Aztec Land Part 9

There are many personal relics of Cortez shown to the visitors at the munic.i.p.al palace; but the intelligent observer, aided by the light of history, finds it difficult to accord much admiration to this man. He is represented to have been handsome, commanding in person, brave, but far from reckless, and to have possessed strong magnetic power over his a.s.sociates and those whom he desired to influence. He was eloquent and persuasive, exercising an irresistible control over the half savage people whom he came to conquer. Another secret of his influence with the authorities at home, in Spain, was his never-failing fidelity to the legitimate sovereign, and the shrewd despatch of rich presents and much gold to his royal master. We know him to have been ambitious, cruel, heartless, avaricious, and false. He deserted his faithful wife in Spain, a second in Cuba (whom tradition accuses him of murdering), and was shamefully unfaithful to the devoted Marina, mother of his acknowledged son, she who was his native interpreter, and who more than once saved his life from immediate peril, finally guiding his footsteps to a victorious consummation of his most ambitious designs. Cortez owed more of his success to her than to his scanty battalions. If nothing else would serve to stamp his name with lasting infamy, the infernal torture which he inflicted upon the ill-fated Guatemozin, for the purpose of extorting information as to the hiding-place of the imperial treasures, should do so. The true record of the life of Cortez reads more like romance than like the truth. This is not perhaps the place to refer to his private life, which history admits to have been perfidious.

Landing on the continent with a band scarcely more than half the number of a modern regiment, he prepared to traverse an unknown country thronged with savage tribes, with whose character, habits, and means of defense he was wholly unacquainted. We know that this romantic adventure was finally crowned with success, though meeting with various checks and stained with b.l.o.o.d.y episodes, that prove how the threads of courage and ferocity are inseparably blended in the woof and warp of Spanish character.

Just above the town, on the hillside, is the ancient convent of San Francisco, which contains over one hundred paintings more than two centuries old. The old church of San Francisco, close at hand, dates from a period, three hundred and seventy years ago, when Mexican history often fades into fable. The approach is over a paved way, and through a road bordered by a double row of old trees, which form a gothic perspective of greenery. The convent now serves in part for the purpose of a military barrack, before which stand a few small cannon so diminutive as to have the appearance of toys. A few soldiers lounged lazily about, and some were asleep upon a bench. Probably they were doing guard duty after the Mexican style. On the hillside above the church of San Francisco is a modern church, and beyond it a Campo Santo.

This gray old church, the oldest in Mexico, is certainly very interesting in its belongings, carrying us in imagination far into the dim past. "The earliest and longest have still the mastery over us,"

says George Eliot. This was the first church erected by the Spaniards in Mexico, and was in constant use by Cortez, who, notwithstanding his heartless cruelty, his unscrupulous and murderous deeds, his gross selfishness, faithlessness, and ambition, was still a devout Catholic, never omitting the most minute observances of church ceremonies, and always accompanying his most questionable deeds with the cant phrases of religion. The roof of the church of San Francisco is a curiosity in itself, being upheld by elaborately carved cedar beams, which were imported from Spain. In a side chapel is preserved the original pulpit from which the Christian religion according to the tenets of the Church of Rome was first preached in the New World, and also the stone font in which the native Tlaxcalan chiefs were baptized. The defacing finger of Time is visible on all perishable articles. One or two of the mediaeval paintings were scarcely more than tattered, drooping canvas, presenting here and there a shadowy human figure or a clouded emblem. We were shown a series of religions vestments, said to have been worn by the first officiating priests in this ancient church; but we instantly realized that they could not be so old, for such articles would long ago have become too frail to hold together, whereas these were exposed upon an open table, and were freely handled by any one who chose to do so. They were of a light, thin texture, silk and satin, and elaborately trimmed with gold and silver lace.

One is shocked on observing the roughly carved figures of bleeding saints and martyrs, with crucifixion scenes and mangled bodies, suspended from the walls of the church. "The repulsive and ghostly images, paintings, and mechanical contrivances, common in the small towns and villages, are mostly banished from the capital and other large cities," says Hon. John H. Rice, in "Mexico, Our Neighbor," "in obedience to the demands of a more decent civilization. They are used, however, where most practicable (representing the crucifixion and diverse rites and ceremonies of the church), to hold in awe and superst.i.tious thralldom the weak and untutored minds of the degenerated children of the republic; and so to extort from them the last dregs of their poverty-stricken purses."

The prevailing style of this Tlaxcalan church, as well as that of the churches generally which we visited throughout the country, is of the Spanish Renaissance. Puebla, Guadalajara, and the city of Mexico contain cathedrals which will compare favorably even with those of continental Spain, where the most elaborate and costly religious edifices in the world are to be seen to-day. The plans of all these churches came originally from Spain, and builders from thence superintended their erection. The parish church of Tlaxcala, situated on a street leading from the plaza, has a curious facade of stucco, brick, and blue glazed tiles. In this edifice was seen an interesting picture representing the baptism of the Tlaxcalan chiefs already referred to. This was an event which was of local importance, perhaps, at the time, but which is without a shadow of interest to-day, though it is duly emphasized and repeated by the guides. The dome of the church was destroyed by an earthquake so late as 1864. Near this church are the ruins of a chapel, the facade of which is still standing, and on which are displayed the royal arms of Spain.

Regarding the dwellings of the poorer cla.s.ses of this region, as well as of the country generally, they are of the most miserable character, wanting in nearly all the requirements of health and comfort. They consist of adobe-built cabins, wherein the people live, eat, and sleep upon the bare ground, without light or ventilation, except that which comes in through the open door, and where drainage of any sort is not even thought of. Mud cabins on the bogs of Ireland are not poorer places to live in. In the warmer regions, the common people live in mere huts of cane, consisting of a few poles covered with dry plantain leaves, palms, or cornstalks, made into a thatch by braiding and twining them together. A mat woven of dried husks and laid upon the ground forms the only bed. Neither chairs, tables, nor benches are seen in these cabins,--they are unknown luxuries. In the more tropical regions of the country, the cabins have no sides, the thatched roof coming down to near the ground, thus forming only a screen from the rain during the season of the year when it falls. A sort of instinct causes the common people of the tropics to seek some sort of shelter from the stars when they sleep; but half the Indian population of Mexico do not see the inside even of an adobe cabin from one year's end to another. The universal food depended upon to support life, besides the wild fruits, is the preparation of corn called tortillas, and a few vegetable roots. The grain is pulverized by hand between two stones, made into a paste or dough, and eaten half baked in thin cakes. We are, of course, speaking of the poor Indian people, but they form probably two thirds of the population, especially in the rural districts. These natives make their own fermented liquor. On the coast it is what they call palm wine, and rum from sugar-cane; on the table-land, it is pulque, from the maguey plant,--their delight and their curse. After the maguey has yielded its sap to the last quart, and begins to wilt, there appears in the stalk a nest of white caterpillars, which the Indians consider to be a great luxury, and which they eat with avidity, besides which the roots of the exhausted plant are boiled and eaten, possessing considerable nutritive properties. The native people of New Zealand exhibit a similar appet.i.te.

When the trunks of the tall kauri trees, which have been uprooted by storms, have lain so long upon the moist ground that they begin to decay, a large worm breeds in the decomposing wood; these, when arrived at maturity, are eagerly grubbed for and devoured by the Maoris. Our ideas of what const.i.tutes proper food for human beings are governed by very arbitrary rules. The Chinese consume dogs, cats, and rats; the j.a.panese and Africans are fond of monkey flesh; the Parisians often eat horse-meat from choice; while some of the South Sea Islanders have still an appet.i.te for human flesh. The London gourmand revels in snails, and the New Yorker demands frogs upon his bill of fare. Is the New Zealander so very exceptional in his fancy for wood-worms? Green goose and broiled chicken are among the delicacies of our table, and yet there is scarcely any sort of foul garbage which they will not consume as food.

Why is their flesh considered more delicate than any other?

The better dwellings of Tlaxcala are nearly all adobe houses, standing in a rough, hilly region on the eastern slope of the mountains which inclose the valley. It is difficult to conjecture what possible industry keeps the place alive, for, though interesting to the thoughtful traveler and the scientist, it has no visible business activity beyond the exhibition of the antiquities to which we have referred, but seems to smoulder in a sort of moss-grown, picturesque decay. The seats of the old, half-forgotten, and neglected plaza were occupied by groups of idle natives, who regarded us with a dull, sleepy interest. A few laden burros pa.s.sed through the streets bearing charcoal, wood, or bags of grain, and others with high panniers of straw lashed in compact form.

They carried their noses close to the ground, picking up any edible object--banana skins, orange peel, bits of garbage, and similar sc.r.a.ps.

This small creature which carries such enormous loads seems to eat anything, no matter how little nutriment it contains, and, strange to say, keeps in good flesh. The single candy shop under the arches beside the plaza did a lively business with our party while we remained, its members having suddenly developed a marvelous appet.i.te for dulces.

Bright-eyed boys and girls, with a paucity of clothing and any amount of good looks, met us at each turn with hands extended, and a cry of "Centavo, centavo!"

It was to Tlaxcala that Cortez and his small band of followers retreated when the natives of the valley of Mexico rose and in desperation drove him from their midst. Here, after some months devoted to recuperation and being joined by reinforcements from Cuba, he prepared to lay siege once more to the Aztec capital. Part of this preparation consisted in building a number of small, flat-bottomed boats in pieces, so that they could be transported over a mountainous district, and put together on the sh.o.r.e of Lake Texcoco, thus enabling him to complete the investment of the water-begirt city. It sounds ludicrous in our times to read of the force with which the invading Spaniards laid siege to a nation's capital. His "army" consisted of forty cavalrymen, eighty arquebusiers and cross-bowmen, and four hundred and fifty foot-soldiers, armed with swords and lances, to which is to be added a train of nine small cannon, about the size of those which are carried by our racing yachts of to-day for the purpose of firing salutes. Of course he had a crowd of Tlaxcalans with him, the number of which is variously stated, but who could not be of much actual use. More than one of these veracious Spanish historians states the number to have been one hundred and twenty thousand! So large a body of men would have been a hindrance, not a help, in the undertaking. Cortez neither had nor could he command a commissariat suitable for such an army, and it must be remembered that the siege lasted for months. "Whoever has had occasion to consult the ancient chronicles of Spain," says Prescott, "in relation to its wars with the infidels, whether Arab or American, will place little confidence in numbers." We all know how a French imperial bulletin can lie, but Spanish records are gigantic falsifications in comparison. This siege lasted for over six months, and finally, on August 13, 1521, Cortez entered the city in triumph, hoping to enrich himself with immense spoils; but nearly all valuables, including those of the royal treasury, had been cast into the lake and thus permanently lost, rather than permit the avaricious Spaniards to possess them. Cortez's final success of this invasion caused it to be called a "holy war," under the patronage of the church! Had he failed, he would have been stigmatized as a filibuster.

A brief visit was paid to the palace once occupied by Cortez, and now the residence of the highest city official. It has been so modernized that nothing was found especially interesting within the walls. The hot sun of midday made the shade of the ancient trees on the plaza particularly grateful, and the play of the fountain was at least suggestive of coolness. Sitting on one of the long stone benches, we mused as to the scenes which must have taken place upon this spot nearly four hundred years ago, and watched the tri-colored flags of Mexico floating gayly over the two palaces. In the mean time, the swarthy, half-clad natives, regarded curiously and in silence the pale-faced visitors to their quaint old town, until, by-and-by, we started on our return to Puebla by tramway, stopping now and then to gather some tempting wild flowers, or to purchase a bit of native pottery, which was so like old Egyptian patterns that it would not have looked out of place in Cairo or Alexandria.

Occasionally, in this section and eastward, towards Vera Cruz, as we stop at a railway station, a squad of rural police, sometimes mounted, sometimes on foot, draw up in line and salute the train. They are usually clad in buff leather uniforms, with a red sash about their waists, but sometimes are dressed in homespun, light gray woolen cloth, covered with many b.u.t.tons. They remind one of the Canadian mounted police, who guard the frontier; a body of men designed to keep the Indians in awe, and to perform semi-military and police duty. It is a fact that most of these men were formerly banditti, who find that occupation under the government pays them much better, and that it is also safer, since the present energetic officials are in the habit of shooting highwaymen at sight, without regard to judge or jury.

CHAPTER XV.

Down into the Hot Lands.--Wonderful Mountain Scenery.--Parasitic Vines.

--Luscious Fruits.--Orchids.--Orizaba.--State of Vera Cruz.--The Kodak.--Churches.--A Native Artist.--Schools.--Climate.--Crystal Peak of Orizaba.--Grand Waterfall.--The American Flag.--Disappointed Climbers.--A Night Surprise.--The French Invasion.--The Plaza.-- Indian Characteristics.--Early Morning Sights.--Maximilian in Council.--Difficult Engineering.--Wild Flowers.--A Cascade.--Cordova.

--The Banana.--Coffee Plantations.--Fertile Soil.--Market Scenes.

After returning to Puebla from Tlaxcala, we take the cars which will convey us eastward from the elevated table-land towards the tropical region of the coast. The steep descent begins just below Boca del Monte (Mouth of the Mountain), where the height above the Gulf of Mexico is about eight thousand feet, and the distance from Vera Cruz a trifle over one hundred miles. Here also is the dividing line between the states of Puebla and Vera Cruz. The winding, twisting road built along the rugged mountain-side is a marvelous triumph of the science of engineering, presenting obstacles which were at first deemed almost impossible to be overcome, now crossing deep gulches by spider-web trestles, and now diving into and out of long, dark tunnels, all the while descending a grade so steep as to be absolutely startling. The author remembers nothing more remarkable of the same character, unless it may be portions of the zigzag railway of the Blue Mountains in Australia, and some grades among the foothills of the Himalayan range in India. This road leading from Vera Cruz to the national capital, a distance of two hundred and sixty miles, ascends seven thousand six hundred feet. The scenery all the while is so grand and beautiful as to cause the most timid traveler to forget his nervousness. We were reminded by an officer of the road of the fact, remarkable if it is true, that no fatal accident had ever occurred upon the line. The geological formation of this region is on a most gigantic scale, the rocks of basalt and granite rising in fantastic shapes, forming ravines and pinnacles unparalleled for grandeur. Presently we come in full view of the beautiful valley of La Joya (The Gem), revealing its lovely gardens, beautifully wooded slopes, and yellow fields of ripening grain. By-and-by the lovely vale and pretty village of Maltrata is seen, with its saffron-colored domes and towers, its red-tiled, moss-enameled roofs, its flower-bordered lanes, and its squares of cultivated fields. These greet the eye far, far down the dizzy depths, two thousand feet, on our right, while on the left the mountains rise abruptly hundreds of feet towards the sky. The mingled rock and soil is here screened by lovely ferns and a perfect exposition of morning glories, fabulous in size and dazzling in colors.

No artificial display could equal this handiwork of nature, this exhibition of "April's loveliest coronets." Now and again large trees are seen on the line of the road withering in the cruel coils of a parasitic vine, which winds itself about the trunk like a two-inch hawser, and slowly strangles the stout, columnar tree. Finally the original trunk will die and fall to the ground, leaving the once small vine to grow and fatten upon its decay until it shall rival in size the trunk it has displaced. This is a sight common in tropical regions, and often observed in the forests of New Zealand, where the author has seen trees two and three feet in diameter yielding their lives to the fatal embrace of these parasites.

We descend rapidly; down, down, rushes the train, impelled by its own impetus, approaching the town first on one side, then on the other, until we stop at a huge elevated tank, rivaling the famous tun of Heidelberg in size, to water the thirsty engine. Here, and at most of the stations along the route, boys and girls offer the travelers tropical fruits in great variety at merely nominal prices, including large, yellow pineapples, zapotas, mameys, pomegranates, citrons, limes, oranges, and the like. Large, ripe oranges are sold two for a penny. One timid, half-clad, pretty young girl of native blood held up to us diffidently a bunch of white, fragrant orange blossoms which were eagerly secured and enjoyed, the child could not know how much. Other Indians brought roses and various orchids, splendidly developed, which they sold for a _real_ (twelve cents) each, with the roots bound up in broad green leaves. Doyle or Galvin would charge ten dollars apiece for such in Boston. Some of them had marvellous scarlet centres, eccentric in shape but very beautiful. As to color, there were blue, green, scarlet, yellow, and purple specimens among them.

Still winding in and out among the mountains, our ears frequently greeted by the music of tumbling waters, we finally arrive at Orizaba, in the State of Vera Cruz. The capital of this state was formerly Jalapa, but it is now Orizaba, which is named after the grand old mountain whose base is about twenty-five miles away. The State of Vera Cruz contains something over half a million of inhabitants. Few places in Mexico have a more fascinating site, or are surrounded by more lovely scenery. We are here eighty miles from Vera Cruz, and one hundred and eighty from the city of Mexico. Orizaba, having a little over twenty thousand inhabitants, is in many respects the quaintest, as it is one of the oldest, cities in the country. Most of the dwellings are but one story in height, built with broad, overhanging eaves, and are composed of rubble-stone, mortar, sun-dried brick, and a variety of other material; but not including wood. The low, iron-grated windows, so universal in Spanish towns, are not wanting here, through the bars of which, dark-eyed senoritas and laughing children watch us as we pa.s.s, often exhibiting pleasant family groups which were photographed as swiftly and as surely on the brain as a No. 2 Kodak instrument would depict them. Some of our party, by the way, were very expert with their Kodaks, and brought away with them ill.u.s.trated records of their extended journey which, for interest, would put these pen-and-ink sketches to utter shame.

The pitched roofs of the low houses of Orizaba are covered with big red tiles, which afford a sort of ventilation, as well as serving to throw off the heat of the burning sun, while the dry earth seems to absorb it, radiating a glimmer of heated air, like the sand dunes of Suez. It is singular that everything should be so oriental in appearance, while it would be puzzling to say exactly wherein lies the resemblance.

That there are numerous churches here goes without saying, and we may add that two or three of them are quite imposing, while all are suggestive, with a few crippled beggars standing like sentries at their doors. An Indian artist, Gabriel Barranco, has contributed oil-paintings of considerable merit to nearly all the churches in his native town. He is still alive, or was so a couple of months since, and is a most interesting conversationalist, though he is blind and decrepit. This locality seems particularly liable to earthquakes in a mild form. The largest church here has had its steeple overthrown three times, and the towers on several others have been made to lean by the same agency, so that they are considerably out of plumb. No earthquake, however, is likely to make much headway against the low dwellings, which cling to the ground like one's shoe to his foot. It is pleasant to mention that several good schools have been established at Orizaba, supported by the local government. These, we are told on good authority, are in a flourishing condition in spite of all opposition from the church party.

There are four schools for boys and three exclusively for girls.

Bigotry may make a bold show, but it cannot prosper where a system of free schools prevails.

A river runs through the city, lending a little life to the sleepy old place, and affording ample water power for six or eight mills which manufacture sugar, cotton, and flour. The situation is about midway between Vera Cruz and Puebla, on one of the two princ.i.p.al routes from the former port to the city of Mexico. The surrounding valley is quite fertile, and is mostly devoted to the raising of coffee, sugar, and tobacco. The climate is said to be very fine all the year round, the average temperature being 74 Fahr. in summer and rarely falling below 60 at any season, though it seemed to us, who had just come from the higher table-land, to be about 90. The scenery is that of Switzerland, the temperature that of southern Italy. It affords an agreeable medium between the heat of the lower country towards the Gulf and the almost too rarefied atmosphere of the high table-lands of Mexico. "In the course of a few hours," says Prescott, "the traveler may experience every gradation of climate, embracing torrid heat and glacial cold, and pa.s.s through different zones of vegetation, including wheat and the sugar-cane, the ash and the palm, apples, olives, and guavas."

In this vicinity one sees the orange, lemon, banana, and almond growing at their best, while the coffee, sugar, and tobacco plantations rival those of Cuba, both in extent and in the character of their products.

While Spanish rulers were still masters here, and when all manner of arbitrary restrictions were put upon trade, the cultivation of tobacco was confined by law to the districts about Cordova and Orizaba. There is no such handicapping of rural industry now enforced, and sugar and tobacco, which are always sure of a ready market where transportation is to be had, are engaging more and more of the attention of planters. It was found that the best of sugar-cane land, that is, best suited for a sugar plantation, could be had here for from thirty to forty dollars per acre; superior for the purpose to that which is held at one thousand dollars per acre in Louisiana. Though cotton is grown in about half the states of Mexico, the states of Vera Cruz and Durango are the most prolific in this crop. The plant thrives on the table-land up to an elevation of about five thousand feet above the level of the Gulf, and according to Mexican statistics the average product is about two thousand pounds to the acre, which is double the average quant.i.ty produced in the cotton-growing States of this Union. The modes of cultivation are very crude and imperfect, especially at any distance from the large and populous centres, but the amazing fertility of the soil insures good and remunerative returns to the farmer or planter even under these unfavorable circ.u.mstances. Water is the great, we may say the only, fertilizer--none other is ever used, and irrigating facilities are excellent. The city is elevated more than four thousand feet above Vera Cruz, but is also as much below the alt.i.tude of the national capital. As to the climate, one is prepared to agree with its inhabitants, who declare it to be "perfection." The city is overshadowed, as it were, by the crystal peak of Orizaba, though it is some miles away, rising to nearly eighteen thousand feet above the sea.

It is probably the second loftiest mountain in North America south of the Territory of Alaska, and exceeds the highest point in Europe.

Violent eruptions took place from its crater in 1545 and 1546.

About two miles east of Orizaba, near the hamlet of Jalapilla, is a fine waterfall, known as the Cascade Rincon Grande; this body of water makes a daring plunge of fifty feet over precipitous rocks, amid a glorious growth of tropical vegetation. From here parties are made up to ascend Orizaba (Mountain of the Star). It has stopped business as a volcano since the last date named, and is the highest mountain in Mexico with the exception of Popocatepetl. Until about forty years ago, the summit was considered to be inaccessible to human feet, but a party of energetic Americans planted our national flag on the summit at that time, the tattered remains of which were found to be still there in 1851, by Alexander Doignon, an adventurous Frenchman. We were told by a resident of the city of the experience of an English party, who came up from Vera Cruz not long since on their way to the city of Mexico, and who made a stop at Orizaba, intending to ascend the famous mountain.

There is said to be no very great difficulty to overcome in climbing to the top if one has experience in such work and is at the same time strong and well, but the party referred to had just arrived from the level of the sea. The summit of Orizaba is, as we have stated, considerably over seventeen thousand feet above the port of Vera Cruz.

This party of confident climbers had to give it up after reaching what is known as the timber line, simply for want of the necessary breathing power. One's lungs must become in a degree accustomed to the rarefied atmosphere of the table-land before attempting to ascend to such a height. Guides, blankets, and two days' provisions should be taken by any party designing to climb Orizaba. One must seek a favorable point in the limits of the town to see this elevation to advantage, because of the close intervening hills. On the west side of the town is an elevation known as El Borrego, where five thousand Mexicans were completely routed by a single company of Zouaves during the ill-conceived French invasion. To be sure, this was a night surprise, wherein the French appeared among the sleeping Mexicans and cut them down as fast as they opened their eyes, until the whole camp took to flight. The importance of military discipline was never more clearly demonstrated. Probably the average of the Mexican soldiers were of nearly as good material as the French, but the former were little better than a mob, each man for himself. Even to-day, it is observed, in the few military exhibitions given in public, that the rank and file are lackadaisical, indifferent, undrilled, evincing a want of nearly every element of discipline, while their officers lounge along the avenues,--they do not _march_,--presenting an appearance as far from true military bearing as the greatest clown in the ranks.

It will be remembered that Orizaba was for a considerable time the headquarters of General Bazaine's army, and it was here that the French general finally, in 1866, bade good-by to the ill-fated Maximilian, whose cause he deserted by order of his royal master, Napoleon the Little. Stories are told by the residents of the outrages committed by the French soldiers, who were permitted unlimited license by their commander. "The whole army," said an aged citizen to us, "was a body of cutthroats. They stole everything they could carry away, besides which, cruel and aimless murder was their daily diversion."

The small plaza is a delightful resort, a wilderness of green with an ornamental fountain in the middle, about which are stone seats among flowering shrubs, orange and other fruit trees. Indeed, the entire surroundings of Orizaba are gardenlike in fertility and bloom. The vegetation, owing to the humidity of the atmosphere rising from the Gulf, is always intensely green. Huge b.u.t.terflies flitted in clouds about the plaza, many-colored, sunshine-loving creatures, with widespread, yellow wings shot with purple bars, and bearing strongly contrasting dots of inky-black and lily-white. A tall cl.u.s.ter of the glorious tulipan, quite by itself, looked like a tree on fire, so glowing was its scarlet bloom.

The streets of the town are in tolerably good condition, paved with lava once vomited from the neighboring mountain, now so quiet. The gutters are in the middle of the thoroughfares, and the sidewalks are only a few inches in width. Carts or wheeled vehicles of any sort are very little used, freight being carried almost wholly on the backs of burros and Indians. All vegetables, charcoal, wood, and country produce come into town on the backs of st.u.r.dy, copper-colored natives, men and women, and it is really astonishing to see what loads they will carry for long distances over the mountain roads at the rate of five or six miles an hour. Humboldt, in his description of these Indians, tells us that they enjoy one great physical advantage which is undoubtedly owing to the simplicity in which their ancestors lived for thousands of years. He referred to the fact that they are subject to hardly any deformity. A hunchbacked Indian is not to be seen, and it is very rare to meet a maimed or a lame one. Their hair does not grow gray like that of white men, nor do their faces grow wrinkled as they become old. The absence of deformity is also supposed to be owing to their general mode of life, simple food, living in the open air, and temperate habits. Their ivory-white teeth contrast strongly with their black hair and bronzed features. The country people rarely indulge in pulque, never unless when they come to town, and they have too little money to throw it away in the purchase of much of even that cheap liquor. It is said that its injurious effects upon the system are very trifling compared to those of American whiskey. It seems to be little more than a powerful narcotic to those who drink of it freely. The strong distilled liquor made from the roots of the maguey plant is quite another article, and is more like Scotch whiskey in effect.

If you rise from your couch early enough in the morning, you will see many Indian men and women coming in to market from the country, all bending under the weight of provisions, pottery, or some other home product. You will see the women (industrious creatures) knitting or netting as they jog along. And near them long trains of burros laden with grain, alfalfa, straw, or wood. You will see some dark-eyed, coquettish girls with inviting bouquets for sale; also here and there a pretty senora or senorita, with a dark lace veil thrown over her jet black hair, hastening to early ma.s.s; but, above all, behold the glorious sun encircling the frosty brow of Orizaba with a halo of gold and silver which sparkles like diamonds in the clear, crisp morning atmosphere. How full of vivid pictures is the memory of these early morning hours in Mexico!

In a small village known as Jalapilla, situated about a couple of miles south of the city, is the spot where Maximilian resided for a brief period after the French army had deserted him. Here he held the famous council as to whether he should abdicate the Mexican throne or not. He was more than half inclined to do it. It was really the only common-sense course which was left open to him. Had he done so, he might have been living to-day. Vera Cruz was close at hand and easily reached, a French steamship lay off San Juan d'Ulloa ready to take him across the sea, but there were three causes working against his abdication. First, his own pride; second, the pressure of the church party; and, last but not least, the confident counsels of Carlotta. These influences prevailed, and decided him to remain. He thus challenged the inevitable fate which ended his career at Queretaro. That two generals who were on his personal staff believed in his star and were wedded to his service under all circ.u.mstances, was fully proven in the fact that they made no attempt to escape, but calmly and devotedly died by his side when the crisis finally came.

The railroad station at Orizaba adjoined a neat inclosure, which is a small floral paradise, exhibiting very clearly a woman's taste in the arrangement and cultivation. Roses white and red, lilies tall and pearl-colored, the scarlet hibiscus, tube-roses, orange-trees, coffee-trees full of berries, all are to be seen here, with a few bananas waving their long, broad green leaves, like pennons, over the undergrowth, and showing their one pendulous blossom as large as a pineapple.

The descent from the high elevation of Orizaba is continued, the route leading through groves of bananas, maize and sugar plantations, and creeping down the steep sides of a terrific gorge over a thousand feet deep, where the purple shadows look like shrouded phantoms hastening out of sight. This abyss is crossed by means of extraordinary engineering skill, much of the roadway along the nearly perpendicular side of the ravine having been hewn out of the solid rock. To accomplish this it was necessary at first to suspend workmen by ropes over the brow of the cliffs, lowering them down until they were opposite the point to be operated upon, and, after making fast the ropes which held them, leave them there to work for hours with hammer and chisel. There was one piece of roadbed, not more than ten rods in length, where the track seemed to run on a narrow shelf barely wide enough for the cars to pa.s.s, which is said to have required seven years to render available. We can well conceive it to have been so, for the whole road from Vera Cruz to Mexico was about five times seven years in building. The view is at times such as to incline the experienced traveler to hold his breath, if not to close his eyes, in a tremor of excitement. In the steepest part of the route the descent is at the rate of one hundred thirty-three and one third feet to the mile! Were a wheel to break, an iron nut to give way, or the trusted brakes fail to operate, what a frightful catastrophe would instantly follow!

Between Orizaba and Cordova, a few rods off the line of the railway to the left as we go from the former to the latter place, is a dark, cavernous pa.s.sage cut through the hillside a hundred feet or more, leading to the view of a waterfall of great beauty and of considerable size. It is closely framed on all sides by dark green foliage, tall and graceful trees partially overhanging it. Dainty orchids and beautiful ferns hang upon the damp rocks and the brown tree-trunks. Here the cars stop for a brief period, to enable us to delight our eyes and ears by the sight and sound of the riotous waters. A waterfall or cascade in this climate is enhanced in importance for many reasons; the very sight of rushing, foaming water has a cooling and refreshing effect when the thermometer is at 90 Fahr. The rank, tropical verdure, the depth of the sombre gorge, the tumultuous, sparkling waters, the cool, welcome shade, and the ceaseless anthem of the falls make the charming spot a scene long to be remembered. One would have liked to linger there for hours. Finally, after having pa.s.sed over a distance of nearly twenty miles, we cross the bridge of Metlac, built over a river of the same name, and arrive in sight of Cordova, whose domes and towers are just far enough away to clothe them in a soft, inviting, amber hue.

Cordova is situated in the fertile valley of the Rio Seco, and in the midst of a sugar and coffee producing district about seventy miles west of Vera Cruz, nearly upon the direct line between the Gulf and the city of Mexico. To be exact, it is sixty-six miles from the former city and two hundred from the latter. Speaking of coffee, the region wherein it thrives and is remuneratively productive is very large in Mexico. It grows down to the coast and far up into the table-lands, but it does best in an alt.i.tude of from one to three thousand feet above the level of the sea. In this region, as we have already indicated, a berry is produced which we consider equal to the product of any land. Under proper conditions the republic could furnish the whole of this country with the raw material wherewith to produce the favorite beverage, enormous as is the consumption. The bananas of this region were found to be especially luscious and appetizing. In growth this is a beautiful, thrifty, and productive annual, forming a large portion of the food supply of the humbler cla.s.ses, and a favorite dessert at the tables of the rich. From the centre of its large, broad, palm-like leaves, which gather at the top of the thick stalk, twelve or fifteen inches in diameter, when it has reached a height of about ten feet, there springs forth a large purple bud, eight or nine inches long, shaped like a huge acorn, but a little more pointed. This cone hangs suspended from a strong stem upon which a leaf unfolds, displaying a cl.u.s.ter of young fruit. As soon as these have become fairly set, this sheltering leaf drops off and another unfolds, exposing its little brood of young fruit, and the process goes on until eight or ten rings of small bananas are started, forming bunches, when ready to pick, of from seventy-five to a hundred of the finger-like product. After bearing, the stalk and top die, but it sprouts up again from the roots, once more to go through the liberal process of producing a crop of luscious fruit. It is said that the banana is more productive and requires less care or cultivation than any other food-producing growth in the tropics or elsewhere.

Neither Florida nor Cuba can furnish finer oranges than are grown in vast quant.i.ties in the region round about Cordova. Peddlers offer them by the basketful to pa.s.sing travelers, ripe and delicious, two for a penny; also, mangoes, bananas, pineapples, and other tropical fruits, at equally low prices. Great quant.i.ties are shipped to other cities by rail, and pa.s.sengers carry away hundreds in baskets daily. Coffee and sugar are, however, the staple products. Among the neighboring planters, as we were told, are a few enterprising Americans, who have lately introduced more modern facilities than have been in use heretofore for planting, cultivating, packing, and the like. A coffee plantation is one of the most pleasing tropical sights the eye can rest upon, where twenty-five or thirty acres of level soil are planted thickly with the deep green shrub, divided into straight lines, which obtains the needed shade from graceful palms, interspersed with bananas, orange and mango trees. Coffee will not thrive without partial protection from the ardor of the sun in the low lat.i.tudes, and therefore a certain number of shade and fruit trees are introduced among the low-growing plants. The shrub is kept trimmed down to a certain height, thus throwing all the vigor of the roots into the formation of berries upon the branches which are not disturbed. So prolific is the low-growing tree thus treated that the small branches bend nearly to the ground under the weight of the ripening berries. Conceive of such an arrangement when the whole is in flower, the milk-white blossoms of the coffee so abundant as to seem as though a cloud of snow had fallen there and left the rest of the vegetation in full verdure, while the air is as heavy with perfume as in an orange grove.

The soil between here and Orizaba is considered to be of the richest and most fertile in all Mexico. Plantations devoted to the raising of cinchona have proved quite profitable. Four times each year may the sower reap his harvest amid perpetual summer. We saw some fine groves of the plantain, the trees twelve feet high and the leaves six feet long by two in width. This, together with the banana, forms the chief feature as regards the low-growing foliage in all the tropical regions about the Gulf of Mexico, gracefully fanning the undergrowth with broad-spread leaves, and affording the needed shade. The stem of the plantain gradually decays, like the banana, when the fruit has ripened, after which the young shoots spring up from the roots once more to produce the abundant and nourishing food. It does not seem to have any special season, but is constantly in bloom and bearing. The acc.u.mulation of sugar and starch in the fruit makes it a most valuable source of food in the tropics, while the product from a small area of land is enormous when compared with that of cultivated grains and fruits generally.

The cacao, the source from whence our chocolate comes, was originally found in Mexico, where its seeds once formed the money, or circulating medium, of the aboriginal tribes. It grows here in abundance and to great perfection.

Cordova has between six and eight thousand inhabitants. It is nearly three thousand feet above sea level, and is rarely troubled with yellow fever; but ague is common. The streets are very regular and are all paved. On one side of the plaza is the cathedral, a grand edifice with a gaudily-finished interior. The central plaza, though small, is exquisitely kept, full of flowers, and vivid with the large scarlet tulipan. The ground is well-filled with fruit-trees and palms, interspersed with smooth paths, and furnished with ornamental iron seats. On the outside of the plaza is the market, where rows of country-women sit on their haunches in true Asiatic fashion, beside their articles for sale. This cla.s.s of women here affect high colors in their rude costumes, wearing a profusion of cheap coral and silver ornaments, besides a peculiar headdress, more Neapolitan than Mexican.

It is quite the thing in speaking of Cordova to remember that it was here, in 1821, that the treaty was signed between Iturbide and O'Donoju, which officially recognized the independence of Mexico. The vicinity of the town abounds in antique remains. An organized party was engaged in exhuming old pottery and other domestic utensils at the time of our visit.

CHAPTER XVI.

The City of Vera Cruz.--Defective Harbor.--The Dreaded and also Welcome Norther.--San Juan d'Ulloa.--Landing of Cortez.--His Expedition Piratical.--View of the City from the Sea.--Cortez's Destruction of his Ships.--Anecdote of Charles V.--A Sickly Capital.--Street Scenes.

--Trade.--The Mantilla.--Plaza de la Const.i.tucion.--Typical Characters.--Brilliant Fireflies.--Well-To-Do Beggars.--Princ.i.p.al Edifices.--The Campo Santo.--City Dwelling-Houses.--The Dark-Plumed Buzzards.--A City Fountain.--A Varied History.--Medillin.--State of Vera Cruz.

Vera Cruz, which is at present the princ.i.p.al seaport of the republic, and which has heretofore been considered as the gateway of Mexico, is without a harbor worthy of the name, being situated on an open roadstead and affording no safe anchorage among its shoals, coral reefs, and surf.

It is not safe, in fact, for vessels to moor within half a mile of the sh.o.r.e. A cl.u.s.ter of dangerous, merciless-looking reefs, together with the island of San Juan d'Ulloa, form a slight protection from the open Gulf. A sea-wall shelters the street facing upon the water, and there is a serviceable mole where boats land from the shipping when a "norther"

is not blowing; but when that prevails no one attempts to land from vessels in the roadstead. No wonder that underwriters charge double to insure vessels bound to so inhospitable a sh.o.r.e. Even in ordinary weather a surf-drenching has sometimes to be endured in landing at the mole. This is a serious objection to the port where every ton of freight must be transferred between ship and sh.o.r.e by lighters. Nevertheless, this difficulty might be easily overcome by the construction of a substantial breakwater, such as has lately been successfully built at Colombo, Ceylon, or that which has robbed the roadstead of Madras, India, of its former terrors. To be sure, such a plan requires enterprise and the liberal expenditure of money. Unless the citizens open their purses and pay for the needed improvement, which would promptly turn their exposed sh.o.r.e into a safe harbor, they will have to submit to seeing the present commerce of the port diverted to Tampico, where suitable engineering is about to secure an excellent harbor.

Improvements are of slow growth in this country. The railway between this city and the national capital was over thirty years in building, and cost fully forty million dollars.