reaches far back into the past,
and shows that at least three distinct powers have ruled

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205

upon her soil : first, the old Toltec, which has left such
wonderful ruins as those found, especially in the extreme
south. The Toltec race may have included a number of
aboriginal tribes. Some indications point to an Asiatic
origin of these people, which is the most plausible theory.
But, be this as it may, they worked out a civilization of
no mean character, as their remains testify. They were
also possessed of a degree of wealth that was in keeping
with their architectural designs. Whatever power or
grandeur the Aztec people could command had its
origin in that of the Toltecs, who laid the first foundation. The Aztec empire gave way before the arms of
the Spaniard, and the rule of the latter, after three
hundred years, died out from its inherent corruption.
Then to-day the Aztecs, somewhat modernized, are not
only the most numerous class of the population, but
their representative men are among the foremost citizens
'of the republic.
As I wandered about viewing the symbols of the ancient faith, I could not help thinking of the savage
spirit which animated the breasts of these people, degrading them far below the level of the North American
Indians. The ancient Hebrew bard said, " They that
make them are like unto them, so is every one that
trusteth in them." Go and look upon one of those ancient Aztec or Toltec idols, and you will form a low
opinion of the people who worshiped at their shrines.
Their deities were represented by ill-shapen images of
serpents coiled upon themselves, and other hideouslooking things. These images could only have been
born out of the darkest of human passions—terror,
hatred, revenge, cruelty. Theirs was, indeed, a religion
of blood, and thousands of human beings were annually immolated upon their altars, especially among the
Aztecs, if the stories which have come to us be true.

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THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

I judge there was a descent, in both religious ideas
and practices, in passing from Toltec to Aztec dominion. The Toltecs were probably sun or fire worshipers.
Their numerous pyramids would seem to indicate it. If
so, then theirs was a pure worship compared with their
Aztec successors. The following is from the pen of
Rev. Mr. Dobbins, who has made a study of this phase
of Aztec life :
*' The places of worship, called Teocallis, were pyramids composed of terraces placed one above another,
like the temple of Belus, at Babylon. These were built
of clay, or of alternate layers of clay and unburnt bricks,
but, in some cases, faced with slabs of polished stone,
on which figures of animals were sculptured in relief.
One or two small chapels stood upon the summit, inclosing images of their deities. The largest known Teocalli contains four stories of terraces, and has a breadth
of four hundred and eighty yards at the base and a
height of fifty-five yards. These structures served as
temples, tombs, and observatories.
" The Aztecs believed in one supreme, invisible creator
of all things, the ruler of the universe, named Taotl—a
belief, it is conjectured, not native to them, but derived
fiom their predecessors, the Toltecs.
Under this
supreme being stood thirteen chief and two hundred
inferior deities, each of whom had his sacred day and
festival. At their head was the patron god of the
Aztecs, the frightful Huitzilopochtli, the Mexican
Mars. His temples were the most splendid and imposing. In every city of the empire his altars were
drenched with the blood of human sacrifice.
" Cortez and his companions were permitted by Montezuma to enter his temple in the city of Mexico, and to
behold the god himself. H e had a broad face, wide
mouth, and terrible eyes. H e was covered with gold,

F R O M T O L T E C TO S P A N I A R D .

207

pearls, and precious stones, and was girt about with
golden serpents. On his neck, a fitting ornament, were
the faces of men wrought in silver, and their hearts in
gold. Close by were braziers with incense, and on the
braziers three real hearts of men who had that day been
sacrificed. The smell of the place, we are told, was
like that of a slaughter-house.
ik
To supply victims for the sacrifices, the emperors
made war on all the neighboring and subsidiary States,
or in case of revolt, in any city of their dominions, and
levied a certain number of men, women, and children
by way of indemnity. The victims were borne in triumphal processions and to the sound of music to the
summit of the great temples, where the priests, in sight
of assembled crowds, bound them to the sacrificial stone,
and opening the breast, tore from it the bleeding heart,
which was either laid before the image of the god, or
eaten by the worshipers, after having been carefully cut
up and mixed with maize. In the years immediately
preceding the Spanish conquest, 7 not less than twenty
thousand victims were annually immolated."
When Cortez, with his Spanish cohorts, invaded and
conquered the Aztec people, Zumarraga, as before
stated, destroyed all the records he could lay his hands
upon. Charity requires us to admit that the act was
well meant, but love of truth compels us to brand it
as an outrage against history. Nevertheless, some ancient records in stone and some picture writings on a
species of cloth made from the fibers of the maguey
plant, fortunately escaped destruction. From these it
is learned that the Toltecs appeared about the sixth
century of the Christian era, but whence they came
mast ever remain an enigma. From the few monuments «left us it seems as if they were Egyptian in
character.

2o8

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

There also came peoples known as the Chichemecs,
Nahualtecs, and Acolhuans, all of whom doubtless were
varying types of the Toltec character
T h e Aztecs
appeared in the twelfth century, and remained masters
of the territoryumtil the Spanish invasion, in 1519. T h e
latter, with their fire-arms, were too powerful for the
former, and so, in 1520, the reigning Montezuma fell, and
his people were left in the grasp of the invaders. With
the conquest came the religion of Rome, which has held
sway ever since. Spanish Catholic civilization in Mexico was an improvement on that of the ancient Aztec.
Spanish thieving was better than Aztec praying, for the
Aztec religion was one of blood, not of bulls or goats,
but human blood. The story recorded by the early
chroniclers is a strain on one's credulity. If history
can be believed, from twenty to seventy thousand human
beings were annually offered in sacrifice to the Aztec deities, who, if they had existed and had demanded such
oblations, far more merited the title of devil than deity.
By some writers these figures are made even larger. At
the dedication of one great temple seventy thousand
human victims are said to have been offered. When
Cortez took possession of the capital, his officers reported the finding of one hundred and thirty-six
thousand human skulls in one edifice! On these great
dedicatory occasions the mutilated bodies of the sacrificial victims were given out for cannibal feastings.
Wretched as Spanish rule has been, it was well to put
an end to such butchery.
While the less numerous Spaniard even to-day dominates over the more numerous native in the best
portions of the republic, yet there are places in the
remote ranges of the mountains and in the low and
unhealthy coast regions of Southern Mexico where
native Aztecs are in the ascendency.

F R O M T O L T E C TO SPANIARD.

209

At the time of the conquest the land in the high,
healthy regions of the country became the property of
the conquerors, but in the other and less favored portions, where the foreigner feared to settle or had no inclination to do so, the Indian obtained possession of the
soil and used it for raising his maize and pulque plant.
The Spanish conquerors claimed the ownership o( all
the territory of the Aztecs on the selfish principle
that "might makes right." But there were some sections which they could never wrest from their lawful
occupants. The Aztec held his ground on a principle
also probably not formulated; namely, that "possession
is nine points of the law." In time a reactionary law
was enacted in Spain, granting to each Indian village a
free possession extending about six hundred yards from
the church in all directions, and in addition to this a
square tract of twelve hundred yards base line. These
they still own and can cultivate in common, though
many prefer to work on the ranches and in the mines.
The population, especially in the capital, is greatly
mixed. The census in Mexico is not taken and cannot
be with any thing like the accuracy which characterizes
the work in our own country.
Nevertheless, rough
estimates are made which approximate the truth. The
Indians in many places preserve, in a degree, the habits
and manners and speak the language of their ancestors.
They deem it a departure from the customs of the past
to wear shoes, and either go barefoot or protect their
feet with leather sandals. Every thing that is purely
Mexican can be seen in the capital. All the types of
men are there, and all the peculiarities appear upon its
streets. The conquest has entailed upon Mexico a
great variety of people.
In another place I have spoken of the leperos, who are
the descendants of the worst Spanish with the worst
14

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Aztec blood. Recent statisticians estimate the population of the republic at ten million five hundred thousand
people, of which fully one half are natives, who come
under the general term of Indians. Then come the
Creoles—criollos—a people of Spanish descent, numbering one million five hundred thousand; next the
mestizos, a mixture of white and Aztec blood, including
the leperOS) three millions. The balance of the population is made up of various nationalities, Europeans,
Americans, and Africans.
The Creoles are thus described by a recent writer:
" The race, which was imposed upon the country at
the coming of the Spaniards, is the result of a union
of these with the natives, and are to-day the representative Mexicans.
They are of European parentage in
part.
" A t the time of the revolution, 1810-21, a term of
contempt was used in speaking of the Spaniards ; they
were called Gachupines
The Creoles were at one time
the gentry, the aristocracy of Mexico, and even have
aspirations in that direction now. In them we recognize the features of the Spaniard of the South, the
conquerors and first colonists having been Andalusians.
They are gentle and refined, yet vain and passionate,
excellent hosts, delightful companions, addicted to gaming, and passionate admirers of the fair sex. The latter
number among them many exceedingly lovely women,
with dark complexions, large, languishing eyes, lithe
and delicate forms, and dainty feet and hands.
" In their dress the Creoles differ in no important particular from the French, the ladies especially conforming to the latest fashion plates from Paris, with this
exception, that at morning mass, and in making unceremonious calls, they wear that graceful Spanish headdress, the mantilla ; and the gentlemen, when on horse-

FROM T O L T E C TO SPANIARD.

211

back, or in the country, adopt the picturesque riding
costume of the mestizos. They have many lovable
traits ; their goodness of heart, their cheerful endurance
of the petty ills of life, the respect and courtesy paid bychildren to their parents, and the frankness with which
a stranger is received by the family, who will combine to
please and entertain him—these are but few of their
amiable qualities."
The Creoles do not differ from Europeans or Americans in any particular appearance.
T h e men wear
stove-pipe hats, and garments to correspond. Kidgloved hands sport gold-headed canes, and diamond
studs sparkle on the bosom and flash from the fingers.
The wealthier of this population live in wrell-furnished
houses, and ride in carriages drawn by blooded horses.
The women adorn themselves in costly fabrics and
expensive jewelry. Paint and powder are used so freely
by many as to be very noticeable. Away back in the
interior, in adobe huts, I have seen little girls with their
hair " banged," and was led to wonder whether the
idiotic fashion had been imported to the United States
from Mexico, or whether the Aztecs had so far fallen
from their former reputed greatness as to observe such
a ridiculous custom.
Senor Don Garcia Cubas, a learned native Mexican,
says :
" T h e difference of dress, customs, and language
makes known the heterogeneousness of the population.
. . . The habits and customs of the individuals who
compose the creole division conform in general to
European civilization, particularly to the fashions of the
French, with reminiscences of the Spanish. Their
national language is Spanish ; French is much in vogue,
while English, German, and Italian are receiving increasing attention.
The nearest descendants of the

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

Spaniards, and those less mixed up with the native race
in Mexico, belong, by their complexion, to the white
race. The natural inclination of the mixed race to the
habits and customs of their white brethren, as well as
their estrangement from those of the natives, is the
reason that many of them figure in the most important
associations of the country, by their learning and intelligence, including in this large number the worthy
members of the middle classes. From this powerful
coalition the force of an energetic development naturally results, which is inimical to the increase of the
indigenous race (the Indian), not a few of the natives
themselves contributing to this fatal consequence, who,
by their enlightenment, have joined the body I have
referred to, thereby founding new families with the
habits and customs of the upper classes.
" From this we may infer the gradual extinction of
the native Indian race by gradual absorption into the
more powerful mixed class; yet, although they are
slowly melting away in the north, in the south they are
increasing in number, until the country south of the
capital is to a great extent in their possession."
Now let us descend a few degrees in this social scale,
and we shall find two or three millions of people who
live in small quarters; walk instead of ride on their
journeys; wear cheap, coarse clothing, and but little
jewelry, if any; protect their feet with sandals, and work
hard in shop and field. These are the before-mentioned mestizos, a term which designates a large mixed
population. They are the descendents of Spanish invaders who intermarried with Aztec women three centuries ago and less. The latter were baptized by the
priests of the Church of Rome, who came over with
Cortez, and hence the marriage was not considered k misalliance. The relation between Spain and Mexico had

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213

become very close. The latter had forced upon her the
religion of the former. The conduct of Cortez, in Mexico, is an example of the spirit in which conversion was
attempted in the New World. Having cast down and destroyed the altars in one of the Mexican temples, a new
altar was erected, which was hung with rich mantles and
adorned with flowers. Cortez then ordered four of the
native priests to cut off their hair and to put on white
robes, and placing the cross upon the altar, he committed it to their charge. They were taught to make
wax candles, and Cortez enjoined them to keep some of
the candles always burning on the altar. A lame old soldier was left by the conqueror to reside in the temple, to
keep the native priests to their new duties. T h e church
thus constituted was called the First Christian Church
in New Spain (Mexico). Father Almedo, who accompanied Cortez in his expedition, explained to the Mexicans the mystery of the cross. H e then showed them
an image of the Virgin, and told them to adore it, and
to put up crosses in their temples instead of their
accursed images. When the Mexicans began to feel the
power of the invader, some of the chiefs conciliated his
favor by presents. Twenty native women were presented to him, who were baptized by one of the ecclesiastics, and Cortez gave one to each of his captains.
These were the first Christian women in New Spain.
T h e natives, both of India and the New World, soon
perceived that one of the means of conciliating their
conquerors was to make a profession of Christianity.
In Hispaniola (St. Domingo and Hayti) many natives
did this in order to oblige and conciliate Columbus.
While the higher classes of the Aztec people' did intermarry with the invaders, the lower classes did not,
which accounts for the large population of the original
stock which still remains. The mestizos are the result

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

of three centuries of social relations, not always in keeping with divine law, in which soldier, monk, and priest
have each taken part. Of this class the author of Mexico
and the Mexicans says :
" T h e mestizo, then, is properly the offspring (not '
always properly begotten) of white father and Indian
mother. H e has an inborn originality, and is the representative of national customs and peculiarities. H e is
a magnificent horseman; one might take him for an
Arab, as, lance in hand, he rushes past upon his light
steed. In the warmer regions he wears (on Sundays)
a carefully plaited white shirt, wide trousers of white or
colored drilling, fastened round the hips by a gay girdle,
brown leather gaiters, and broad felt hat, with silver
cord or fur band about it. The peasants, or ranchetos,
are usually distinguished by the calzoneras, or open
trousers of leather, ornamented with silver, with white
drawers showing through, a colored silk handkerchief
about the neck, and the zarape—the blanket-shawl with
slit in the center, resembling a herald's mantle. The
women seldom wear stockings, though their dainty feet
are often encased in satin slippers ; they have loose, embroidered chemises, and woolen or calico shirts, while
the rebozo a narrow but long-shawl, is drawn over the
head and covers the otherwise exposed arms and
breast."
The mestizo population has inherited in part the
brown hue of the mother, and the greater energy and
more vigorous mind of the father. When of good extraction, they are of medium size and pleasant countenance, swarthy, but fresh and animated.
As servants they are generally faithful and not over
fond of the bath-tub. They constitute the middle grade
of life, and have great power of physical endurance on
the one side, and high ambition on the other. T h e

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215

well-to-do mestizo is inclined to disown his progenitors
on the Indian side, and chooses all his associates on the
white side of his family. After two generations the
brown skin so greatly disappears that he can scarcely
be distinguished from a creole.
The cultivated mestizo is the most promising element
in Mexican society. In the professions, in mechanical
industries, as well as in war, he occupies a front rank.
Juarez and Diaz, the two most prominent men of
modern Mexico, belong to this class, and out of it must
come the emancipators of the country.
The Aztecs, or Indians, number six or seven millions,
and are about as poor and abject as any people on
earth; but they can scarcely be called wretched, for in
fact they are not. As I looked upon them every-where,
I thought of the old saying,
"Where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise,"

but to apply it to these people would be a perversion
of language. If they but realized their degradation and
poverty fully, it might spur them to strive for some
higher condition of existence. They do become restless
and mourn at times their fate, especially when they learn
how other people live, but their long subserviency to
ecclesiastical power and civil misrule has dwarfed the
body, the soul, and the mind.
The native Mexicans are not a scholarly people, but they
are possessed of some ingenious traits. Along the Santa
Anita canal women will take turnips and other succulent
vegetables, and dexterously cut them into shapes, which
resemble certain flowers, giving the petal and sepal
forms quite true to nature. They color them with different bright pigments in a very artistic way. They are
offered you by the senorita for a few centavos, with a

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

coquettish smile thrown in. They will answer simply as
curiosities for an hour. There are some other tricks
which they play upon innocent tourists. A lady from
New York was one day met on a street in the city of
Mexico by a man carrying in his hands a cage containing some very beautiful birds. They were of the brightest and most delicate plumage, and were declared to be
the finest of songsters. The lady, being rich, was regardless of the price asked, and at once purchased them.
She took the feathered beauties to her hotel, and after a
few days gave them a bath, when, to her astonishment, the
paint all washed off, and she found herself the owner of
some very ordinary birds. If she did not relish the
joke, probably the Mexican did. These same unlettered
people carry on only a few branches of industry, but have
more than ordinary ability to produce objects purely ornamental, viewed from a Mexican stand-point. They
are devoted to high, bold colors in every thing.
In the manufacture of " a n t i q u i t i e s " they do a considerable business. These are sold to unsuspecting
travelers, and are carried away to be placed in cabinets
and museums. They manufacture, also, images in wax
and clay, representing themselves in dress, color, and
occupations, which are surprisingly true to nature.

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217

CHAPTER XVIII.
A GRIP

OF

STEEL.

The great cathedral—The plunder—Bells, candlesticks, and
diamonds—Cleaning up and cleaning out—High and low castes—
Praying and thieving—Kissing the girdle—Shrines for the million
—The weakly press—A scheme that succeeded—Under the pallium—Myths and fables—Guadalupe—Pilgrims—Too much altar—
Idolatry—Two Marys—Self-scourgings—Horrid
scenes—Confessionals—Bull-fights.

Y T J H E most attractive object in the Mexican capital
^ JL j is the fine old cathedral, which stalids on the site
once occupied by an Aztec teocalli, or temple, where
pagans offered their human sacrifices to Mexitli, the
war god of Anahuac. The Spanish invaders demolished
the Aztec temple, and erected a church on its foundation in 1530. This first church of Cortez was succeeded by the present cathedral, which was completed
in 1667, at a cost of nearly two millions of dollars. It
has generally been regarded as the most sumptuous
edifice of its class in America. The old ground occupied by the teocalli of Montezuma extended about
ninety feet on each side at the base, and the structure decreased as it arose, until the top was only
thirty feet square. On this summit was an altar, the
great sacrificial stone, El Piedra de los Sacrifícios, now
exhibited in the patio of the National Museum. T h e
cathedral is cruciform in shape, with a front on the
eastern side of the Plaza Mayor of over four hundred
feet, and extending back about the same distance.
Close by its side—in fact, adjoining it—is the parish

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O ,

church, distinct from the former, known as the Sagrario.
T h e interior of the cathedral, though it has been plundered several times in the exciting days of the revolutions,
is yet magnificent after a certain style. It contains five
naves, six altars, and fourteen chapels. Some of its pictures were painted by celebrated artists. A balustrade
once surrounded the choir, of a metal so rich that an
offer to replace it with one of solid silver of equal weight
was refused. It is said to have weighed twenty-six tons,
and to have been brought from China in the old days of
Spanish dominion. The reader is under no obligation
to believe this story. The high altar was once considered
one of the richest in the world, and even yet retains
much of its former splendor. This church is also said to
contain candlesticks of pure gold so heavy that a single
one is more than a man can lift readily—doubted. Its
architecture is the Spanish Renaissance, elaborately
decorated with stone and bronze. Within its towers are
hung about half a hundred bells, varying in weight from
those of a few score pounds to one, judging from its size,
which, being eighteen feet high, must weigh a number of
tons. I was informed that in this same cathedral there
is a sacred vessel of some kind, two or three feet high,
set with five thousand eight hundred diamonds, and another one set with two thousand five hundred emeralds
and rubies, and that, besides these, there are here chalices,
cruets, and fixes of solid gold, incrusted with precious
stones; censers, crosses, and statues of the same precious
metal, studded with emeralds, amethysts, rubies, and
sapphires. I did not see any of them. There was once
in this cathedral, so the story runs, a statue of the Assumption, made of solid gold, and set with diamonds,
worth a million of dollars, but, if it ever did exist, it
has disappeared probably in some revolution, and, like
Napoleon's apostles, was sent out to help spread the

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gospel of civil liberty. Once there was a golden lamp
here valued at seventy thousand dollars, which cost one
thousand dollars to clean up, but which the Liberal troops
cleaned out for nothing, for no one knows where it is
now. The great glory of this edifice existed at a time
when bishops, priests, and monks were masters of the
country, and ruled it with a rod of iron. Well might
they enrich a church with the spoils of a nation two
thirds of whose property they owned.
Enter at any hour of the day or evening and you will
see many kneeling figures—here a delicate seilorita by the
side of her mother or some other relative, acting as her
chaperon, wearing the black mantilla, sign of her higher
caste, and in whose veins flows purest Castilian blood.
Beside them, in devotional attitude, will be an Indian
woman, whose scant and filthy habiliments render her an
object to be both avoided and pitied; and then, perhaps,
within a few feet of them, a ragged peon, bearing on his
shoulders a bundle of produce, all alike intent on paying
their devotions to the image of the Virgin.
On feast days—and they are many in this land, when
the churches are thronged with devotees, Spaniard and
Aztec, rich and poor, clean and filthy, mingling together
in an indiscriminate mass—the leperos, while pretending
to great devotion, avail themselves of the opportunity to
do a little pilfering. For instance, a senorita goes into
a church to pray, and while kneeling before some image
a ragged thief kneels close beside her, and while her
eyes are upturned to the object of her worship, his eyes
are watching for a parasol or porte-monnaiej or a gentleman bows before the altar with his hat on the floor
beside him, and when his prayers are said he is hatless. The pilferer carries the hat to a second-hand
clothing store or pawn-shop, and disposes of it at a price
which enables him to pay the priest for forgiving the

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

sin, besides leaving him quite a large margin of profit in
the transaction.
T h e church was once every thing in this country.
At Toluca, a very pretty city, I visited the principal
church, which is rich and abounds in gildings, paintings, and images. On the public streets leading to
it, and within three or four blocks of the main entrance, I counted thirty-two persons of both sexes, who,
if they were in almost any city in our own country,
would be liable to arrest for indecent exposure of person. I happened to be there when the bishop was on
some mission, and as he came out to take his carriage
saw over twenty women, most of them of the better
class, surround him and vie with each other in trying to
kiss his hand. Most of them succeeded. Some kneeled
before him and kissed the brazen crucifix attached to
the girdle which he wore around his waist. A number
of these persons were young girls under twenty. T h e
reader can imagine what a power such a man would
have over these maidens were he disposed to use it.
An awful tale of sin and cruelty connected with the
history of convent life in Mexico will some day be
revealed, when the secrets of all hearts shall be made
known.
I have said that this is a land of churches. I never
saw or expected to see so many ecclesiastical structures
anywhere.
There are church buildings enough in
Mexico, it seemed to me, to accommodate a population
of fifty millions of people. One will see three or four
vast stone piles in almost every city within five or six
minutes' walk of each other. In the city of Queretaro,
with a population of about thirty-five thousand souls, I
counted twenty-three churches, some of which were very
large and expensive. There were at one time one hundred and sixty in the city of Mexico. I noted six

A G R I P OF S T E E L .

221

large brick and stone edifices in one of my morning
rambles, not one of which was over five minutes' walk
from where I stood. Some of these are not in use, and
are consequently falling into decay, while very few are
being either built or repaired anywhere in the republic. It would seem as if the old Spanish priests for the
last three hundred years thought there was nothing to
do but to build churches and convents. These are numerous, while school-houses are few. It is a fact greatly
to be lamented, that only a small portion of the Mexican people comparatively speaking are able to read and
write. There being no very accurate census returns to
which reference can be made, the number of illiterate
persons is not definitely known, but the most reliable
estimate that can be arrived at places the aggregate at
six or seven millions—about two thirds of the entire
population. Newspapers are not very common, though
they do exist. In the city of San Luis Potosi, with a
population of thirty-odd thousand, there are two small
weekly papers, and they are weakly as well. Of the
number of daily papers published in the city of Mexico,
not one of them has a circulation of five'hundred copies
outside of the metropolis, and a very limited circulation
within. There are cities of from twelve to twenty-five
thousand inhabitants where not a single copy of any
daily newspaper is subscribed for by the entire native
population, and where not fifty newspapers of any kind
are received at the post-office, except those addressed
to residents and visitors of foreign birth.
In view of the illiteracy of the people, this is not to
be wondered at. But if they do not patronize the newspapers, they do the confessional, which, I suppose, answers the same end. The eccentric Artemas Ward once
remarked of a certain village in the West somewhere, that
" there was no newspaper published in the place, but

222

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

there was a ladies' sewing society, which answered the
same purpose. ,, The early Spanish priests were not ignorant men by any means. In fact, they represented the
best learning of their day, and they employed that, as
well as their cunning, in building up the Romish Church
in the land of their adoption. We have an evidence of
this in their method of planting churches.
They soon discovered that Mexico was deficient inwater privileges, and hence, wherever there was any water,
such as lakes, springs, or rivers, they took possession of
the surrounding territory in the name and by the authority of the holy Catholic Church. In the first place, an
image of the Virgin is carved out of gypsum, or made
of some other material, which they would bury in the
earth somewhere in the neighborhood of any spot where
there was water or the outcroppings of silver. Then
some priest or monk has a vision or pretended revelation from heaven, commanding him to lead the people
to that place. Accordingly the church bell is rung at
midnight, and the people leave their jacals and repair
to the church, where the priest informs them of the
will of the Virgin Mary—" Mother of God," as she is so
commonly styled by them—which is, that they must go
to such a place forthwith. The crowd knows no law
but that of obedience, and so, with lighted candles, led
by the padre, in his ecclesiastical robes, they start on a
journey to the spot. The priest now begins a search
for the image, which a very little excavating soon brings
to light. H e then assures his poor deluded followers
that it is the wish of Mary that a church should be
erected on that spot. The will of heaven, of course,
must not be disobeyed, and so they go to work and
erect a shrine into which to place the new-found image.
Around this gathers a colony of Aztecs, and in time the
rude structure is replaced by an edifice of better pro-

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223

portions. In time a large church, costing $100,000, possibly* would be erected there by the labors and contributions of these poor peons. The labor necessary to its
erection would be demanded under the threat of eternal
perdition, while the laborer who carried the stones of
the building on his back received but the barest subsistence. In this way hundreds of churches all over
Mexico were founded two hundred years ago.
On many a church front may be seen a picture,
in bright colors, of two arms crossed—one in a sleeve,
the other naked—the naked arm symbolizing the poor
Mexican Indian of " untutored mind," the sleeved
arm representing the Church which came professedly
to clothe, feed, and shelter the people. In the great
National Art Gallery of the capital there is a painting of a bishop taking off his own garments and bestowing them on the poor people, whom the artist has
grouped about him. In the rear of the bishop is a
basket of bread, and by his side stand three or four
well-fed and sleek-looking priests. The picture was
intended to show that the Church had come to clothe
the naked and feed the hungry. What an outrage to
compel even art to so falsify the truth ! If ever any
people on the earth were'stripped of their clothing and
starved to array the priesthood in rich and gaudy apparel, and to furnish them the " fat of the land/' these
poor Mexicans are that people. Where the churches are
the richest and most numerous, as a rule, the people are
the poorest. Their earnings have gone to the church,
leaving them only rags, huts, and the cheapest and
coarsest of food.
The time was when great and expensive pageantries
were the order of the day. The archbishop, accompanied by the bishops, clergy, friars, and nuns, decked
out in their long, glittering robes, wrere frequently seen

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

parading' themselves in public places—the archbishop
walking under a rich pallium, wearing his bordered
miter, leaning on a rod of pure gold, with a breastplate
hanging on his bosom sfcudded with costly gems worth
thousands of dollars, to be gazed upon by an admiring
and adoring throng, composed mostly of people clad in
rags, and elevated but little above barbarians.
Mexico is a land of myths and fables. The credulity
of the ignorant masses is wonderful. The story is told
that in one of the old monasteries, once upon a time,
an image of Christ was found in a greatly decayed state,
which had been eaten in part by the rats and was otherwise sadly marred. T h e bishop passing through the
parish one day saw it and ordered it to be buried at the
same time and place with the first adult who should die
in the community. For a long time death passed by all
the grown-up people, but carried away many of the
children.
The piety of the people greatly increased
about this time, but the multitude did not go and worship the image after the decree had been issued for its
interment. At length disease attacked the adults, loud
noises began to be heard in the church, and strange
lights were seen precisely at the spot where the image
was placed. Some claimed that they saw angels; others
beheld the spirits of distinguished ancestors who had
been buried there rising from their graves and praying
before the image, performing penances and undergoing
flagellation, while the miserere was sung by divine voices
accompanied with celestial harps ; while others said the
image actually wept and sweat drops of blood. At
length the image appeared quite renovated ; the crowd
then saw the blood which was exhibited to them by
the curates and priests. Instead of the old crumbling
figure, they beheld one entirely new, which the angels
had repaired and varnished. The archbishop Went in

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225

person with a long procession to conduct it to the city,
where a temple was consecrated to it and which now
bears its name. Such is the fantastical tradition of the
image of St. Theresa.
I spent an afternoon in paying a visit to the shrine of
Guadalupe, situated a littie over three miles north-east
from the capital of Mexico. The hill on which it is
erected is called Tepeyac, and is destitute of nearly
every species of vegetation, being a bold prophyritic
rock. It overlooks a great part of a magnificent valley,
which" Humboldt declared to be one of the finest in the
world. A curious tradition has this spot for its scene.
It runs as follows:
" O n e morning an Indian, named Juan Diego, was
passing along the brow of Tepeyac, on his way to the
village afterward named Guadalupe, to get some medicine for his uncle, Juan Bernardino. The mother of
the Saviour met him, dressed in a drapery of purple and
gold, a blue veil with silver stars, a diadem of gold and
diamonds, and a circle round her head more resplendent
than the sun. The Virgin, ordered him to go immediately to the archbishop, and tell him that she wished
him to build her a church in that place. Juan Diego
objected, saying he must go and cure his uncle, but the
Virgin replied, that on his return he should find his
relative restored to health. The Indian performed his
mission; but nobody took notice of him in the episcopal palace, and he returned to his hut.
" The Virgin of Guadalupe afterward appeared to
Juan Bernardino, and it is said restored him to health,
and then urged Juan Diego to press her claim on the
ecclesiastical authority. J u a n Diego, therefore, went to
see the archbishop again, who told him that he must
show some proof or sign of the truth of what he said.
The Indian informed the Virgin of this on her third
15

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

appearance to him, and she then ordered him to gather
some roses on the ridge of the hill, and carry them as a
proof of her apparition. The Indian thought it impossible to find flowers on so barren a mountain, especially
in winter, but she ordered him to entertain no doubts.
H e went after the roses, which he found at the distance
of a few steps. He put them in his tilma, or mantel, and
walked to the palace of the Miter, where, with much
difficulty, he found admittance to the prelate. There,
in the presence of the waiters and other religious
servants of the archbishop, Juan Diego reached out his
tilma, to present the proofs of the apparition of Mary :
when, portentous wonder ! the form of the Virgin herself, as she had appeared to him on the Tepeyac, was
impressed on the tilma of the Indian. That tilma has
had a distinguished place since that in a very rich
cathedral.* A convent of Capuchins was built on the
hill ; and a chapel at the foot of it, in which is a spring
of sulphur water, to which also is attributed a miraculous origin." Such is the superstious story of the founding of the great church of Guadalupe, which all good
Mexican Catholics believe.
A vein of petroleum, too, is shown here, as affording
blessed oil useful for all classes of maladies. The Aztec
Indian believes that this spring rises when prayers are
offered to the Virgin of Guadalupe, and subsides at the
end of the prayers. Here the " faithful do congregate." The devoted worshipers of Nuestra Sehora de
Guadalupe, by which title the Virgin is called, actually
* That tilma, of San Juan Diego, with its pretended miraculous
pictuie of the Virgin, is fiamed expensively in metal, and hangs in
the High Altar of the Church at Guadalupe, where it is an object
of worship. At the door of the church ribbons are sold on which
are printed marks showing the exact length of the Virgin's face, with
the motto, "Medida Del S. Rostro De Maria.'*

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go there on their knees from the cityj in considerable
numbers at certain seasons, as an act of great penance. Men go on their bare knees through the sand
and heat, while women have attendants who spread
down cloth of some kind before them to make the
ground softer to the knee. They solicit money on their
way to be bestowed as an offering to the Virgin at the
end of the journey, and the greater the amount collected
the greater the blessing.
T h e road from the Plaza
.Mayor to Guadalupe is broad, straight, and hard.
I
walked out along it one day and counted nine prayer
stations between the city and the shrine, which resemble
chimneys left standing after afire, only they are more
ornamental.
The church here contains many costly
fixtures brought into Mexico, we are told, when the
richly freighted galleons of Spain sent their cargoes
overland from Acapulco to Vera Cruz on the way to
the mother country from the far East. The cathedral
of Guadalupe is, perhaps, the finest church in Mexico.
It is built of brick, with four towers around a central
dome. The interior is very grand. Tall onyx columns,
highly polished, support lofty Moorish arches, while rich
colors adorn the walls and ceilings. This church is
noted for its solid silver railing, about three feet high,
extending from the choir to the high altar. A good
many churches have been stripped of their gold and
silver ornaments, which were converted into coin to
supply the sinews of war; but the shrine of the miraculous Virgin of Guadalupe, owing to its peculiar sacredness, has escaped the hands of the spoiler. The value
of that altar may be estimated from the fact that an
enterprising American offered to replace it with a silver-plated one of the same design, and pay a bonus of
$300,000 for permission to do so.
The greatest feast day of Mexico occurs on the 12th

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of December of each year, which is thus described by a
Catholic paper:
" The beautiful day and sublime scenes of Tepeyacatl
are brought to mind, the Queen of Heaven talking lovingly of our nation's prosperity with a poor Indian, despised by the world, but whose fidelity and purity of
soul commended him to God, because in the sight of
God not the rich and powerful, but humility and purity
attract the favor of Infinite Mercy; thus the Queen of
Heaven, who could only see as God sees, passing by the
rich and powerful, designed to speak to an humble Indian, making him rich promises for our good.
She
wished that a temple should be erected wherein to honor
her, and in which she could showr forth mercy to such
as should invoke her blessing and make known their
petitions, and has left us, painted on the blanket (ay ate)
of the happy Indian, her precious image as Holy Mary
of Guadalupe, in testimony of her partiality to us.
Three hundred and fifty years have passed since these
miracles took place, and the heavenly painting which the
august mother of the Redeemer, and beloved mother
of the Mexicans left with him as a memorial portrait,
exists among us and is venerated in the magnificent
temple which, in fulfillment of their vow, the piety of our
fathers built to her memory, and copies of this beautiful
picture are found in almost all our temples and in our
homes. On this image are written, says a recent writer,
in divine characters, the manifest destiny of Mexico,
against which vainly cavil those who, without raising
their eyes from the earth, consider themselves the supreme arbiters of the fate of countries, as though there
were not over all their thoughts an infinitely wise and
merciful providence on which our destiny depends. We
doubt not, should she not lose it by her evil deeds, the
manifest destiny of Mexico will be to receive without

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ceasing the distinguished benefits conferred by Divine
Goodness and the special protection of the mother of
the Most High."
The Mexican Catholic is an idolater. From one end
of the land to the other the Virgin Mary is supreme.
But, then, they have two virgins. In the many revolutions among themselves, one party, the monarchical and
aristocratic, has marched to battle under the image of
the Virgin of Remedies—Nuestra Senora de los Remedios—while the Liberal or progressive party has borne
that of the Virgin of Guadalupe, so that in the various revolutions it has been Virgin against Virgin. In
all the churches, large and small, may be seen these
images, clad in all sorts of flashily colored garments,
shod with sandals, and bedecked with tinselry. They
are legion. God, the Father, and Christ, the Son, are
put in the background, and Mary is every-where the
prominent figure. The position she holds in the religious system of the Mexican people is well seen in an
inscription over the door of the church erected on
the summit of the great pyramid of Cholula: " Mary,
the daughter of Heaven, the wife of the Holy Ghost,
and the mother of God." Stories, the most silly and
extravagant, about her are current among all who do
not think.
A French priest, Emmanuel Domenech, thus described the Mexican religion as it appears in modern
times under Catholic rule :
" The Mexican is not a Catholic; he is a Christian
simply because he is baptized. I speak here of the
masses, and not of numerous exceptions which are to
be found in all classes of society. I affirm that Mexico
is not a Catholic country, because the majority of the
Indian population are semi-idolaters; because the majority carry ignorance of religion to the point of having

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no worship but that of form. Their worship is materialistic beyond any d o u b t ; it does not know what
it is to adore God in spirit. The idolatrous character
of Mexican Catholicism is a fact recognized by all
travelers, and, above all, by our officers of the French
army, who have traversed Mexico in every part. The
worship of saints and madonnas absorbs the devotion
of the people to such an extent that they have very
little time left to think of God. It is in vain to look
for good fruits from this hybrid tree, which makes of
the Mexican religion a singular collection of lifeless
devotions, of haughty ignorance, of unhealthy superstitions, and of horrible vices. It would take volumes
to recount the idolatrous superstitions of the Indians,
which are still in existence. On account of the lack
of painstaking instruction, there appear in the Catholicism of the Indians numerous vestiges of the Aztec
paganism.
" Sacrifices of turtles and other animals are still practiced by thousands of Indians in many places. In the
State of Puebla they used to sacrifice, not many years
ago, on St. Michael's Day, a small orphan child, or else
an old man, who had nothing better to do than to go to
the other world."
The worship of the Romish Church in Mexico is not
only idolatrous and superstitious, but it contains an element of cruelty which reminds one of Oriental paganism
iri its lowest forms.
The following extract from a work, entitled Life in
Mexico, written by Madame Calderon de la Barca, wife
of the Spanish minister to Mexico, is strong proof of
what has been said concerning the cruelty and superstition of modern Mexican worship. Alluding to the
devotions of a certain season, she writes:
" All Mexicans, men and women, are engaged at pres-

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231

ent in what are called desagravios, a public penance performed at this season of the year in the churches during
thirty-five days. The women attend church in the
morning, no man being allowed to enter; and the men
in the evening, when the women are not admitted. But
both rules are occasionally broken. T h e 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
desert who would 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 was
a profane thought, but I dare say so many hundreds of
beautifully formed arms and hands were seldom seen
extended at the same time 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 men. Admission
having been secured for us by a certain means, private
but powerful. Accordingly, when it was dark, enveloped
in large cloaks from head to foot, without the slightest
idea of what it was, we went on foot through the streets
to the church of San Augustine. When we arrived a
small side-door opened, apparently 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.
" T h e scene was curious. About one hundred and
fifty men enveloped in zarapes (shawls), their faces entirely concealed, were assembled in the body of the

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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, bold forehead and expressive face.
His discourse was a rude, but very forcible and elo.quent
description of the torments prepared in hell for the impenitent sinners. The effect of the whole was very solemn. It seemed like a preparation for the execution of
a multitude of condemned criminals. When the discourse was finished they all joined in a prayer with much
fervor and enthusiasm, beating their breasts and falling
on their faces, when 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 into 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 glad to h ave left the church, but it
would have been impossible in the darkness.
"Suddenly a terrible voice in the darkness c r i e d :
* 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 of
any thing more horrible. Before ten minutes had
passed the sound became splashing from the blood that
flowed. 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

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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
senora's hand and felt 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 encouraged them by ejaculations or by
short passages of Scripture.
Sometimes the organ
struck up, and the poor wretches, with faint voices,
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
v,oice of the monk was heard calling on 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 now be satisfied, and that human nature could not endure beyond a certain point.
No answer came back but the sound of the scourge,
which are, many of them, made of nron, with sharp
points that enter the .flesh.* At length, as if they were
perfectly exhausted, the sounds grew fainter, and, little
by little, ceased altogether.
'4 We then got up and, with great difficulty, groped our
way in the pitch darkness through the galleries and
down the stairs until we reached the door, and had the
pleasure of feeling the fresh air again. They say the
* The author purchased in the city of Mexico as curiosities a full
set of disciplines, consisting of iron-toothed belts to be worn aiound
the arms, legs, and other parts of the body ; also a whip made of
iron, with the * sharp points" described by the above-named author.
*
They may be bought in any of the port'ales where people cairy on
traffic in second-hand goods.

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

church floor is frequently covered with blood after one
of these scourgings, and that sometimes men die in
consequence of the wounds."
These atrocities have not entirely passed away. A
writer in the New York Times, of recent date, gives the
following account of a scene witnessed in New Mexico,
where the same form of religion largely prevails :
4i
Five men, naked to the waist, barefooted, and wearing black robes and hoods that completely concealed
their identity, were seen to issue above the lodge-house
of the sect, led by the master of ceremonies, who carried
a genuine cat-o'-nine-tails. Two huge wooden crosses?
weighing two hundred and fifty pounds each, were placed
on the shoulders of two of the self-torturers. The sharp
edges cut into the naked flesh, causing the blood to
spurt out and drop on the ground. One penitent produced a sharp goad, which he thrust into the flesh of his
fellow-sufferers from time to time, while the procession
moved up the street, singing a wild chant in Spanish.
Halting once, the crosses were transferred to the shoulders of others, the attendants meanwhile applying their
raw-hide whips mercilessly, each blow taking off skin
and bits of flesh. The procession again started and took
its way to the goal, half a mile distant.
" During the march not a groan was heard, nor was a
word spoken ; but just before reaching the goal, a small
adobe hut, an ordeal was encountered which tried the
nerves of the boldest. For some distance from the door
cactus plants had been strewn upon the ground, and as
the barefooted cross-bearers approached it one hesitated.
Instantly half a dozen whips descended upon his bare
shoulders, and, with a bound, he sprang into the thorny
plants, his every step and the footsteps of his followers
being marked with blood. As the torture grew more
terrible, the chant grew louder, and the thongs fell with

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more vigor. Reaching the door of the house, the procession was lost sight of, a sentinel guarding the entrance, and only broken whips and poles and blood
bearing witness of what occurred within. Issuing from
the house, the procession reformed and turned to their
house of worship. And so the horrifying exercises continued, one band of penitents succeeding another until
night, when a grand procession and chant wound up the
exercises for the day. During these marches to and
from the house of refuge, the scene at times was too
sickening for description. Powerful men submitted
their bodies to the most merciless flagellation, until, in
some instances, the bare muscles were seen quivering at
every blow. The whole proceeding was a savage attempt
to honor the Easter season."
One of the interesting places in the city of Mexico
is the Church of Santo Domingo, where I saw an image of the dead Christ, representing him immediately
after the crucifixion, at full length, lying in a regular
bed. The face was bedaubed with red paint, to give it
the appearance of blood. A white cotton spread came
up to his chin. The feet, also spotted with red paint,
projected from under the bed-clothes at the foot.
On
a stand, at the head of the bed, two or three candles
were burning. A couple of women, dressed in black
clothing, sat by the bed-side as watchers. Near by was
a box to receive the offerings of the devotees.
I sat within a few feet of this image for the space
of an hour, and witnessed a motley concourse of
people, old and young, rich and poor, passing by and
paying to it their reverential devotion. Many of the
women kissed and hugged those " bloody " feet, stroking them with their hands soothingly, as a mother would
stroke the injured limb of her crying child. If this be
worship, then it is the coarsest and most repulsive con-

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ceivable. Many of these persons were from the upper
walks of life. They were doubtless sincere—let us be
charitable—but the superstition and ignorance are most
appalling.
The churches are supported mostly by the women,
who dress in black. Gray and blue are badges of the
lower class. As people rise in the world they don the
black. Besides, the finer the material the more indicative of higher social standing. So it has come to be a
proverb that the " women in black keep up the Church
in Mexico." Most of these old churches would be dark
and gloomy enough were it not for the many candles
which the faithful keep burning. Go into one at whatever hour of the day or evening you choose, there are
always many worshipers upon their knees murmuring
their Spanish prayers, or pouring their heart secrets into the ears of the padres at the confessional gratings.
One is almost amused at the fantastic colorings in the
churches. The taste of these Spanish fathers ran riot
along this line. The Holy Family, together with many
saints hejd sacred in the calendar of the Church, are
clad in all the colors of the rainbow. The images
of the Saviour^ are generally bloody and lugubrious,
often with blue hair and fanciful-colored legs, tissuepaper roses ornamenting the wounds in his side and
hands, while from the heart of Mary protrudes a
dagger.
At the risk of wearying the patience of the reader
with so many pictures of degradation, I must ask, Is it
to be wondered at that such appalling spectacles should
present themselves under the circumstances?—a land
where the Church favored despotism, and despotism in
turn upheld the Inquisition, which condemned men for
thinking that God ought to be obeyed before man!
What should be expected from a people who for three

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centuries have been under such rule? A convert to the
newer faith in Mexico writes:
" The political catechism of this blended tyrannytaught that the king ought to be obeyed blindly, while
the religious one declared that the * pope ' was infallible,
and that whosoever did not obey him would be lost forever. Under that teaching men did not even dare to
think, and, morally, became abject slaves. Mexico, at
the end of the last century, seemed closed to the Gospel,
but fifty years of independence have completely changed
the situation.
u
After our emancipation from Spain's tyrannical
government, having to seek among ourselves for the true
elements of political life, we keenly felt the sad prostration of our country, resulting from its former abject
condition. Suddenly thrown upon our own strength,
and not possessing the needed knowledge to enable us
to act wisely, we were hardly able to move forward in
the path of progress. We could realize our unfortunate
condition, but knew' not its cause. We wanted to progress, but would stumble and fall without knowing why.
T h e veil of our inexperience hid from our view what
ought to have been easily discerned. We longed to be
free, but liberty, like a mirage, would vanish from us as
we thought we approached it. The chains that had
bound us to tyranny had not yet been wholly broken.
We had achieved our independence from Spain's monarch s, but we had not yet obtained religious liberty.
Rome had not yet released its prey. At last, by sad
experience, we found in the Roman Church the real
cause of the impotence of our efforts to be free. Then
commenced a gigantic war against the dark fanaticism
caused by the' errors of the Church of Rome. Multitudes among us wished to free Mexico from that Roman tyranny that in the course of three centuries had

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

taken such deep root in our soil. We freed ourselves
from Spain's monarchs after eleven years of war, but
it has needed fifty years of contests, of heroism, and an
army of martyrs, to shatter the political power of the
Roman Church in Mexico/'
Mexico has no Sabbath. Her priests have taught the
people that the pope has the right and power to declare
that the sanctification of the Lord's day shall continue
only for a few hours, and that any servile work may be
done on that day. But where did the Roman pontiff
obtain power to do away with God's law ?
In the confessional the priests are instructed to ask
whether any work is done on fast or feast days, but no
inquiry is made about work on the Sabbath. The latter
may be violated because it is only a law of God, but the
former must be kept sacred because it is a law of the
Church. The poor Mexican has been taught that to
work for churches and monasteries was not forbidden
by divine law, for almost all the churches and convents
claim to be poor; therefore, men could lawfully work for
them on the Lord's day—domingo-—or they could reap
their grain, or plow and till the earth, providing the
fruits were given to the Church. Under such instructions, it is not to be wondered at that the seamstress could sew, the butcher slaughter his animals,
the baker make his bread, the hunter hunt, and the
fisher fish. Their religion does not interdict any sort
of business or amusement, however hilarious, on that
sacred day. Long ago it was decreed by the Church
that upon the entrance of a prince or nobleman into a
Spanish city it was lawful on Sundays to exhibit the
bull-fights, because such marks of joy are morally necessary for the public weal. As New Spain, the former title
of Mexico, was a copy of old Spain, the bull-fight has
ever been popular.
This brutal amusement always

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occurs either on a gala day or on Sunday afternoon.
One can imagine the unsacredness of the day when
such a scene as the following is the principal attraction. A recent writer, from a personal view of one of
these hilarious sports on a hacienda, says:
" A bull-fight costs no more than a ball, although the
best toro on the place be sacrificed, and the pay of professional fighters is about the same that skilled musicians
would receive for dancing music. Usually a horse or
two is also killed in the encounter, but these are the
aged and worthless ones, selected for the purpose because their days of usefulness are over.
After the
matadors, in their Spanish doublets and circus spangles,
have distinguished themselves by first tormenting the
bull to rampant fury and then dexterously killing him,
the dead beast is turned over to the rabble, who proceed to roast him whole, having already dug a hole in
the ground and built a fire in it, enjoying a grand barbecue under the open sky, while their betters are feasting on more dainty viands in the great hall of the mansion. On the evening after a bull-fight a ball is always
confidently expected to come off in the same 'ancestral
h a l l ' where the dinner was held, which the peons have
made haste to decorate with green branches and garlands of flowers, till it looks like an immense arbor.
T h e whole motley crowd of the day-time grace the festive scene by their presence—the peons squatted upon
the floor, wrapped in their blankets, too placidly happy
even for speech; agents of the hacienda; dipendieittes,
house servants, coachmen, bull-fighters, and the priest
of the establishment, while guests and family occupy
one end of the hall in the capacity of audience to their
numerous entertainers. T h e servants and peons perform the dances peculiar to their class and country, interspersed with quaint folk-songs, and, after each effort,

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make the most respectful salaam to the ' audience,' entreating the aristocrats to accept thanks for the honor
of their attention."
At Orizaba, while I was there, a bull-fight was held
on the Sabbath for the purpose of raising money with
which to pay for the altar-railing of a new church.
Bulls, horses, and services were all donated for the occasion !
The blazing summit of Mount Orizaba once shone
like a star through the darkness of the night, gaining
for it the Aztec name Citlaltepetl—" The Mountain of
the Star."
May another Star yet shine more effulgently on this
land so long held in darkness and superstition as in a
grip of steel!

THE

MARCH

OF SCOTT'S

ARMY.

241

CHAPTER XIX.
T H E MARCH OF SCOTT'S ARMY.
Feasts and flowers—Tomb of the brave—From mountain to sea
—The hero of Chippewa—The grim castle—Doomed city—Rain of
death—A sad wail—On to victory—Cerro Gordo and Perote—
Town of the angels—Pathway of conquest-r-Flanking the foe—
Battle after battle—Molino del Rey—Storming of Cliapultepec—
Entrance into the capital—A weak foe—A mistake—Cruel fate.

m

H E festival days in Mexico are very numerous, and
are particularly observed in the larger cities. It
is almost impossible for one not a native to keep track
of them. There were several fete days in honor of
somebody or something during my stay in the capital.
One of them occurred on the 5th of April, when the
whole population seemed to be given up to hilarity. The
streets and plazas were crowded with all sorts of people
in gala costumes. The great display of flowers offered
for sale at almost every corner was a noticeable feature
of the day, especially so in the markets. This is a land
of flowers, and they are surprisingly cheap, as any
one will learn who enters a zocalo to make a purchase.
T h e soil, the climate, as well as the popular taste, are
alike favorable to their culture. Think of purchasing
a bouquet composed of thirty or forty common blush
and white roses for twenty-five cents! Here you will
see lilies with leaves a foot or more in length, and
breadth to correspond.
The natives not only understand the science of floriculture, but they display great taste in the arrangement
of flowers for vases and baskets. The brown-skinned
16

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sefiora is rather handsome, too, when her ebon tresses
are adorned with richly-colored tropical blossoms. On
gala days, or at their special social and religious festivals, the atmosphere is often made heavy with the odor
of these choice floral beauties massed in clusters, pyramids, columns, etc. Just at that time my own patriotism was stirred, and I stepped into a zócalo and boughta very large and beautiful bouquet, for which I paid
thirty-seven and a half cents, to take with me to the
American cemetery, that I might place it on the monument erected to the memory of the soldiers who fell in
the war of 1847, when General Scott took the capital.
This burying-place is tolerably well cared for—quite
as much so as one might expect, seeing its owner, the
United States government, is so far away from it. Of
course some one is paid for looking after it, but just
how much looking is done I cannot say. There are a
number of other graves and tombs within the inclosure,
where reposes the dust of a number of American private
citizens who have died in Mexico. The chief attraction
to me at this visit was the monument erected by Congress
to mark the resting-place of the brave men who fell in
battle, or succumbed to fatal disease, in that celebrated
campaign. T h e following inscription tells the story. On
one side it reads:
" To THE MEMORY OF THE
A M E R I C A N
S O L D I E R S
W H O PERISHED IN THIS VALLEY
IN 1847,
W H O S E BONES, COLLECTED BY
THEIR COUNTRY'S ORDERS,
ARE HERE BURIED."

On the opposite side are the names of the battle-fields:
" CONTRERAS.
CHERUBUSCO.

MOLINO DEL R E Y .
CHAPULTEPEC
MEXICO."

T H E M A R C H OF S C O T T ' S A R M Y .

243

While General Taylor was operating on the line of the
Sierra Madre, the government of the United States ordered General Scott to attack Mexico on the east. That
order was issued in November, 1846. But many months
must elapse before he could put his plans into execution.
The army of Santa Anna was encamped at San Luis
Potosi when a large number of Taylor's best troops were
sent to join the army of General Scott in the attack on
Vera Cruz. Doubtless it was this movement which emboldened the great Mexican captain to march upon Taylor at Buena Vista. Such a depletion of the forces of
the latter would seemingly render a victory to Mexican
arms both possible and probable, and a victory of some
kind was wrhat Mexico and Santa Anna both wanted at
that time. The advance of the Mexican chieftain and the
rout of his army, in 1847, have been elsewhere described.
There was no prospect of any forward movement of the
army under Taylor in the direction of San Luis Potosi,
the expediency of which the general himself doubted, in
view of the long marches through a hot and barren region which such an advance would necessitate. The
wily Mexican commander was not blind to the fact, however, that his own troops could do what Taylor's could
not in such a climate. Mexico now assembled her
armies on the line between her capital and the principal
sea-port of Vera Cruz. It was reasonable to suppose
that her enemy would attack her on the front. Cortez
himself had entered the dominions of the Aztecs at this
very point, and fought his way to their capital along
the passes of the great mountain chain which bends off
toward the eastward.
General Winfield Scott was selected as the most fitting
person to command this army of invasion. H e had great
fame as a soldier. The laurels he had won at Chippewa
and Niagara had not entirely faded. So General Taylor

244

THROUGH THE H E A R T OF MEXICO.

was left on the defensive merely, while his superior in
office should conduct active operations on another theater of the war. T o prepare a suitable armament for this
campaign was left almost wholly to General Scott. The
first thing to be accomplished was the capture of the
city of Vera Cruz and the renowned castle built for its
defense in the harbor, if a mere roadstead can be called
a harbor. Though the order was issued in November,
1846, it was not until February, 1847, that the soldiers
of his command began to assemble.
The point selected for the rendezvous was the island
of Lobos, about twelve miles from the eastern coast,
between Tampico and the city to be assaulted. Lobos
has been called one of the " g e m s of the Blue Gulf."
It is a small coral islet, not more than three miles in
circumference, a spot where grow the choicest tropical
fruits, and where the climate is most delightful. Here
were gathered the land forces designed to invade and
complete another conquest of Mexico. Here* in these
blue waters of the great gulf, were the ships of war that
should take part in the struggle. That naval assemblage
and outfit were not as great as General Scott desired
them to be, but were the largest which the United States
had ever employed in any of its wars. On the north Mexico had been humiliated by the great victory of General
Taylor at Buena Vista, the tidings of which reached the
army of General Scott at this particular juncture of
affairs. It could not do otherwise than greatly increase
their zeal. Mexico was not only humiliated, but weakened by the reverses which had overtaken her armies,
and must have been dispirited when confronted at her
strongest point, the castle of San Juan d'Ulloa, by a
naval force of such magnitude as to dwarf her own into
utter insignificance.
It was on the 5th of March, 1847, t n a t

tne

harbor of

T H E M A R C H GF S C O T T ' S ARMY.

245

Vera Cruz saw assembled there a vast fleet of armed
vessels, whose canvas darkened the skies. They were
the frigates Cumberland and Raritan, with forty-four
guns each; the sloops of war Falmouth, John Adams, and
St. Mary., twenty guns each; the steamer Mississippi, ten
guns; the Princeton, nine guns; brigs Porpoise, Somers,
Lawrence, Perry, and Truxton, ten guns each; in all two
hundred and seventeen guns, and an army of thirteen
thousand men. With this combined land and naval
force General Scott had come to reduce the fort and
capture the city.
The castle of San Juan d'Ulloa is a large, round, stone
fortress, of a dingy yellow, built upon a small island out
in the bay, about half a mile from the city. There it
was that Juan de Grijalva, one s of the earliest adventurers in the service of the king of Spain, is said to have
landed, and where he found a temple in which human
sacrifices were offered to the Aztec deities. The Spaniards understood these offerings to be made in accordance with the command of the kings of Acolhua, one of
the provinces of the Aztec empire. The term Ulloa
is supposed to be a corruption of the former name,
Acolhua.
General Scott first reconn ottered the position, and,
though he was in command of powerful war vessels for
the times, he evidently thought it too much of an undertaking to begin the attack by the bombardment of
the fortress.
H e therefore decided to sail to the
southward of the city, and there, between the island of
Sacrifícios and the mainland, under cover of his guns,
debark his troops, which was done without the loss of a
single man. The landing was unopposed by the Mexican general in command of Vera Cruz.
The Mexican force in the city numbered only about
four thousand men aside from the castle, which con-

246

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

tained about one thousand. The castle was a proud
one. It is rumored t o - h a v e cost Spain $13,000,000.
It mounted a great many guns of large caliber: ten
eighty-four-pounders, ten sixty-four-pounders, ten fifteen-pounders, eight twelve-pounders, thirty-seven brass
and twenty-five iron twenty-four-pounders; besides
many mortars and a vast magazine of ammunition.
That old castle had stood a great many years and had
come through many a siege. In 1821 Vera Cruz, with
all its boasted strength, was besieged and taken by the
Revolutionists, and in the following year was retaken
by the Spanish troops. From September, 1823, to November, 1S25, it was bombarded three times by the
Spaniards, then in possession of the city. In 1825, the
castle itself was captured by the Mexican forces, and
the city enjoyed a season of repose. In 1838 both
castle and city were taken by the French. Poor Vera
Cruz has paid dearly for the privilege of being a seaport city. Between the guns of naval squadrons and the
vomito, which may be said to be perennial there, life is
hardly worth living. Yet they do live, and take great
pride in their city. The American commander was,
perhaps fortunately, not compelled to test the strength
of the castle. There was a better way. After landing
his forces on the south side of the city, he formed them
in a semicircle in its rear, at a suitable distance, so that
Vera Cruz was completely girt about, with an army in
the rear, and ships of war in front. Its capitulation
could only be a question of time.
On the 22d of March the Mexican commander was
summoned to surrender. This, like a brave man, he refused to do. Then General Scott opened his land batteries on one side, the ships opened theirs on the other,
and for four days these guns belched fortli their deadly
fires, pouring a constant shower of shot and shell on the

T H E M A R C H OF SCOTT'S ARMY.

247

devoted city, causing a most fearful destruction, not
only to property, but to life. In vain did the foreign
consuls plead for a cessation of hostilities*. Scott's only
demand was surrender.
On the morning of the 26th a
flag of truce was sent to the American general offering
terms of capitulation. It may have been foolish on the
part of the Mexican general and governor, Morales, to
attempt to withstand the shock of such an armament as
that which assaulted him, but it was heroic. Vera Cruz
fell, but was not dishonored. I will let a Mexican historian describe these terrible scenes :
" All was over with Vera Cruz. In vain had four or
five hundred of her inhabitants perished. In vain had
six hundred soldiers shed their blood, and four hundred of them been killed. The graves of those brave
men were not to be dishonored by the conqueror! . . . In
vain had the city suffered the ravages of six thousand
seven hundred projectiles of the weight of four hundred
and sixty-three thousand pounds thrown into it by the
enemy. Day dawned on the 29th. At eight in the morning the artillery saluted the national flag, which was displayed at Ulloa and on the land batteries, with the last
honors which the unfortunate but gallant garrison would
be able to pay to their standard. The fatal hour arrived.
The soldiers, in tears, divested themselves of their accouterments; and while stacking their arms some broke
them in pieces to avoid surrendering them to the enemy.
" The sacrifice was consummated, but the soldiers of
Vera Cruz received the honor due to their valor and
misfortunes—the respect of the conqueror."
That the picture may not be deemed overdrawn, let
one of our historians speak :
" Within the city the effect of the American fire was
terrible and destructive in the extreme.
The earth
shook at every discharge. Broad sheets of flame ap-

248

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

peared to leap forth from the batteries of the assailants.
Smoking ruins, crashing roofs and buildings, attested
the severity of the bombardment. The firm pavements
were thrown up in masses, and deep ridges plowed the
streets. The iron gratings of the balconies were torn
from their fastenings, and casements and lattices
shivered in pieces.
Wailing and lamentation were
heard in every part of the town. Fathers were stricken
down upon their own thresholds, and mothers smitten at
the fireside as they leaned over the helpless offspring,
who clung to them in vain for.protection. Stout manhood and decrepit age, the weak and the strong, fell
dead together."*
The objective point of Scott's movement was the city
of Mexico, and as soon as possible the victorious column
was headed toward the capital, about three hundred
miles distant. The Mexicans were " cast down, but not
destroyed."
They had the advantage of defending
themselves in their own mountain passes, and on
grounds with which they were familiar. An army of
thirteen thousand men occupied the heights of Cerro
Gordo, seventy miles from the coast. Santa Anna was
in command in person of the national forces at this
stronghold.
But the attack was made on the 18th
of April, the heights were stormed and carried, and
once more the Mexicans were forced to surrender.
Their position was a strong one, fortified, as they were,
on hills of considerable elevation, the principal one being Cerro Gordo, which towered far above the others,
rendering the attack exceedingly hazardous.
The
struggle was severe and determined on both sides, continuing through two days. In this action General Scott
lost, in killed and wounded, four hundred and thirty-one
men, of which number thirty-one were officers. T h e
* Jenkins's " Hist. Mex. War."

T H E M A R C H OF S C O T T ' S ARMY.

249

Mexican loss was great. When the battle was nearly at
an end, and the result certain, Santa Anna fled on the
back of a mule, leaving behind a part of himself, his
cork-leg, and a chest containing $16,000 in silver coin.
The city of Jalapa next surrendered, to a division of
the army under General Twiggs, without firing a gun.
Jalapa knew she had had, and could continue to have,
her revenge on the world in the use of her old-fashioned
drug, jalap, which is produced there from a native root.
If the soldiers who composed the invading army had all
been compelled to take jalap when they were boys, certainly they were ready to take it now, that they were
men, without compulsion. The city is on the old stageroute between Vera Cruz and the capital, about sixty
miles north-westerly from the former, and is a favorite resort for health and pleasure seekers in this part
of the republic. It is now connected by rail with the
sea-port. Next followed, in quick succession, the fall
of Perote, a walled city, with its great stone castle, said
to be one of the strongest in the country at the time.
The spirit of resistance was now so weak that Perote
was also given up without an effort at defense. This
point is about four thousand feet above the level of the
gulf. The invading army had to feel its way through
a hostile country, whose mountain passes were the
natural hiding-places of guerrilla bands, so that it moved
slowly. On the 15th of May, General Worth's division
entered Puebla, a city of sixty thousand inhabitants,
without meeting any appreciable opposition. Here, in
Puebla—La Puebla de los Angeles—the " town of the
angels," sometimes called the " City of a Hundred
Churches," where its ranks were re-enforced by fresh
troops from the coast, the army rested for many
weeks. Puebla is an old city, founded in 1531. It
lies in plain sight of Popocatepetl, which rises in majesty

250

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

south-westerly of the city, towering above it in solemn
grandeur. It is the capital of the State of the same
name, and lies in a beautiful valley over seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. Puebla is fair
to look upon. The population is now about seventyfive thousand. It is the seat of a famous college, and
has a museum of considerable note. Among its industries may be mentioned factories for making cotton
cloth, porcelain, and glass. It also has an iron foundry
and flouring mills. The Mexican onyx works, too, are
famed. It is the second city, in point of wealth and importance, in the republic. The streets are broad and
well-paved, the churches numerous, grand, and imposing. Its plaza and alameda have an air of brightness
which renders them inviting. I visited the college, and
wandered for hours through its halls, corridors, library,
and garden, impressed with the scenery and associations
of the place. Cholula, with its great pyramid, the
largest in the world, is only ten miles from Puebla.
In August the army marched toward the capital. T h e
route selected by General Scott was that followed by
Cortez, which lay between the two great snow mountains,
Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl. The first point of importance was at Pennon, less than a dozen miles from
the city of Mexico. The place was strongly fortified by
Santa Anna. General Scott might have taken it at a
great loss of life, but concluded to pass it on the right.
Pie took a direction south of Lake Chalco, and thus
compelled the Mexican army to evacuate Pennon. At
Contreras a severe battle was fought on the 19th of August, in which the rout of Santa Anna's army was complete. His loss in killed and wounded wras estimated
at two thousand men ; many prisoners were taken, with
arms and munitions of war. Among them two pieces
of artillery were found, which had been captured from

T H E M A R C H OF S C O T T ' S ARMY.

25r

General Taylor on the field of Buena Vista. About four
thousand five hundred men of Scott's army were engaged
in this conflict, only sixty of whom were killed. The
Mexican loss was unknown. Thus another defeat was
added to the long list. Still they were as determined as
soldiers could be under the circumstances. The battle
of Cherubusco followed the next day, and again these
defenders of their soil were put to flight before Scott's
victorious troops. This was a hard-fought battle, in
which more than a thousand Americans, including
seventy-six officers, were' killed and wounded. The
Mexican loss was reported at seven thousand in killed
and wounded.
The American general had now reached his objective
point—his army was in the vicinity of the capital. The
scenes were exciting. That army was being rapidly
depleted under the influence of disease and the bullets
of the Mexicans, and he was forced to press forward
rapidly to final victory. Just then an armistice was requested by the Mexican commander, which was granted.
Scott's whole effective force was now reduced to eight
thousand five hundred men. H e was in the midst of a
hostile people., But it came to the knowledge of the
American commander that Santa Anna only wanted an
armistice for the purpose of strengthening his works
and recruiting his army, and not for peace, and hence,
on the 8th of September, General Scott issued orders
to advance to the capture of Chapultepec. Near the
castle stood Molino del Rey (king's mill), then used as
a manufactory of arms, and where the Mexicans were in
great force. A battle followed, in which the Americans
lost nearly a thousand of the rank and file, and fifty-nine
commissioned officers. T h e Mexicans lost in this engagement, in killed and wQunded, three thousand men.
The battle of Molino del Rey, next to Buena Vista, is

252

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

said to have been the severest and bloodiest engagement
of the war. Here it was that General Worth lost a
quarter of his entire division. About three thousand
five hundred Americans engaged in terrific combat more
than ten thousand of the enemy. Of the fifty-nine officers who fell, eighteen died on the field. T h e Mexican
loss in killed and wounded was reported at two thousand, besides losing a thousand who were taken prisoners. The war was approaching its close—both armies
realized the fact—and hence the terrible onslaught of the
one and the heroic resistance of the other.
The principal obstacle now to be overcome was
Chapultepec, the Gibraltar of Mexico—"Grasshopper
Hill," in plain English. The castle is built upon a rocky
eminence about one hundred and fifty feet in height, and
is to Mexico what the famous rock castle is to old
Edinburgh, and reminds one of it. Within its fortifications once stood the palace of the viceroys, under the old
Spanish regime. The only practicable ascent to the castle
was on the west and south-west sides, which were very
rugged and steep. Within its defenses were said to be six
thousand men, under command of General Bravo, a distinguished officer. On the 12th of September General
Scott determined to begin an assault. U p to this hour
the Mexicans had lost every battle, from Palo Alto, on the
Rio Grande, to Buena Vista, on the line of the Sierra
Madre, and from the capture of Vera Cruz to Molino
del Rey.
General Twiggs was sent to the south of the city to
make a feint and draw attention to that quarter, while
early in the morning the batteries opened their fire on
the castle, continuing the bombardment throughout the
day. On the morning of the 13th, storming parties advanced to the attack. General Pillow began the ascent
on the west side, in the face of a deadly fire of cannon

T H E M A R C H OF S C O T T ' S ARMY.

253

and musketry. Slowly over rocks and chasms the
advance was made. Mines had been laid, but so hard
pressed were the defenders by the assaulting column
that they had no time to spring them. Their works
were strong, but the day to them was lost. Scott's troops
were within the walls—Chapultepec had fallen! This
lost, all was lost, for the castle commanded the city.
On the night of the 13th, after the fall of this stronghold, Santa Anna's army evacuated the capital, and on
the following day, the 14th of September, 1847, General
Scott entered it with his army. The bands played
" H a i l Columbia" in the Plaza Mayor, and the flag of
the United States floated over the " Halls of the Montezumas." At the storming of Chapultepec the Mexican
loss was severe—1,000 were killed, 1,500 wounded, and
800 prisoners were taken. The American loss was 130
killed and 704 wounded.
The war was ended. Our troops held the position
they had gained until in time the commissioners of the
two governments met at Guadalupe de Hidalgo, and
signed the treaty by which the United States came into
possession of what is now our great South-west.
As I stood on the heights of Chapultepec and looked
down on the surrounding plain, it seemed almost marvelous that it could have been taken by a force so small
as that which assaulted it. The explanation lies in the
fact that the Mexicans were inherently weak, the soldiers
were poorly disciplined, and the people behind the army
were not united. Their generals were jealous of each
other, thinking far more of themselves than of their
country, and on almost every battle-field they were
rivals for place and power. The rank and file were
poorly armed, poorly clothed, poorly fed, and worse
paid. It was a victory to the American arms, but a victory over a weak antagonist.

254

T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

General Grant, who learned his first lessons of war in
Scott's campaign in Mexico, is reported to have stated,
when standing on the parapet at Chapultepec, in one of
his visits to that country, that General Scott made a
mistake in his march upon the capital. H a d he carried
Pennon, and gone around the city to the northward, he
could have captured Chapultepec as easily as he did,
and at the same time avoided the series of battles at
Contreras, Cherubusco, and Molino del Rey, thus saving
the lives of thousands of his troops. The chief point
was to gain the castle, for with that in his possession
the country would be conquered and the war ended.
Now that forty years have passed away since the
victories, of Scott and Taylor, it is no reflection upon
American patriotism to ask, For what purpose was all
this bloodshed ? The answer is mainly that American
slavery might have more soil in which to take root and
grow strong. Does it not seem strange that these
people of a sister republic should be slaughtered on
their own territory, that helpless women and innocent
children should be made to feed the flames of war by
laying down their lives thus to fasten the chains of*
slavery more securely on the limbs of American Negroes ? Such is fate.
I placed the bouquet on the broad base of the monument directly under the names, " Contreras," u Cherubusco," " Molino del Rey," " Chapultepec," " Mexico,"
for however unrighteous that war the brave men of
the army who marched with General Scott from Vera
Cruz to Chapultepec were not its authors, but merely
its agents. I could, with equal sympathy, have placed
another on the monument erected in the grounds of the
castle in honor of the equally brave men who fell in its
defense at this battle, which virtually terminated the
march of Scott's army.

F R O M SEA-COAST TO M O U N T A I N C R E S T .

CHAPTER

255

XX.

FROM SEA-COAST TO MOUNTAIN

CREST.

Variety and change—Flowers and birds—Beauty and death—
Yawning chasms—Perpetual snow—Toward the crest—Popocatepetl—Silver and gold—Agave plantations —Plains of Salazar—
Strange meeting—The maguey and its uses — A city on a hill —
A curse—How I was treated—Markets and marketing—Religion
and sport—"Doing the bear," or courting under difficulties —
A fatal meeting of two lovers—Home life.

E X I C O is noted for its extensive table-lands—

the
of
plateaus
MK globe. most remarkablefrom all the tropicaldegree of
on the
They stretch
the sixteenth

north latitude, with a varying breadth, to the limits of
the tropical zone.
I have elsewhere spoken of this land as being one of
great extremes in its population. Considered geographically it is pre-eminently so. When the traveler
approaches Mexico from the ocean, he first comes to
the low hot lands which border it, where the climate is
tropical. These are the tierras calientes in Mexican
physical geography. Extensive sandy plains, on which
grow only the mimosa and prickly-pear, stretch away
before you in one part, while broad savannas, darkened
with the shade of palm groves, lie before you in another.
Along the water-courses the landscape fairly glows with
the exuberant splendor of equinoctial vegetation. The
high, steep banks of the streams approach near to each
other, and the graceful branches of the cotton-wood,
the fan-like leaves of the palmetto, the velvet foliage of

256

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

the magnolia, together with the long, trailing moss which
hangs from their boughs, unite to form one splendid
picture of nature which is often beautifully mirrored in
the still, clear waters beneath them. Away from these
the soil in many sections is parched and quite barren.
Vines and creepers of various orders festoon the
branches of stately trees; brilliant-hued flowers give
color to the landscape, and wild roses, honeysuckle,
and jasmine impart their delicate fragrance to the air.
Amid this dense foliage of leaf, bud, and flower, humming-birds of gorgeous plumage and butterflies of resplendent wing find their paradise. Here is heard the
notes of the clarine, not the handsomest, but the sweetest, of all the feathered songsters of this tropical clime.
But, alas! this region confirms the couplet in the old
hymn,
" W e should suspect some danger nigh
Where we possess delight."

Along with this beauty of color, richness of fragrance,
and sweetness of song, malarial influences are generated
by the decomposition of the rank vegetation, which
renders the tierras calientes the most unwholesome
sections of the globe. From vernal to autumnal equinox this part of Mexico is the home of fevers, which
are most destructive to human life.
Here the season is perpetual, flowers are ever in
bloom, green fruits and ripe hang on the tree boughs
the year through, and the farmers' crops follow each
other in endless succession. The hot lands have their
limit at about sixty or seventy miles back from the coast,
where the traveler begins to ascend into a region of
purer and healthier atmosphere. Now the vegetation
changes its character continually. The fig, the broadleaved banana, the sugar-cane, the vanilla, indigo, and

F R O M SEA-COAST TO M O U N T A I N C R E S T .

257

other plants belonging to the low hot lands disappear.
An elevation of four or five thousand feet is soon attained,, where tropical verdure has given place to the
flora of the tierra templada, or temperate land. T h e malarial influences of the coast cannot rise into this region
of mists and clouds. The oak, the cypress, the camphor
and the coffee tree have come into the field of vision now.
The railroad sweeps around the base of mighty mountains, which a thousand years ago poured their fires in
vast deluges on the plains below. Now on your right
and then on your left great chasms yawn, adown whose
precipitous sides one may look a thousand feet. Still
upward you go to where fields, waving with the golden
wheat or glossy-leaved corn, are interchanged with
plantations of the agave, which attains its greatest perfection on these table-lands. In this zone the thermometer indicates a temperature of about seventy to
eighty degrees during the day in the summer, but sinks
to about fifty or sixty degrees in the night-time. Our
course is onward and upward. There is a region still
higher and colder, called the tierra fria, or cold land.
This is the last and highest of the terraces of Mexico.
The line of perpetual snow is reached at about fifteen thousand feet, but at ten thousand the temperature
becomes almost too cool for comfort. If the tourist
chooses to continue his journey on upward toward the
summits of the mountains he will pass through every
variety of climate and every zone, from that of tropical heat to the regions of perpetual snow and ice—from
where the palm-tree waves its banners in the sultry
breeze to the lichen-covered rocks whose jagged outlines fret the southern skies.
I felt that I could not leave Mexico until I had placed
my feet on the highest accessible point short of the summit of her greatest snow mountain. The latter I did
17

258

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF MEXICO.

not wish to ascend, for good and sufficient reasons. An
opportunity was offered to go west over the National
Railway, in a special train, toward Morelia, to spend a
few days on the western Sierras. Leaving the Colónia
station at the capital in the early morning, we passed
the castle of Chapultepec, on our left, just as the signalgun was fired, and in a very short time were well out of
the valley of Mexico, and were beginning to ascend the
slope toward the Pacific Ocean. The grade soon grew
very steep, and the iron horse had to labor hard to overcome the influence of the earth's gravitation. When
we had reached the Rio Hondo we were a couple of
hundred feet above the domes of the city, and had
entered the foot-hills that bound the Vale of ancient
Anahuac. The first stopping-place was Huisquelucan,
which they pronounced " whisky-lookin'." The scenery
here is very fine. The railway track crossed great
ravines, which are spanned by massive iron bridges,
with roaring* brooks below you. But up we climb
from point to point, sometimes traveling many miles
around the head of a barranca too wide and deep to
bridge, and then coming back around a great curve to
the starting-point again—a railroad above you, a railroad
below you, but all the same railroad, so that it has been
said, playfully, the passenger on the platform of the rear
coach in the train can light a cigar from the fire of the
engine as it sweeps by him.
From these high points one can look down on the
valleys below, where many small farms, divided by long
hedges of the maguey, dot the landscape. These Aztec
people raise corn a n d vegetables for the city market,
and cultivate the maguey plant for the pulque which it
produces. The land in the valleys and deep gulches is
rich enough, but the mountain sides are exceedingly
barren. As in other mountainous regions before de-

FROIM S E A - C O A S T TO M O U N T A I N C R E S T .

259

scribed, little is seen beside the stunted nopal-cactus,
mesquite, and some species of dwarfed pine. The view
of the distant valley of Mexico, with its lakes, is simply
grand, made all the more so from the blue mountain
ridges far to the eastward in the dim distance. At last
we reached the summit, which is about ten thousand
feet above the gulf level. In ascending the eastern
side the barrenness is marked, but almost the instant you approach the edge of the plains of Salazar
the whole aspect changes. The sterility, the stunted
growths, the desolate look, are gone, and greenness and
thrift have come in their stead. Why ? Because after
crossing the summit we enter a region touched by the
moisture-laden breezes of the Pacific Ocean. At this
point we were nearly three thousand feet above the
capital, and were beginning to descend toward the valley of the Rio Lerma. Our party remained for twentyfour hours on the Llanos de Salazar.
This is one of
the highest railroad stations in the world. That of
Leadville, on the Union Pacific, and Arroyo, in Peru,
are higher, the latter being at an elevation of more than
eleven thousand feet. The train was a special, sent out
by the railway company for the accommodation of some
artists and newspaper correspondents, whose business it
was to make sketches of the scenery and write up the
road. We could stop at any point we chose. We were
one day on the summit of the Sierras, seated around
our table at twelve o'clock, noon. Sitting there at dinner I felt impressed with the strange coming together of
people and things. T h e dining-room car was built in
York, Pennsylvania. Our colored cook, " Jimmie," was
from Jamaica. The gentlemen composing the party were
from Mexico, England, Australia, and the United States.
Soup was served made of oysters from Baltimore. The
canned corned beef was from Chicago. The bread was

26o

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

Mexican. T h e canned butter came from Copenhagen,
Denmark. The crackers we ate boie the stamp of u Oswego." The mustard was put up in Paris. T h e cheese
was from England. The coffee was native. The only
thing that seemed lacking was something to breathe, the
atmosphere at this elevation being so rare. One of the
Englishmen of our party provoked considerable laughter
when he said, solemnly, that he did wish he could have
a " good mouthful of fresh Hinglish hair."
Mexico is a land of mountains and valleys. The
mountains are a continuation of the Cordilleras of South
America. In the extreme south they are mere hills, but
soon begin to rise, and in latitude 19o reach a mean elevation of nine thousand feet above the level of the
sea. Their direction through Mexico, from Tehuantepec, is to the north-eastward.
When they reach 20 o
north latitude they divide into three ranges. T h e eastern bears off toward the Atlantic, in the valleys of which
are nestled the beautiful and prosperous cities of Monterey, Saltillo, and San Luis Potosi. The western range
traverses the States of Jaslisco and Sinaloa, and then
disappears in northern Mexico.
The central range runs through the States of Durango and Chihuahua, decreasing in altitude as it extends northward. I crossed two of these ranges, the
first in passing from Monterey to Lagos. For many
hours we climbed skyward, until we gained an elevation
of eight or nine thousand feet, where the air was greatly
attenuated. The middle range was crossed on the way
toward Morelia.
No account of this magnificent natural scenery which
comes into view as one passes from sea-coast to mountain-crest would be at all complete that did not include
some reference, at least, to the great mountain peaks,
Orizaba, the Cofre de Perote, Iztaccihuatl, Popocatepetl,

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261

Nevado de Toluca, Ajusco, and Colimo. All of these
have altitudes of more than 11,000 feet, and, lying along
a vent in the earth's crust running nearly east and west,
some of them were formerly active volcanos. But the
greatest of all these great mountains is Popocatepetl,
which, by the earlier measurements, was given an altitude
of 17,884 feet above sea-level, but is, by more recent
barometrical observations, believed to be much higher.
Taking in the Pico del Fraile^ the upper rim of the crater
which no human foot has ever yet pressed, or ever will,
quite likely, and allowing for it 2,000 feet, Popocatepetl
has an altitude of nearly 20,000 feet.
Few travelers care to ascend into this region, and
when they do so it is generally for the purpose of being,
able to boast of a feat involving great courage and
powers of endurance. The labor required to gain even
the. highest accessible point is quite too great to justify
the undertaking by the ordinary tourist. Besides, at
that elevation the atmosphere is exceedingly rare, and
consequently there is always a liability to hemorrhage
of the lungs, or sudden death from heart derangements.
As the ascent is mostly undertaken simply from motives
of ambition or curiosity, only such as are perfectly
sound in body should attempt it. At that great elevation the temperature is very low, which is also quite
trying to the system.
Though possessed of perfect health, I did not attempt
the ascent of any of these peaks, notwithstanding I was
urged to do so. It was full enough for me to see
them and learn how to pronounce their names. Take,
for example, Iztaccihuatl, the White Woman.
Does
the reader desire to know how to pronounce that terrible Aztec word ? Here is the prescription. First seat
yourself in a good stout chair. If you have false teeth
in your mouth, remove them, so they may not drop

2Ó2

T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

down your throat and interfere with your digestion.
Take firm hold of the arms of the chair. If possible,
brace your feet well against the wall, throw your head
back against the chair, fill your- lungs, and^ let drive !
If it comes out Iz-tack-sea-watl, with the accent on the
<k
sea," it will be sufficiently correct for all practical
purposes.
But one can poorly conceive of the magnitude of
Popocatepetl by reading about it, or viewing it from
a distance. Go in any direction you may in the valley
of Mexico, that vast irregular cone is in sight, standing out before you in silent and awful grandeur.
What must it have been some thousands of years
ago, when it poured its fiery lava over all the region
round about. From its lofty summit the two oceans
that wash America may be seen when conditions are
favorable.
The crater is elliptical in form, and, according to M.
Boscovitz, an eminent authority, is 5,000 feet in its longest
diameter. The gullet of this giant has never been disturbed since the discovery of the New World ; but in
former times it must have thrown out molten matter
abundantly, for thick beds of ashes and scoria are
found for more than twenty leagues beyond its base.
Wherever it has been possible for them to accumulate
their mass in some places displays a depth of 150 feet
and over.
The top of the volcano is covered with snow at all
seasons, and, by a strange contrast, says the writer above
quoted, <k its once blazing summit, now extinct, has become an emblem of the alliance between the regions of
winter and the empire of fire."
The crater of this grand mountain is about one thousand feet deep. The descent was formerly accomplished
by means of a windlass and rope, and was made for the

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263

purpose of procuring sulphur. At the bottom were
found great deposits of snow, while long stalactites of
ice were hanging from the projecting rocks, where the
sun never strikes, or where they are not molested by
the jets of heated vapor that even now are emitted
from the crevices of the earth. It is commonly believed that Cortez obtained sulphur for the manufacture of powder in this crater, but that may only be a
tradition.
The silver mines of Mexico are not in these particular giant mountains, though it is more than likely that
within them, and far beyond the possible reach of man,
infinite quantities of the precious metals lie concealed.
The silver mines of Mexico are mostly between 18 o and
24o north latitude, and are generally found on the west
side of the Sierra Madre.
Guanajuato, Catorce, Zacatecas, and Pachuca are the
most noted centers of silver production. The Real del
Monte, at the latter place, is one of the richest in the republic. It was there I saw silver bars piled up in the
hacienda like cord-wood. The Count de Regia took
from this rich vein $5,000,000 in twelve years, [t has
been stated by good authority that two thirds of all
the silver in the world has come from the mines of
Mexico. U p to 1880 they Jiave yielded the precious
metal to the value of twelve billions of dollars. There
are probably three thousand mines in that land of mineral wealth, but only a few comparatively are valuable
in a high degree. The yield now is about $25,000,000
a year of silver, and $3,000,000 of gold. Mexico produces ten times as much silver as is furnished by all
the mines of Europe. But O the people ! the people!
the extreme poverty of the people ! The mountains
are full of silver and gold and copper and zinc, etc.,
yet most of these people you meet throughout the

2Ó4

T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

country are barefooted, and have scarcely clothing
enough to cover their nakedness. They hew the silver ore out of the mountains by the ton every day,
and yet are the owners of nothing ; verily their fate
is pitiable.
Through all this up-land region the maguey plant, the
American agave, sometimes called the " century plant,"
is one of the chief productions, and, like many other
good things, may be abused. Its heart is the source of
the national beverage—-pulque—the curse of the people.
But, in fairness, it may be stated that this plant is not
wholly evil. The uses to which it is put are numerous.
For instance, the fiber of the leaf is a thread in common
use for sewing coarse cloth. The thorn on the point
of the long leaf can so be cut as to remain connected
with the fibers, thus forming a natural needle and
thread. A very good quality of paper is made from
the bark of the leaf. The leaves, being very large and
thick, are frequently used for thatch on the huts of the
poor. The plants are arranged in rows, and make excellent fences. The material of the maguey is wrought
into baskets, hats, fans, hammocks, curtains, etc. When
young it is fed to the cattle, and when old and dried
can be used for fuel. When the plant has attained the
age of about seven years there flows from the base of
the central stem a sap at the rate of two or three gallons per day for half the year ; this is the juice which
furnishes the before-mentioned pulque, regarded by the
natives as drink, food, and medicine. There is a little
romance about almost every thing ; even the pulque
plant is not destitute of it. I have read the following
fable concerning it :
" A noble Toltec, named Papantzin, found out the
method of extracting the juice from the maguey, and
sent some of it to his sovereign, Tecpancaltzin, as a

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265

present by his daughter, the beautiful Xochitl, the flower
of Tollan.
" Enamored alike of the drink and the maiden, the
king, wishing to monopolize both, retained the lovely
girl a willing prisoner, and in after years placed their
son upon the throne. This was the beginning of the
troubles of the Toltecs, who had then enjoyed peace for
many years. That alliance led to their eventual dispersion and extinction, all brought about by the hand of
woman and through the means of strong drink." T h e
old story of " wine and women."
Through all his disasters, however, the Indian has
clung to his pulque, each generation adding to the acres
of maguey planted by their ancestors, and at the present
time its consumption has reached enormous'proportions.
That which, in our own country, comes nearest the
maguey plant in point of usefulness, without any of its
bad qualities, is petroleum, which furnishes a good many
substances that enter into our daily life. For example :
it yields a volatile gas, that illuminates our dwellings; a
lubricating oil, for machinery; naphtha, used for mixing
paints and dissolving gutta-percha ; asphaltum, for making varnish to brighten up our furniture, as well as for
roofing our houses and paving our streets; parafine, for
candles and chewing gum; carbolic acid, for disinfecting
purposes; and various aniline dyes, employed in giving
the richest colorings to silk fabrics; besides, in its combustion, it serves for cooking our food and heating our
dwellings.
The valley of Toluca is famous for its pulque, as one
can readily learn from the extent to which the maguey
plant is grown. The city of Toluca, with one exception,
is the highest city in the republic. From the main
plaza the famous mountain Nevado de Toluca is in
plain sight. A professor in the college here informed

2Ó6

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF M E X I C O .

me that the Pacific Ocean, one hundred and sixty
miles distant, can be seen from the summit of the
mountain, and that the Gulf of Mexico can also be seen
with a good glass. The mountain is snow-crowned
during most of the year. I was pleased with the city of
Toluca, for it presented a cleaner appearance than some
others through whose streets I had wandered. But, like
the capital, it is cursed with pu/quer ias—the ubiquitous
Mexican gin-mill. There is a great deal of drunkenness
in Mexico, but very little quarreling and fighting. This
universal beverage of the people is plenty and cheap,
costing only a penny a glass, or three cents a quart.
When drank freely it produces stupor. A native informed me that when a growing boy commences the
use of it his mental powers begin to wane, and he rapidly becomes stupid. T h e ancient Aztecs, long before
the days of Cortez, employed it to produce intoxication.
Other stimulants are used as well—mescal aguardiente*
" fire-water," brandy, whisky, wine, beer, etc.
It is
claimed that drinking pulque does not cause headache,
nor does it fire the brain, like mescal or whisky. So
much of it is consumed in the metropolis that there is
a train on the Mexican railway which comes in every
day from the gulf region, called the " pulque train,"
whose earnings are a thousand dollars a day from that
traffic alone. I saw one morning, in front of a marketplace, a huge and clumsy cart, drawn by a yoke of oxen,
on which there was a great, black-looking sack of very
curious shape, out of wThich an animal of some kind had
been extracted,, which was filled with pulque. This was
the " bottle " of the Scriptures, and it was a huge one.
It was not a " wine-skin," as the Revised Version has it,
but a pulque-skin. This drink is said, by some persons,
to be a very wholesome and nourishing beverage, and is
declared to be a specific for dyspepsia and kidney affec-

FROM SEA-COAST TO M O U N T A I N C R E S T .

267

tions. All classes use it, and regard it as the Irishman
does his whisky, as a " good creature of God." I tasted
it one day, on advice of a friend, when in a region where
water was scarce and unwholesome, but did not relish
it. One must learn to like it by continued use, as he
learns to like garlic, tortillas, and chile. That pulque
tasted to me about like a mixture of sour milk, Dutch
cheese, pickle-brine, soap-suds, and petroleum ! The
little which I sipped, as an experiment, on that occasion
treated me very meanly before morning.
T o get a fine view of the rich valley of Toluca, I
ascended the cupola of the college with one of our
party, and was not only delighted with the panorama
before me, but was fortunate enough to meet a professor who could converse in broken English. There were
about two hundred students in the institution and a
dozen professors.
It was gratifying to visit a college in Mexico. She
needs modern schools more than any thing else; schools
which teach science, language, art, criticism, etc., instead of so much catechism. They have had the latter
for centuries, and the result is very apparent. Dr.
Ellingwood says:
" Popular education has been hitherto unknown.
Until recently the great mass of the people have been
kept in entire ignorance. Within a few years several
States have established primary schools, and private
schools have been opened in the cities. The facilities
for acquiring an education are being rapidly increased,
and it is reasonably hoped will soon become universal."
One of the professors in the college at Toluca in-r
formed me that primary education has been declared
compulsory, but he admitted that the law in this case, as
in a good many others, is largely a dead letter. There are
at present in the whole republic about 9,000 public ele-

268

THROUGH THE H E A R T

OF MEXICO.

mentary schools, attended by 300,000 pupils, and 138
schools of higher grade for professional education, attended by about 15,000 students. The school fund has
reached as high as $3,000,000 a year, all of which is a
promising sign.
The market-place at Toluca was the cleanest and
most orderly of any I saw. The main market in the
capital is very large, the throng is generally very dense,
the sights curious, and the odors, as one pushes about
among the motley crowd, not the most agreeable to
the olfactories of a sensitive mortal. There are plazas
especially devoted to marketing where every thing
in the form of a commodity is sold. Here you can
purchase vegetables and fruit to your stomach's content. There are stands where all kinds of beverages
are for sale, patronized, alas ! too freely by the populace. If your taste runs to jewelry, the venders of
cheap trinkets are on hand to ask large prices, and then
take small ones. If dry goods are wanted, they are
abundant. Pigs, poultry, and pottery, or any thing else
you want or don't want, you will be urged to buy. In
some places the municipal governments have erected
buildings, which shield the heads of both buyers and
sellers from the scorching sun, but in the smaller villages
generally the market vender must make his own booth,
which he does by putting up two or three poles, and
spreading his blanket over them. In all these market
places the sights are odd enough. The sellers, whatever
their sex, usually sit on the ground, with their goods—
fruits, vegetables, candies, toys, etc., etc.—piled up in
front of them in little heaps on straw mats, or bits of
manilla cloth, or perchance on the bare ground. The
men sit silent and taciturn under their broad-brimmed
sombreros, while the women are generally garrulous and
at times not a little coquettish. They are not at all

FROM S E A - C O A S T TO M O U N T A I N C R E S T .

269

particular about hiding their forms from view. The
buyer can depend upon it that either sex will get the
best of the bargain if possible.
The market-places^ often have wells and fountains,
where the water-carriers congregate, and where mischievous boys take great delight in playing their pranks
on each other—for boys are boys the world over. A
good many people deal in second or some other hand
articles in all the market-places and about the portales.
One can find a great variety here. A man will spread
out his old piece of cloth on the pavement or ground
and cover it over with rusty nails, screws, files, old pistols, swords, fragments of iron, door keys, photographs
torn from old albums, crucifixes, cheap pictures of
saints, and sets of false teeth that show signs of long
use in somebody's mouth.
Only servants and sight-seers go to market. A lady
or gentleman of position would not think of such a thing.
A native woman of social standing is seldom seen on the
streets, and never unattended. She may walk to church
in broad daylight accompanied by a friend or relative,
or if a servant follows close behind her. By the social
customs she cannot even ride in her own carriage with
only the coachman in front. She certainly would not
go to market and mingle with the rabble. Sabbath is
the great market-day of the week, and is spent between
business and pleasure. On Saturday afternoon the roads
leading to the cities are thronged with men, women,
and even children, carrying on their shoulders great
bundles of vegetable produce, charcoal, poultry, crockery, and every marketable thing, or driving donkeys
laden with these same articles, to be sold on Sunday.
At break of day the work of selling begins, and there is
more bartering on that day than any other in the week.
Then comes mass in the churches, when they pay their

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

devotions to Mary. Marketing over and prayers said,
the Plaza de Toros, or Bull-Pen, is the next to receive
attention. The bull-fight is the event of the day, and
usually begins at four o'clock in the afternoon, continuing two or three hours. The more brutal and bloody the
better. Then follow drunkenness and revelry the rest
of the day, when the sensual crowd find their way home
only to repeat this the next Sunday. I was credibly
informed that in the interior of the country even the
priests, in some instances, take a lively interest in these
wild sports. They have been known to hurry through
the mass, and then, with their game birds under their
arms, enter the lists at the cock-pit, and bet as freely
as any of the crowd.
Young people in Mexico do their courting at a great
disadvantage. The young men usually pass up and
down the streets, between the hours of five and eight
o'clock in the afternoon, where reside the objects of
their admiration.
A young senor fixes his eyes on the balcony or window of a young senorita's residence, that she may recognize him by some sign, if she, like Barkis, " is willin*,"
or decline his overtures by turning abruptly away.
Right here in Toluca, two years ago, a couple of young
gentlemen were both interested in the same senorita,
and by accident met simultaneously in front of her
residence to " do the bear"—hacer el oso, as they call
it—that is, court the fair young lady. Of course they
quarreled, and one of them drew a knife and stabbed the
other fatally. Whether she regarded the survivor all the
more as a hero and married him or not I did not learn.
Perhaps she was sensible, and discarded him. A story
is related of a young lady who had three admirers, two
of whom pressed their suits so persistently that she went
to sea to escape their attentions, and, lo ! they both

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271

followed her on the same vessel. What to do she did
not know—the dilemma was great. However, she consulted the captain, who advised her to leap into the
ocean, and then choose the one who had courage enough
to come to her rescue. So she plunged in and both her
lovers leaped heroically after her. If her dilemma was
great before, it was greater now. She could not marry
both of them, and so wedded the one who remained at
home and attended to his business.
The young man can get a glimpse of his lady-love
when she walks with an attendant in the plaza, or he can
follow her to church, and, while she is worshiping a dead
saint, he can be watching a living one. But keep at a
respectful distance he must until some third party intercedes in his behalf. If she drives out shopping in
the evening he will be very likely to perambulate along
the sidewalk after her carriage. He does not expect to
speak to her, unless by the merest accident. If she
casts one single smile on him he is restful. Then he
promenades regularly before her residence, walks under her window, or signals to her from a door-way
across the street. Besides, they have a language of
flowers and of the fan and the cigarette; all alike are
made to do Love's errands.
A few gracious smiles
from her embolden him to write a note, w7hich he incloses in a bouquet and throws upon the balcony, or
places it in her hands by some trusty servant of the
household. But all is uncertain yet; he may fail in his
enterprise, for even Mexican damsels are sometimes coquettish. If he belongs to an influential family, he can
easily procure the kind offices of some one who will propose him as a fiance for the young lady. If he is accepted, then he can pay his addresses in person and
"converse with her, but even then only in the presence
of the relatives.

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

It must require a deal of love, and no less of patience,
to be compelled to walk up and down in the hot sun or
descending rain, stand for hours in some friendly doorway, and do one's courting at long-range for months, and
sometimes years. But this is the price the senorita demands for her heart and hand.
There is far too little home-life among these people.
Marriage by the priest involves a cost of about a dozen
dollars, and by the alcalde, or magistrate, two dollars.
But the devout Catholic would rather live without marriage, and in violation of God's law, than to have his
matrimonial bonds executed by a civil officer. So, being too poor to pay the priest, and too religious to be
married by a civil magistrate, he lives in a state forbidden by divine law. This sin is prevalent through all
this land, from sea-coast to mountain crest.

SONGS IN THE N I G H T .

273

C H A P T E R XXI.
SONGS IN T H E

NIGHT.

The departure—Town of the angels—Cholula and its great pyramid—Down the mountain slopes—Wild scenery—Fearful chasms—
The plains below—City of the " T r u e Cross"—On ship-board—
Home—After-thoughts—From Montezuma to Wesley—Sale of the
shrines—Outlook from an azotea—The *4 Southern Cross"—Motley
crowds—The two civilizations—The Bible in Mexico—New ideas
—Possible reaction—Signs which follow—Telephones, railioads, etc.
—Growl of the priest—A land for invalids—Patience—Progress.

H E dream of my boyhood days was at last fulfilled
—the long-cherished hope had become a reality.
I had, at the least, taken a hurried glance at old Mexico
with its unequaled natural scenery and its strange and
tragic history, and now the time had arrived for my departure. It was in the gray of the morning, when matin
bells were clanging in the towers of a hundred churches,
that I started on my way toward the blue gulf. T h e
journey lay over the Mexican Railway. A whole chapter might be written descriptive of that route and the
scenery through which it passes. The road, which is a
masterly stroke of engineering skill, was the conception
of some English capitalists half a century ago, and is,
consequently, through a portion of the distance, one of
the oldest railways on the continent of North America.

33

Owing to the numerous revolutions which have characterized the history of Mexico, it has been under the
rule of forty different presidencies, and has proved the
financial ruin of a great many people in consequence of
the fluctuations in the price of its stock. Alas for
18

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

human ventures ! Though of only moderate length, such
was the difficulty in climbing the mountains, that it was
nearly forty years in building, costing not far from
$50,000,000.

I looked forward to the trip coastward with pleasurable anticipations. After wandering for some weeks over
the table-lands amid clouds of dust, groves of cactus,
and plantations of maguey, the thought of going down
once more where the normal atmospheric pressure of
fifteen pounds to the square inch prevails was refreshing.
Our train, that morning, was off on time. The roacl
passes out of the valley of Mexico in a north-easterly
direction, close under the dome of Guadalupe, and thence
on through the narrow space between Lakes Texcoco
and Xaltocan, soon coming in sight of the famous pyramids of San Juan Teotihuacan. Thence it bends to the
south-east. In a few hours we were in the country of
the Tlaxcalans—a people who were made to figure conspicuously as the rivals of the Aztecs in the days of the
conquest. T h e first objective point was Puebla de los Angeles—town of the angels—to reach which a change of
cars was made at Apizaco. Puebla lies in a broad plain,
with the great snow mountains in full view, distant about
thirty miles to the south-west, while Mount Malinche,
named in honor of a woman, Cortez's interpreter, lifts
its frowning head in the east. Puebla is one of the finest
cities in the republic. I could only tarry there a couple
of days, during which time, after visiting the great cathedral, the onyx works, the college—Colégio del Estado—
and strolling through the Paseo Nuevo, taking a look at
the new prison, then in course of erection, and visiting
the mission of the Methodist Episcopal Church, a detour
was made to the far-famed pyramid of Çholula. Gladly
would I have tarried longer in such a place.
Think
of a pyramid covering forty-five acres at its base, and

SONGS IN T H E N I G H T .

275

rising to a height of two hundred feet. Some say it is
a natural hill faced with adobe. Even if that be true,
great was the devotion of the people to their gods when
so much hard work was done in their honor.
Christianity has a lesson to learn even from pagans.
Returning to Apizaco, on the main line of the Mexican Railway, the journey was pursued over broad plains
covered with fields of maize and wheat and plantations
of the maguey plant ; and anon down, down, down fearful grades, around enormous bends, the road often skirting the borders of huge barrancas thousands of feet in
depth, rocks piled on rocks, twisted and contorted in
wild confusion; mountain peaks towering far above
peaks of less altitude, plains spread out before you in
the dim distance! On the left are the glittering summits of Orizaba and San Andres, farther away still the
great Cofre de Perote, outlined against the blue sky.
Passing the cities of Orizaba and Cordoba—the latter
in a famous coffee-growing region—we were soon whirling along over the dusty plains of the tierra caliente.
which extend from the base of the mountains to the
gulf—now over vast stretches of sandy waste, and ndw
amid palm groves, banana and pine-apple gardens, interspersed with clumps of orange and lemon-trees and
other tropical fruits, whose names are difficult to spell,
and even far more difficult to pronounce. Besides, the
voice of the mosquito was heard in the land !
A few more hours of dust and heat and we were
landed in Vera Cruz, a city without a carriage or coach
of any kind, public or private, for there are no driveways within its borders ; not like old Venice either,
with its gondolas—a city without even the smallest
suburb, in fact—a walled city, built of stone and brick
on about one or two hundred acres of land, the port of
entry for a nation of more than ten millions of people,

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

where nine tenths of all its foreign commerce pays duty,
and, alas ! the perpetual home of the much-dreaded
vomito.
I remained there only a day, and not without some
risk at that. I had been on the mountains and over the
table-lands, but was now on the sea-coast, and the
change was delightful. The temptation to wander about
the old city could hardly be resisted. I visited one or
two antique churches, adorned with the usual assortment
of gaudily arrayed Marys and grotesque images of saints
seen every-where else in this country. I sauntered out
along her main paseo, sat down under the shade of her
cocoa-palms, watched her far-famed zopilotes sitting on
the corners of the towers—a crow-like bird that does
the street-cleaning without getting up rings and jobs. I
was soon on board the steamer, which was lying close
under the walls of the dilapidated old castle of San Juan
d'Ulloa, which is said to have cost the Spanish sovereign $13,000,000 to build, and which would crumble into
ruins before a dozen modern rifled cannon in twentyfour hours. Our steamer took her course along the gulf
coast, halting at the different ports of southern Mexico
to load and unload freight of various sorts, principally
Jeniquen, or hemp, until she reached the Ultima Thule
of Mexico—far-away Yucatan. Thence she steamed
across to Cuba, and, after three days of tropical sweltering in the spacious harbor of Havana, and perambulating through her narrow and filthy streets—not forget-,
ting to visit what is claimed to be the tomb of the great
Columbo—we passed out under the guns of Moro Castle
and pursued our way northward around the coast of
Florida, coming in sight of Key West. Then we felt
that we were, indeed, homeward bound.
Fourteen days after waving our adios to Vera Cruz I
landed in New York, having journeyed in all about eight

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thousand miles by land and sea without serious accident
or permanent hinderance of any kind, arriving at my
home within seven hours of the time designated for the
return before setting out upon the journey; and such are
the facilities for travel in this age of the world that I
could have reached it on the very train and at the precise hour named had it been absolutely necessary to
do so.
Now hear the conclusion of the whole matter. T h e
question is not, What has been seen? Where have I
traveled ? but what has been learned of our sister republic ? What are her relations to the great family of
nations ? What the hinderances to her progress? What
the signs of her redemption ? What are her chief wants ?
How can the " United States of the North " serve to the
best advantage the " United States of the South ? "
What if, for centuries past, Mexico has been groping
her way in the dark ? What if her people have been literally crushed under the heels of political and religious
despotism ? Shall the great Protestant world turn from
her and feel no sense of pity, nor reach out a helping
hand in the time of her greatest need ?
The traveler in this land, though confronted on every
side with symbols of the old regime^ will not fail to
note that a very decided change is coming over the
face of society. Like the cloud on Mount Carmel, it
is not yet much li larger than a man's hand," but it betokens a shower of blessings yet to fall on poor, bleeding Mexico. The change is necessarily slow, but then
all great social and religious reforms are essentially slow
in their movement.
During my sojourn in the city of Mexico I was favorably situated for observing men and things. Through
the great kindness of our resident missionaries I was
allowed the use of what my lady hostess called her

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" sky parlor"—a comfortable room built on the azotea—
the flat roof of what was once known as the Church and
Convent of San Francisco—then the greatest of its kind
in all Mexico, but now the property, in part, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. In the days of its ancient
glory it covered several blocks of land, a massive stone
and brick structure, and, but for its great central dome,
resembled far more a fortress than a church. On several Sabbaths I worshiped in this old pile with a good
congregation, composed mostly of converted Mexicans.
We were led in our singing by two native boys, not
much, if any, over sixteen years old. One of them presided at the organ, the other played a cornet creditably. Thus led, we sang the familiar hymns, translated
into Spanish, which we sing at home, set to music we
have known from childhood. A strange feeling came
over me as I first sat on the platform in that beautiful
auditorium, once the court, or patio, of the convent,
large and elaborately designed, erected on the very spot,
it is said, where some hundreds of years ago there stood
one of the old Montezuman pagan temples.
This building was one of the many sequestrated by
the government, under the leadership of Juarez, in 1859,
when the new order of things began, up to which time
the Church owned, directly or indirectly, nearly every
thing in the country worth owning. The Liberal party
saw that this vast ecclesiastical power must be broken,
and, with a mighty and fearless stroke, dealt the blow.
The convents and nunneries were broken up, and monks
and nuns were banished the country, or compelled to
live some other sort of life.
Hundreds of these churches and convents were taken
possession of by the civil authorities all over the land.
Many of them, like this one, were sold to the highest
bidder; others stand vacant and idle at this hour. Some

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of them have been converted into school buildings, or
have been utilized for mechanical industries. I passed
one in my rambles, on one occasion, in which I heard
the sound of a buzz-saw, and could not help thinking
how much more practical religion there was in that
sound of industry than ,in the meaningless tinkling of
bells and the incessant mumbling of prayers once so
common within those walls.
As I stood on the azotea of this old ex-convent of San
Francisco, evening after evening, when I came in from
my walks, at about ten o'clock, there came into the field
of vision a constellation in the heavens never seen in the
North, the magnificent "Southern Cross." It was generally very bright and beautiful, and seemed to hang just
a few degrees above the horizon. To me it was a symbol of Christ's reign, and, like Constantine of old, I, too,
could exclaim, " I n hoc signo vinces"—Under
this sign
thou shalt conquer. Mexico has had the cross as a mere
symbol for ages, but she has known nothing of the real
life of the Gospel, the possession of which will make
her a conqueror in the end. But Christ is here in fresh,
new power, let us believe, and the natives are waking up
to a better life.
From this eminence I could not only look up into the
brightest oi tropical heavens, but could also look .down
upon the hundreds of acres of azoteas which stretch
away before one's view. I could count the domes and
towers of the almost innumerable churches which had
been erected through the three centuries of Catholic
supremacy, and could behold the motley crowds of men
and women, in thoroughfare and plaza, intent in their
pursuit of either business or pleasure. But what a
change has come over Mexico, that this very building,
once the stronghold of Romanism, located in the heart
of this great city, on the great Calle de San Francisco,

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

should now be cut up into sections, run through bystreets, and be devoted to the printing of Protestant
books, the preaching of the Gospel by Protestant ministers, and the education of the young in the elements
of the new faith! Surely some agency has been at
work to produce such a change as this. Mexico has
been Catholic, but will yet be increasingly Protestant.
Romanism has put forth great efforts to possess itself of
the whole of the New World. She planted her colonies
all around the continent of South America and through
Central America, besides making a strenuous effort to
get control of the whole of North America. For three
centuries that effort was continued unabatingly and with
vigor. The fail of the Old French power in North America gave the territory now embraced in the United States
to the Protestant cause. Mexico, as a Spanish colony,
fell into the grasp of Romanism, and remained there.
One hundred years before the settlement of Jamestown, in Virginia, Brazil, Hayti, Cuba, Central America^
and Mexico were centers of the Catholic religion in the
western hemisphere. Pizarro conquered Peru nearly
one hundred years before the Mayflower anchored in the
waters of Massachusetts Bay. Buenos Ayres, on the
east coast, and Santiago, on the west coast of South
America, were founded nearly two centuries before the
settlement of the empire State of Georgia.
The Amazon was explored seventy-five years before
the Hudson was known to civilization. As early as
A. D. 1519 Ferdinand Magellan discovered and named
the strait which bounds South America on the south.
All these events took place a full century before our
fathers laid the first foundation stones of the great Protestant republic.
Behold now the two great sections, and see the difference between them. How grandly does the Protest-

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ant civilization of the North tower above that of the
Catholic in the far South ! " Look at South America,
with rivers that are deeper, with plains that are broader,
with seasons that are longer, with a climate more temperate, with fruits more luscious, with soil that is richer,
with every thing necessary for superior productions; yet
South America remains to-day a country whose wealth is
unpossessed, whose forces are unreduced to meet humanity's wants. Compare its railroads, its domestic
commerce, its internal navigation, its foreign trade, its
private and public wealth, and it dwindles almost into
insignificance relatively to its territory.
a
What has this civilization produced in great and
striking personalities ? There are names that will appear in local histories, but who has giveiiv birth to a
great thought that the whole world welcomes ? Whose
life has entered into the life of the whole world and
become a part of it ? Where are the names that will
stand beside those of Franklin, Fulton, and Morse?
Or, on the other hand, what has this civilization produced in the elevation and culture of the masses of
people ? "
One of our missionaries answers these questions by
declaring that the aborigines are as truly pagan now as
when they were under the dominion of the Incas.
When these countries were colonized, Spain stood at
the head of human governments. She should have been
able to send out sturdy scions that would have developed a more than average growth. Yet the production
has been, with little exception, an aggregation of unstable
republics, whose histories have been but annals of revolution. They seem to lacjk the power to assimilate the
different elements and create an organic union. There,
too, is Mexico, where the same power has reigned, and
though possessed of every element of national wealth,

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T H R O U G H THE H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

" beautiful for situation," she has yet been without either
prospect, honor, or peace.
The hope of Mexico is not in her soil, her climate, or
her mines. These are the bases of her physical wealth,
it is true. Religion and education have to do with a
people's greatness. Her old religion has depressed her
spirit and dwarfed her intellect. A new one alone can
redeem her ; a new religion, with the improvements it
brings with it along all lines of daily life.
It is, only a trifle over half a century since the first
Protestant Bible found its way into Mexico. Little bylittle has the light crept in. When the American army
invaded that country in 1846, a few copies of the Holy
Scriptures, along with some religious tracts in Spanish,
were scattered among the people. Thus it has often
happened that the sword in the hand of the warrior
has prepared the way for the Prince of Peace. Some
precious seeds of truth were in tjiis way cast into Mexican soil.
Miss Rankin, a lady of piety and zeal, began her
work on the lower Rio„Grande in 1852. Though relatively small, it was indeed great in its results as an
entering wedge. The American and Foreign Christian
Union next entered the field, and was soon followed
by missionaries of the American Board. In 1863 Protestantism was formally inaugurated in the beautiful
city of Monterey. Then, in 1871, it was established in
the capital of the republic.
In 1872 the Friends
Foreign Missionary Association and the Presbyterian
Church both began work. In 1873 the two Methodisms
occupied chosen fields, and have pushed their forces to
the front. T h e Associate Reformed Synod followed in
1877, and the Southern Baptists in 1880. The Protestant world is surely awake to the spiritual needs of these
poor people.

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There are now scattered throughout the republic
ninety-eight ordained and about the same number of
unordained ministers of the different denominations.
About one hundred and fifty colporteurs and Bible
agents are engaged in evangelistic work. Every Sabbath witnesses the assemblage of more than three
hundred congregations of Protestant worshipers, many
of whom occupy well-built churches of their own.
Church communicants number over sixteen thousand,
against none in 1869, with nominal adherents of about
twice that number. Six thousand Sunday-school children are enrolled in the Protestant schools.
The
day-schools number about three thousand children.
Four theological seminaries have been established for
the training of native young men for the ministry, and
within ten years more than fifty millions of pages of
religious literature have been issued from the different
Protestant presses. These churches and religious agencies of the new order are planted in leading centers from
Chihuahua and Monterey in the north to Progreso in the
extreme south. In no country on the globe is there an
opportunity to preach the Gospel to a greater number
of willing hearers, at so small an outlay of money, as in
this our sister republic. T h e friends of the Protestant
cause, however, let it be remembered, greatly fear a reaction from liberalism through the influence of the
Church party, which is possible, and, were it to take
place, would not only endanger their cause, but greatly
impede the progress of the new civilization. Therefore
let the friends of Mexico do their whole duty in this
great struggle for the redemption of a people. ,On this
point one who has long resided there writes :
" We who have been on the ground during all these
years have seen with pain and sadness this gradual relapse and the growing indifference and coldness toward

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Protestantism on the part of many life-long Liberals,
and the open hostility of some who were partisans of
the reform. In the city of Mexico this change is not so
noticeable, for the large foreign population there has a
wonderfully liberalizing effect.
But throughout the
country at large this change has been increasingly observable during the past three years. The construction
of railroads and the establishment of other enterprises
under the auspices of American capital and direction
have greatly alarmed the clergy and the masses, lest it
should all lead to American domination in this country.
As one of the results, there has been greatly increased
opposition to Protestantism ; the priests have worked on
the credulity of the people and aroused their religious
zeal; religious festivals have grown in importance ; pilgrimages have been revived ; old churches have been
repaired and new ones built ; processions forbidden by
law have been freely tolerated in many places ; and
outbreaks against Protestants have become alarmingly
frequent."
The above was not written in any spirit of complaint,
but only to show the need of a deeper devotion to a
cause which must not be deserted through either fear or
discouragement.
With Christianity has always gone a grander and
broader civilization. Touch the brain of a people with
the " truth as it is in Jesus Christ," and you stir thought
out of which will come naturally all the improvements
of commercial and industrial life. In Mexico things
are changing. In all the cities through which one
passes it is noticeable that American ideas especially are
gaining the ascendency. T h e Yankee is abroad in the
land putting in telephones by the hundred in the different cities. One cannot walk'the length of any business
block in any city scarcely without hearing the click of

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the sewing-machine, or seeing something distinctively
American. Policemen and soldiers are almost invariably
armed with American pistols and rifles of the most approved pattern. American organs and pianos are on
sale at the great centers of trade. American mechanics are introducing planing-mills for manufacturing
sashes and doors and other building material. In the
principal cities street-car lines have been established,
after the American method, and often by both American
enterprise and capital. In the larger cities our modern system of electric lights is employed in illuminating the streets and plazas. The railroad interests, too,
are largely in the hands of Americans, who not only
furnish the capital, but conduct the enterprises. The
thoughtful native cannot fail to see this inroad upon
the ancient order of things, while the wily priest is unsparing in his denunciations of these aggressions, and
would doubtless gladly banish these modern improvements and reinstate the old regime of pppular subserviency and priestly domination.
There is a little danger, however, that the American
love of money-making may crowd too many improvements upon Mexico for her own financial good. This is
especially true with respect to railroads. There is not
enough business at present to employ profitably all the
roads built and being built. But, then, eventually they
will bring in new, fresh life, which will create enterprise
and capital. The Mexican Central line, from Tampico,
on the gulf, across the country to San Bias, on the
Pacific coast, will become naturally a highway of the
nations, greatly shortening the distance between the far
East and the West. The opening up of new routes of
travel and the adoption of improved methods will essentially change the whole aspect of things. If the
scream of the locomotive will not wake up the old Toltec

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T H R O U G H T H E H E A R T OF M E X I C O .

and Aztec dead, it is stirring the lethargy of their living
representatives.
Pleasure and health seekers in large numbers will yet
find their way to the cities of Monterey, Saltillo, San
Luis Potosi, and other points, to spend the winter
months where the climate is simply perfect. The only
or main reason why this has not already been a sanitarium for invalids has been the difficulty of getting
there. This the railroads have effectually removed.
And furthermore, we are likely to be a little impatient with our Mexican neighbors, and to censure
them because of the seeming tardiness with which they
accept the new ideas. That was a mistake we of the
North all made at the close of our civil war. We
expected the people of the South would in a couple
of years see the error of their ways and fall into line.
We forgot that for two hundred years they had been
educated to believe in the divine right of slavery. A
body of people changes slowly. So the Mexicans are
changing slowly. We must not expect any great and
sudden revolution. They have much to unlearn. Protestantism is the leaven which is hid in the three measures of meal, and in time will leaven the whole lump.
Mexico, though far from being really prosperous, is
more so now than ever before. The revenue comes
nearer meeting the expenditures of the government.
It has in operation not far from three thousand miles of
railroad, against almost none ten years ago. The only
line in existence then was that from Vera Cruz to the
capital, which was begun in 1837 and completed in
1873. Her army is larger and better equipped than
formerly. Emigration, for almost the first time in her
history, is being talked of with encouragement. The
mines are producing more native silver, and the mints
are coining more dollars, than in previous years. Cot-

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ton-mills are manufacturing more fabrics for home use,
while agriculture, the basis of a nation's thrift, is taking on new forms wherever modern methods have been
adopted.
Is Mexico making substantial progress? Let the
reader judge. Since the overthrow of the Maximilian
dynasty, in 1867, they have established a free constitution, embodying those essential guarantees of liberty
which the Anglo-Saxon race regards as fundamental.
The Church and State have been effectually and permanently divorced, and in that divorcement the vast
and ill-gotten estates held by the Church have been
largely secularized, and thus a power that could always be used in the interest of despotism was forever
broken. H e r free constitution guarantees the right of
free speech, the freedom of the press, liberty of conscience in the worship of God, universal suffrage, trial
by jury, and the subordinating of the military power to
the civil. The primary-school system is, also, an outgrowth of this modern "thought, and never could have
been had the old priestly tyranny continued to rule in
that land. In short, Mexico is a republic formed chiefly
on the basis of our own.
From the smallest conceivable beginnings, less than
half a century ago, have come these great changes,
which must now advance, for revolutions never go backward. A writer in the New York Evangelist recently
summed up this subject in the following pertinent language :
" Mexico is our neighbor. She has been unfortunate.
T h e centuries of Spanish rule left her in the condition
of the man who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho
and fell among thieves. The Maximilian dynasty, designed to retain her in civil and religious thralldom, was
the finishing blow of foreign usurpation. Since its over-

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OF MEXICO.

throw Mexico has been returning to consciousness; has
been striving to become a nation. Great changes have
already been effected for the better. Greater still remain to be effected, and to secure these she appeals to
us by her mute misery, and by the lips of her most patriotic and eloquent sons, for help. We are interested
in her welfare. She shares the continent with us. Her
destiny is ultimately to be associated, if not identified,
with ours. She is a sister republic, feeble, burdened
with heterogeneous and debased elements, largely a
prey to ignorance and civil anarchy, yet striving on the
whole nobly to assume a proper position among the
nations. Her natural resources and enterprise are
steadily inviting the investment of our capital and enterprise. Their importance is conceded, and sagacious
statesmen cannot but recognize the claims to national
sympathy which she presents. è . . The truth has been
spreading. Christian institutions have been springing up. Revivals have taken place which give assurance that even Mexico may be transformed by the
power of the Gospel. She is in some respects in a condition not unlike that of the nations of Europe at the
dawn of the Reformation. H e r own bitter past is full of
instruction and warning. She is not disposed to go
back to the "experience of subjection to that spiritual
domination which has cursed her so long. She is accessible, as never before, to the enlightenment of the age,
to the enterprise of the century. T h e present seems
the hopeful spring-time of her regeneration."

THE END.