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Cornell University Library 
 F 215 W27 
 
 On horseback. A tour in Virginia. North 
 
 olin 
 
 3 1924 028 782 717 
 
Jflr. SSaarner'o SISErittnjris. 
 
 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. Riverside AMine Series. 
 
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 Boston and New York. 
 
ON HORSEBACK 
 
 A TOUR IN VIRGINIA, NORTH CARO- 
 LINA, AND TENNESSEE 
 
 WITH NOTES OF TRAVEL IN MEXICO 
 AND CALIFORNIA 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER 
 
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 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 atfe lftit>erSi&e $re;W, CambribBe 
 
K°IVt7l 
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 B¥ CHAKLES DUDLEY WARNER. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Company. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ON HORSEBACK 1 
 
 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 I. From El Paso to the City of Mexico . . 155 
 
 II. CUAUTLA .... . . .188 
 
 III. COATEPEC 215 
 
 IV. MoRELIA AND PATZCUARO 244 
 
 V. Tczintczuktczan — Uruapan . . . 273 
 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES 305 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 " The way to mount a horse " — said the 
 Professor. 
 
 " If you have no ladder " — put in the Friend 
 of Humanity. 
 
 The Professor had ridden through the war 
 for the Union on the right side, enjoying a 
 much better view of it than if he had walked, 
 and knew as much about a horse as a person 
 ought to know for the sake of his character. 
 The man who can recite the tales of the Can- 
 terbury Pilgrims, on horseback, giving the con- 
 temporary pronunciation, never missing an ac- 
 cent by reason of the trot, and at the same 
 time witch North Carolina and a strip of East 
 Tennessee with his noble horsemanship, is a 
 kind of Literary Centaur of whose double in- 
 struction any Friend of Humanity may be glad 
 to avail himself. 
 
 " The way to mount a horse is to grasp the 
 
4 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 mane with the left hand holding the bridle- 
 rein, put your left foot in the stirrup, with the 
 right band on the back of the saddle, and " — 
 
 Just then the horse stepped quickly around 
 on his hind feet, and looked the Professor in 
 the face. The Superintendents of Affairs, who 
 occupy the flagging in front of the hotel, seated 
 in cane-bottomed chairs tilted back, smiled. 
 These useful persons appear to have a life-lease 
 of this portion of the city pavement, and pretty 
 effectually block it up nearly all day and even- 
 ing. When a lady wishes to make her way 
 through the blockade, it is the habit of these 
 observers of life to rise and make room, touch- 
 ing their hats, while she picks her way through, 
 and goes down the street with a pretty con- 
 sciousness of the flutter she has caused. The 
 war has not changed the Southern habit of 
 sitting out-of-doors, but has added a new ele- 
 ment of street picturesqueness in groups of col- 
 ored people lounging about the corners. There 
 appears to be more leisure than ever. 
 
 The scene of this little lesson in horseman- 
 ship was the old town of Abingdon, in South- 
 west Virginia, on the Virginia and East Ten- 
 nessee railway ; a town of ancient respectability, 
 which gave birth to the Johnstons and Floyds 
 and other notable people, a town that still 
 preserves the flavor of excellent tobacco and 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 5 
 
 something of the easy-going habits of the days 
 of slaver}', and is a sort of educational centre, 
 where the young ladies of the region add the 
 final graces of intellectual life in moral philoso- 
 phy and the use of the globes to their natural 
 gifts. The mansion of the late and left Floyd 
 is now a seminary, and not far from it is the 
 Stonewall Jackson Institute, in the midst of a 
 grove of splendid oaks, whose stately boles and 
 wide-spreading branches give a dignity to edu- 
 cational life. The distinction of the region is 
 its superb oak-trees. As it was vacation in 
 these institutions of learning, the travelers did 
 not see any of the vines that traditionally cling 
 to the oak. 
 
 The Professor and the Friend of Humanity 
 were about starting on a journey, across coun- 
 try southward, through regions about which 
 the people of Abingdon could give little useful 
 information. If the travelers had known the 
 capacities and resources of the country, they 
 would not have started without a supply train, 
 or the establishment of bases of provisions in 
 advance. But, as the Professor remarked, 
 knowledge is something that one acquires when 
 he lias no use for it. The horses were saddled ; 
 the riders were equipped with flannel shirts 
 and leather leggins ; the saddle-bags were 
 stuffed with clean linen, and novels, and son- 
 
6 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 nets of Shakespeare, and other baggage, — it 
 would have been well if they had been stuffed 
 with hard-tack, for in real life meat is more 
 than raiment. 
 
 The hotel, in front of which there is culti- 
 vated so much of what the Germans call sitz- 
 fleisoh, is a fair type of the majority of South- 
 ern hotels, and differs from the same class in 
 the North in being left a little more to run 
 itself. The only information we obtained 
 about it was from its porter at the station, who 
 replied to the question, " Is it the best ? " 
 " We warrant you perfect satisfaction in every 
 respect." This seems to be only a formula of 
 expression, for we found that the statement 
 was highly colored. It was left to our imagina- 
 tion to conjecture how the big chambers of the 
 old house, with their gaping fireplaces, might 
 have looked when furnished and rilled with gay 
 company, and we got what satisfaction we 
 could out of a bygone bustle and mint-julep 
 hilarity. In our struggles with the porter to 
 obtain the little items of soap, water, and tow- 
 els, we were convinced that we had arrived too 
 late, and that for perfect satisfaction we should 
 have been here before the war. It was not al- 
 ways as now. In colonial days the accommoda- 
 tions and prices at inns were regulated by law. 
 In the old records in the court-house we read 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 7 
 
 that if we had been here in 1777 we could have 
 had a gallon of good rum for sixteen shillings ; 
 a quart bowl of rum toddy made with loaf 
 sugar for two shillings, or with brown sugar 
 for one shilling and sixpence. In 1779 prices 
 had risen. Good rum sold for four pounds a 
 gallon. It was ordered that a warm dinner 
 should cost twelve shillings, a cold dinner nine 
 shillings, and a good breakfast twelve shillings. 
 But the item that pleased us most, and made 
 us regret our late advent, was that for two 
 shillings we could have had a " good lodging, 
 with clean sheets." The colonists were fastidi- 
 ous people. 
 
 Abingdon, prettily situated on rolling hills 
 and a couple of thousand feet above the sea, 
 with views of mountain peaks to the south, is a 
 cheerful and not too exciting place for a brief 
 sojourn, and hospitable and helpful to the 
 stranger. We had dined — so much, at least, 
 the public would expect of us — with a descen- 
 dant of Pocahontas ; we had assisted on Sun- 
 day morning at the dedication of a new brick 
 Methodist church, the finest edifice in the re- 
 gion, a dedication that took a long time, since 
 the bishop would not proceed with it until 
 money enough was raised in open meeting to 
 pay the balance due on it, — a religious act, 
 though it did give a business aspect to the 
 
8 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 place at the time ; and we had been the light 
 spots in the evening service at the most aristo- 
 cratic church of color. The irresponsibility of 
 this amiable race was exhibited in the tardi- 
 ness with which they assembled : at the ap- 
 pointed time nobody was there except the sex- 
 ton ; it was three quarters of an hour before 
 the congregation began to saunter in, and the 
 sermon was neai'ly over before the pews were 
 at all filled. Perhaps the sermon was not new, 
 but it was fervid, - and at times the able 
 preacher roared so that articulate sounds were 
 lost in the general effect. It was precisely 
 these passages of cataracts of sound and hard 
 breathing which excited the liveliest responses, 
 — " Yes, Lord," and " Glory to God." Most 
 of these responses came from the " Amen cor- 
 ner." The sermon contained the usual vivid 
 description of the last judgment-ah, and I fan- 
 cied that the congregation did not get the 
 ordinary satisfaction out of it. Fashion had 
 entered the fold, and the singing was mostly 
 executed by a choir in the dusky gallery, who 
 thinly and harshly warbled the emotional 
 hymns. It occupied the minister a long time 
 to give out the notices of the week, and there 
 was not an evening or afternoon that had not 
 its meetings, its literary or social gathering, 
 its picnic or fair for the benefit of the church, 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 9 
 
 its Dorcas society, or some occasion of religious 
 sociability. I The raising of funds appeared to 
 be the burden on the preacher's mind. ) Two 
 collections were taken up. At the first, the 
 boxes appeared to get no supply except from 
 the two white trash present. But the second 
 was more successful. After the sermon was 
 over, an elder took his place at a table within 
 the rails, and the real business of the evening 
 began. Somebody in the Amen corner struck 
 up a tune that had no end, but a mighty power 
 of setting the congregation in motion. The 
 leader had a voice like the pleasant droning of 
 a bag-pipe, and the faculty of emitting a con- 
 tinuous note like that instrument, without stop- 
 ping to breathe. It went on and on like a Bach 
 fugue, winding and whining its way, turning 
 the corners of the lines of the catch without 
 a break. The effect was soon visible in the 
 emotional crowd : feet began to move in a reg- 
 ular cadence and voices to join in, with spurts 
 of ejaculation ; and soon, with an air of mar- 
 tyrdom, the members began to leave their seats 
 and pass before the table and deposit their con- 
 tributions. It was a cent contribution, and we 
 found it very difficult, under the contagious 
 influence of the hum from the Amen corner, 
 not to rise and go forward and deposit a cent. 
 If anything could extract the pennies from a 
 
10 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 reluctant worldling it would be the buzzing of 
 this tune. It went on and on, until the house 
 appeared to be drained dry of its cash ; and we 
 inferred by the stopping of the melody that the 
 preacher's salary was secure for the time being. 
 On inquiring, we ascertained that the pecuni- 
 ary flood that evening had risen to the height 
 of a dollar and sixty cents. 
 
 All was ready for the start. It should have 
 been early in the morning, but it was not ; for 
 Virginia is not only one of the blessed regions 
 where one can get a late breakfast, but where 
 it is almost impossible to get an early one. At 
 ten A. M., the two horsemen rode away out of 
 sight of the Abingdon spectators, down the 
 eastern turnpike. The day was warm, but 
 the air was full of vitality and the spirit of ad- 
 venture. It was the 22d of July. The horses 
 were not ambitious, but went on at an easy 
 fox-trot that permits observation and encour- 
 ages conversation. It had been stipulated that 
 the horses should be good walkers, the one 
 essential thing in a horseback journey. Few 
 horses, even in a country where riding is gen- 
 eral, are trained to walk fast. We hear much 
 of horses that can walk five miles an hour, but 
 they are as rave as white elephants. Our 
 horses were only fair walkers. We realized 
 how necessary this accomplishment is, for be- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 11 
 
 tween the Tennessee line and Asheville, North 
 Carolina, there is scarcely a mile of trotting- 
 ground. 
 
 We soon turned southward and descended 
 into the Holston River Valley. Beyond lay 
 the Tennessee hills and conspicuous White- 
 Top Mountain (5530 feet), which has a good 
 deal of local celebrity (standing where the 
 States of Virginia, Tennessee, and North Caro- 
 lina corner), and had been pointed out to us 
 at Abingdon. We had been urged, personally 
 and by letter, to ascend this mountain, without 
 fail. People recommend mountains to their 
 friends as they do patent medicines. As we 
 leisurely jogged along we discussed this, and 
 endeavored to arrive at some rule of conduct 
 for the journey. The Professor expressed at 
 once a feeling about mountain-climbing that 
 amounted to hostility, — he would go nowhere 
 that he could not ride. Climbing was the 
 most unsatisfactory use to which a mountain 
 could be put. As to White-Top, it was a small 
 mountain, and not worth ascending. The 
 Friend of Humanity, who believes in moun- 
 tain-climbing as a theory, and for other peo- 
 ple, and knows the value of being able to say, 
 without detection, that he has ascended any 
 high mountain about which he is questioned, — 
 since this question is the first one asked about 
 
12 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 an exploration in a new country, — saw that 
 he should have to use a good deal of diplomacy 
 to get the Professor over any considerable 
 elevation on the trip. And he had to confess 
 also that a view from a mountain is never so 
 satisfactory as a view of a mountain, from a 
 moderate height. The Professor, however, did 
 not argue the matter on any such reasonable 
 ground, but took his stand on his right as a 
 man not to ascend a mountain. With this ap- 
 peal to first principles, — a position that could 
 not be confuted on account of its vagueness 
 (although it might probably "be demonstrated 
 that in society man has no such right), — there 
 was no way of agreement except by a compro- 
 mise. It was accordingly agreed that no moun- 
 tain under six thousand feet is worth ascend- 
 ing ; that disposed of White -Top. It was 
 further agreed that any mountain that is over 
 six thousand feet high is too high to ascend on 
 foot. 
 
 With this amicable adjustment we forded 
 the Holston, crossing it twice within a few 
 miles. This upper branch of the Tennessee is 
 a noble stream, broad, with a rocky bed and a 
 swift current. Fording it is ticklish business 
 except at comparatively low water, and as 
 it is subject to sudden rises there must be 
 times when it seriously interrupts travel. This 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 13 
 
 whole region, full of swift streams, is without 
 a bridge, and, as a consequence, getting over 
 rivers and brooks and the dangers of ferries 
 occupy a prominent place in the thoughts of 
 the inhabitants. The life necessarily had the 
 "frontier" quality all through, for there can 
 be little solid advance in civilization in the 
 uncertainties of a bridgeless condition. An 
 open, pleasant valley, the Holston, but cultiva- 
 tion is more and more negligent and houses are 
 few and poorer as we advance. 
 
 We had left behind the hotels of " perfect 
 satisfaction," and expected to live on the coun- 
 try, trusting to the infrequent but remunerated 
 hospitality of the widely scattered inhabitants. 
 We were to dine at Ramsey's. Ramsey's had 
 been recommended to us as a royal place of 
 entertainment, the best in all that region ; and 
 as the sun grew hot in the sandy valley, and 
 the weariness of noon fell upon us, we magni- 
 fied Ramsey's in our imagination, — the nobil- 
 ity of its situation, its cuisine, its inviting rest- 
 fulness, — and half decided to pass the night 
 there in the true abandon of plantation life. 
 Long before we reached it, the Holston River 
 which we followed had become the Laurel, a 
 most lovely, rocky, winding stream, which we 
 forded continually, for the valley became too 
 narrow much of the way to accommodate a 
 
14 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 road and a river. Eagerly as we were looking 
 out for it, we passed the great Ramsey's with- 
 out knowing it, for it was the first of a little 
 settlement of two houses and a saw-mill and 
 barn. It was a neat log house of two lower 
 rooms and a summer kitchen, quite the best of 
 the class that we saw, and the pleasant mis- 
 tress of it made us welcome. Across the road 
 and close to the Laurel was the spring-house, 
 the invariable adjunct to every well-to-do 
 house in the region, and on the stony margin 
 of the stream was set up the big caldron for 
 the family washing ; and here, paddling in the 
 shallow stream, while dinner was preparing, we 
 established an intimacy with the children and 
 exchanged philosophical observations on life 
 with the old negress who was dabbling the 
 clothes. What impressed this woman was the 
 inequality in life. She jumped to the unwar- 
 ranted conclusion that the Professor and the 
 Friend were very rich, and spoke with asperity 
 of the difficulty she experienced in getting 
 shoes and tobacco. It was useless to point out 
 to her that her al fresco life was singularly 
 blessed and free from care, and the happy 
 lot of any one who could loiter all day by 
 this laughing stream, undisturbed by debt or 
 ambition. Everybody about the place was 
 barefooted, except the mistress, including the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 15 
 
 comely daughter of eighteen, who served our 
 dinner in the kitchen. The dinner was abun- 
 dant, and though it seemed to us incongruous 
 at the time, we were not twelve hours older 
 when we looked back upon it with longing. 
 On the table were hot biscuit, ham, pork, and 
 green beans, apple-sauce, blackberry preserves, 
 cucumbers, coffee, plenty of milk, honey, and 
 apple and blackberry pie. Here we had our 
 first experience, and I may say new sensation, 
 of "honey on pie." It has a cloying sound as 
 it is written, but the handmaiden recommended 
 it with enthusiasm, and we evidently fell in 
 her esteem, as persons from an uncultivated 
 society, when we declared our inexperience of 
 " honey on pie." " Where be you from ? " It 
 turned out to be very good, and we have tried 
 to introduce it in families since our return, 
 with indifferent success. There did not seem 
 to be in this family much curiosity about the 
 world at large, nor much stir of social life. 
 The gayety of madame appeared to consist in 
 an occasional visit to paw and maw and grand- 
 maw, up the river a few miles, where she was 
 raised. 
 
 Refreshed by the honey and fodder at Ram- 
 sey's, the pilgrims went gayly along the musi- 
 cal Laurel, in the slanting rays of the after- 
 noon sun, which played upon the rapids and 
 
16 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 illumined all the woody way. Inspired by the 
 misapprehension of the colored philosopher and 
 the dainties of the dinner, the Professor solilo- 
 quized : — 
 
 " So am I as the rich, whose blessed key 
 Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, 
 The which he will not every hour survey, 
 For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. 
 Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, 
 Since seldom coming, in the long year set, 
 Like stones of wealth they thinly placed are, 
 Or captain jewels in the carcanet." 
 
 Five miles beyond Ramsey's the Tennessee line 
 was crossed. The Laurel became more rocky, 
 swift, full of rapids, and the valley narrowed 
 down to the river-way, with standing room, 
 however, for stately trees along the banks. 
 The oaks, both black and white, were, as they 
 had been all day, gigantic in size and splendid 
 in foliage. There is a certain dignity in rid- 
 ing in such stately company, and the travelers 
 clattered along over the stony road under the 
 impression of possible high adventure in a new 
 world of such freshness. Nor was beauty want- 
 ing. The rhododendrons had, perhaps, a week 
 ago reached their climax, and now began to 
 strew the water and the ground with their 
 brilliant petals, dashing all the way with color ; 
 but they were still matchlessly beautiful. 
 Great banks of pink and white covered the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 17 
 
 steep hillsides ; the bending stems, ten to twen- 
 ty feet high, hung their rich clusters over the 
 river ; avenues of glory opened away in the 
 glade of the stream ; and at every turn of the 
 winding way vistas glowing with the hues of 
 romance wrenched exclamations of delight and 
 wonder from the Shakespearean sonneteer and 
 his humble Friend. In the deep recesses of 
 the forest suddenly flamed to the view, like the 
 splashes of splendor on the sombre canvas of 
 an old Venetian, these wonders of color, — the 
 glowing summer-heart of the woods. 
 
 It was difficult to say, meantime, whether 
 the road was laid out in the river, or the river 
 in the road. In the few miles to Egger's (this 
 was the destination of our great expectations 
 for the night) the stream was crossed twenty- 
 seven times, — or perhaps it would be more 
 proper to say that the road was crossed twenty- 
 seven times. Where the road did not run in 
 the river, its bed was washed out and as stony 
 as the bed of the stream. This is a general 
 and accurate description of all the roads in this 
 region, which wind along and in the streams, 
 through narrow valleys, shut in by low and 
 steep hills. The country is full of springs and 
 streams, and between Abingdon and Egger's 
 is only one (small) bridge. In a region with 
 scarcely any level land or intervale, farmers 
 
18 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 are at a disadvantage. All along the road we 
 saw nothing but mean shanties, generally of 
 logs, with now and then a decent one-story 
 frame, and the people looked miserably poor. 
 
 As we picked our way along up the Laurel, 
 obliged for the most part to ride single-file, or 
 as the Professor expressed it, — 
 
 " Let me confess that we two must be twain, 
 Although our undivided loves are one," — 
 
 we gathered information about Egger's from 
 the infrequent hovels on the road, which in- 
 flamed our imaginations. Egger was the thriv- 
 ing man of the region, and lived in style in a 
 big brick house. We began to feel a doubt 
 that Egger would take us in, and so much did 
 his brick magnificence impress us that we re- 
 gretted we had not brought apparel fit for the 
 society we were about to enter. 
 
 It was half past six, and we were tired and 
 hungry, when the domain of Egger towered in 
 sight, — a gaunt two-story structure of raw 
 brick, unfinished, standing in a narrow inter- 
 vale. We rode up to the gate, and asked a 
 man who sat in the front-door porch if this was 
 Egger's, and if we could be accommodated for 
 the night. The man, without moving, allowed 
 that it was Egger's, and that we could prob- 
 ably stay there. This person, however, exhib- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 19 
 
 ited so much indifference to our company, he 
 was such a hairy, unkempt man, and carried on 
 face, bands, and clothes so much more of the 
 soil of the region than a prudent proprietor 
 would divert from raising corn, that we set 
 him aside as a poor relation, and asked for Mr. 
 Egger. But the man, still without the least 
 hospitable stir, 'admitted that that was the 
 name he went by, and at length advised us to 
 " lite " and hitch our horses, and sit on the 
 porch with him and enjoy the cool of the even- 
 ing. The horses would be put up by and by, 
 and in fact things generally would come round 
 some time. This turned out to be the easy 
 way of the country. Mr. Egger was far from 
 being inhospitable, but was in no hurry, and 
 never had been in a hurry. He was not ex- 
 actly a gentleman of the old school. He was 
 better than that. He dated from the time 
 when there were no schools at all, and he lived 
 in that placid world which is without informa- 
 tion and ideas. Mr. Egger showed his superi- 
 ority by a total lack of curiosity about any 
 other world. 
 
 This brick house, magnificent by comparison 
 with other dwellings in this country, seemed 
 to us, on nearer acquaintance, only a thin, 
 crude shell of a house, half unfinished, with 
 bare rooms, the plastering already discolored. 
 
20 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 In point of furnishing it had not yet reached 
 the " God bless our Home " stage in crewel. 
 In the narrow meadow, a strip of vivid green 
 south of the house, ran a little stream, fed by 
 a copious spring, and over it was built the in- 
 evitable spring-house. A post, driven into the 
 bank by the stream, supported a tin wash- 
 basin, and here we performed our ablutions. 
 The traveler gets to like this freedom and 
 primitive luxury. 
 
 The farm of Egger produces corn, wheat, 
 grass, and sheep ; it is a good enough farm, but 
 most of it lies at an angle of thirty-five to forty 
 degrees. The ridge back of the house, planted 
 in corn, was as steep as the roof of his dwell- 
 ing. It seemed incredible that it ever could 
 have been ploughed, but the proprietor assured 
 us that it was ploughed with mules, and I 
 judged that the harvesting must be done by 
 squirrels. The soil is good enough, if it would 
 stay in place, but all the hillsides are seamed 
 with gullies. The discolored state of the 
 streams was accounted for as soon as we saw 
 this cultivated land. No sooner is the land 
 cleared of trees and broken up than it begins 
 to wash. We saw more of this later, espe- 
 cially in North Carolina, where we encountered 
 no stream of water that was not muddy, and 
 saw no cultivated ground that was not washed. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 21 
 
 The process of denudation is going on rapidly 
 wherever the original forests are girdled (a 
 common way of preparing for crops), or cut 
 away. 
 
 As the time passed and there was no sign of 
 supper, the question became a burning one, 
 and we went to explore the kitchen. No sign 
 of it there. No fire in the stove, nothing 
 cooked in the house, of course. Mrs. Egger 
 and her comely young barefooted daughter 
 had still the milking to attend to, and supper 
 must wait for the other chores. It seemed 
 easier to be Mr. Egger, in this state of exist- 
 ence, and sit on the front porch and meditate 
 on the price of mules and the prospect of a 
 crop, than to be Mrs. Egger, whose work was 
 not limited from sun to sun ; who had, in fact, 
 a day's work to do after the men-folks had 
 knocked off; whose chances of neighborhood 
 gossip were scanty, whose amusements were 
 confined to a religious meeting once a fort- 
 night. Good, honest people these, not unduly 
 puffed up by the brick house, grubbing away 
 year in and year out. Yes, the young girl 
 said, there was a neighborhood party, now and 
 then, in the winter. What a price to pay for 
 mere life ! 
 
 Long before supper was ready, nearly nine 
 o'clock, we had almost lost interest in it. 
 
22 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 Meantime two other guests had arrived, a 
 couple of drovers from North Carolina, who 
 brought into the circle — by this time a wood- 
 fire had been kindled in the sitting-room, 
 which contained a bed, an almanac, and some 
 old copies of a newspaper — a rich flavor of 
 cattle, and talk of the price of steers. As to 
 politics, although a presidential campaign was 
 raging, there was scarcely an echo of it here. 
 This was Johnson County, Tennessee, a strong 
 Republican county ; but dog-gone it, says Mr. 
 Egger, it 's no use to vote; our votes are over- 
 borne by the rest of the State. Yes, they 'd 
 got a Republican member of Congress, — 
 he 'd heard his name, but he 'd forgotten it. 
 The drover said he 'd heard it also, but he 
 did n't take much interest in such things, 
 though he was n't any Republican. Parties is 
 pretty much all for office, both agreed. Even 
 the Professor, who was traveling in the interest 
 of Reform, could n't wake up a discussion out 
 of such a state of mind. 
 
 Alas ! the supper, served in a room dimly 
 lighted with a smoky lamp, on a long table 
 covered witli oil-cloth, was not of the sort to 
 arouse the delayed and now gone appetite of 
 a Reformer, and yet it did not lack variety : 
 corn-pone (Indian meal stirred up with water 
 and heated through), hot biscuit slack-baked 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 23 
 
 and livid, fried salt-pork swimming in grease, 
 apple-butter, pickled beets, onions and cucum- 
 bers raw, coffee, so-called, buttermilk, and 
 sweet milk when specially asked for (the cor- 
 rect taste, however, is for buttermilk), and pie. 
 This was not the pie of commerce, but the pie 
 of the country, — two thick slabs of dough, 
 with a squeezing of apple between. The pro- 
 fusion of this supper staggered the novices, 
 but the drovers attacked it as if such cooking 
 were a common occurrence, and did justice to 
 the weary labors of Mrs. Egger. 
 
 Egger is well prepared to entertain stran- 
 gers, having several rooms and several beds in 
 each room. Upon consultation with the dro- 
 vers, they said they 'd just as soon occupy an 
 apartment by themselves, and we gave up 
 their society for the night. The beds in our 
 chamber had each one sheet, and the room 
 otherwise gave evidence of the modern spirit; 
 for in one corner stood the fashionable aesthetic 
 decoration of our Queen Anne drawing-rooms, 
 — the spinning-wheel. Soothed by this con- 
 cession to taste, we crowded in between the 
 straw and the home-made blanket and sheet, 
 and soon ceased to hear the barking of dogs 
 and the horned encounters of the drover's herd. 
 
 We parted with Mr. Egger after breakfast 
 (which was a close copy of the supper) with 
 
24 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 more respect than regret. His total charge for 
 the entertainment of two men and two horses 
 — supper, lodging, and breakfast — was high 
 or low, as the traveler chose to estimate it. It 
 was $1.20 : that is, thirty cents for each indi- 
 vidual, or ten cents for each meal and lodging. 
 Our road was a sort of by-way up Gentry 
 Creek and over the Cut Laurel Gap to Worth's, 
 at Creston Post-Office, in North Carolina, — 
 the next available halting place, said to be 
 fifteen miles distant, and turning out to be 
 twenty-two, and a rough road. There is a 
 little settlement about Egger's, and the first 
 half mile of our way we had the company of 
 the school-mistress, a modest, pleasant-spoken 
 girl. Neither she nor any other people we 
 encountered had any dialect or local peculiar- 
 ity of speech. Indeed, those we encountered 
 that morning had nothing in manner or accent 
 to distinguish them. The novelists had led us 
 to expect something different ; and the modest 
 and pretty young lady with frank and open 
 blue eyes, who wore gloves and used the com- 
 mon English speech, had never figm - ed in the 
 fiction of the region. Cherished illusions van- 
 ish often on near approach. The day gave no 
 peculiarity of speech to note, except the occa- 
 sional use of " hit " for " it." 
 
 The road over Cut Laurel Gap was very 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 25 
 
 steep and stony, the thermometer mounted up 
 to 80°, and notwithstanding the beauty of the 
 way the ride became tedious before we reached 
 the summit. On the summit is the dwelling 
 and distillery of a colonel famous in these 
 parts. We stopped at the house for a glass 
 of milk ; the colonel was absent, and while the 
 woman in charge went after it, we sat on the 
 veranda and conversed with a young lady, tall, 
 gent, well favored, and communicative, who 
 leaned in the doorway. 
 
 "Yes, this house stands on the line. Where 
 you sit you are in Tennessee ; I'm in North 
 Carolina." 
 
 " Do you live here ? " 
 
 " Law, no ; I 'm just staying a little while 
 at the colonel's. I live over the mountain 
 here, three miles from Taylorsville. I thought 
 I 'd be where I could step into North Carolina 
 easy." 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 " Well, they wanted me to go before the 
 grand jury and testify about some pistol-shoot- 
 ing down by our house, — some friends of mine 
 got into a little difficulty, — and I did n't want 
 to. I never has no difficulty with nobody, 
 never says nothing about nobody, has nothing 
 against nobody, and I reckon nobody has noth- 
 ing against me." 
 
26 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 " Did you come alone ? " 
 
 " Why, of course. I come across the moun- 
 tain by a path through the woods. That 's 
 nothing." 
 
 A discreet, pleasant, pretty girl. This surely 
 must be the Esmeralda who lives in these 
 mountains, and adorns low life by her virgin 
 purity and sentiment. As she talked on, she 
 turned from time to time to the fireplace be- 
 hind her, and discharged a dark fluid from her 
 pretty lips, with accuracy of aim, and with a 
 nonchalance that was not assumed, but belongs 
 to our free-born American girls. I cannot tell 
 why this habit of hers (which is no worse than 
 the sister habit of " dipping ") should take her 
 out of the romantic setting that her face and 
 figure had placed her in ; but somehow we felt 
 inclined to ride on further for our heroine. 
 
 "And yet," said the Professor, as we left 
 the site of the colonel's thriving distillery, and 
 by a winding, picturesque road through a rough 
 farming country descended into the valley, — 
 " and yet why fling aside so readily a character 
 and situation so full of romance, on account of 
 a habit of this mountain Helen, which one of 
 our best poets has almost made poetical, in the 
 case of the pioneer taking his westward way, 
 with ox- goad pointing to the sky : — 
 
 " ' He 's leaving on the pictured rock 
 His fresh tobacco stain." 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 27 
 
 " To my mind the incident has Homeric ele- 
 ments. The Greeks would have looked at it 
 in a large, legendary way. Here is Helen, 
 strong and lithe of limb, ox-eyed, courageous, 
 but woman-hearted and love-inspiring, con- 
 tended for by all the braves and daring moon- 
 shiners of Cut Laurel Gap, pursued by the gal- 
 lants of two States, the prize of a border war- 
 fare of bowie knives and revolvers. This 
 Helen, magnanimous as attractive, is the wit- 
 ness of a pistol difficulty on her behalf, and 
 when wanted by the areopagus, that she may 
 neither implicate a lover nor punish an enemy 
 (having nothing, this noble type of her sex, 
 against nobody) skips away to Mount Ida, and 
 there, under the aegis of the flag of her coun- 
 try, in a Licensed Distillery, stands with one 
 slender foot in Tennessee and the other in 
 North Carolina " — 
 
 " Like the figure of the Eepublic itself, 
 superior to state sovereignty," interposed the 
 Friend. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the Professor, 
 iirging up Laura Matilda (for so he called the 
 nervous mare, who fretted herself into a fever 
 in the stony path), " I was quite able to get 
 the woman out of that position without the aid 
 of a metaphor. It is a large and Greek idea, 
 that of standing in two mighty States, supe- 
 
28 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 rior to the law, looking east and looking west, 
 ready to transfer her agile body to either State 
 on the approach of messengers of the court ; 
 and I '11 be hanged if I did n't think that her 
 nonchalant rumination of the weed, combined 
 with her lofty moral attitude, added something 
 to the picture." 
 
 The Friend said that he was quite willing 
 to join in the extremest defense of the privi- 
 leges of beauty, — that he even held in abey- 
 ance judgment on the practice of dipping; but 
 when it came to chewing, gum was as far as he 
 could go as an allowance for the fair sex. 
 
 " When I consider everything that grows 
 Holds in perfection but a little moment " — 
 
 The rest of the stanza was lost, for the Profes- 
 sor was splashing through the stream. No 
 sooner had we descended than the fording of 
 streams began again. The Friend had been 
 obliged to stipulate that the Professor should 
 go ahead at these crossings, to keep the impet- 
 uous nag of the latter from throwing half the 
 contents of the stream upon his slower and un- 
 complaining companion. 
 
 What a lovely country, but for the heat of 
 noon and the long wearisomeness of the way ! 
 — not that the distance was great, but miles 
 and miles more than expected. How charming 
 the open glades of the river, how refreshing 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 29 
 
 the great forests of oak and chestnut, and what 
 a panorama of beauty the banks of rhododen- 
 drons, now intermingled with the lighter pink 
 and white of the laurel ! In this, region the 
 rhododendron is called laurel, and the laurel 
 (the sheep-laurel of New England) is called 
 ivy. 
 
 At Worth's, well on in the afternoon, we 
 emerged into a wide, open farming intervale, 
 a pleasant place of meadows and streams and 
 decent dwellings. Worth's is the trading cen- 
 tre of the region, has a post-office and a saw- 
 mill and a big country store ; and the dwelling 
 of the proprietor is not unlike a roomy New 
 England country-house. Worth's has been im- 
 memorially a stopping place in a region where 
 places of accommodation are few. The pro- 
 prietor, now an elderly man, whose reminis- 
 cences are long ante bellum, has seen the world 
 grow up about him, he the houored, just centre 
 of it, and a family come up into the modern 
 notions of life, with a boarding-school educa- 
 tion and glimpses of city life and foreign 
 travel. I fancy that nothing but tradition and 
 a remaining Southern hospitality could induce 
 this private family to suffer the incursions of 
 this wayfaring man. Our travelers are not 
 apt to be surprised at anything in American 
 life, but they did not expect to find a house 
 
30 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 in this region with two pianos and a bevy of 
 young ladies, whose clothes were certainly 
 not made on Cut Laurel Gap, and to read in 
 the books scattered about the house the evi- 
 dences of the finishing schools with which our 
 country is blessed, nor to find here pupils of 
 the Stonewall Jackson Institute at Abingdon. 
 With a flush of local pride, the Professor took 
 up, in the roomy, pleasant chamber set apart 
 for the guests, a copy of Porter's Elements of 
 Moral Science. 
 
 " Where you see the Elements of Moral 
 Science," the Friend generalized, " there '11 be 
 plenty of water and towels ; " and the sign 
 did not fail. The friends intended to read 
 this book in the cool of the day ; but as they 
 sat on the long veranda, the voice of a maiden 
 reading the latest novel to a sewing group be- 
 hind the blinds in the drawing-room ; and the 
 antics of a mule and a boy in front of the 
 store opposite ; and the arrival of a spruce 
 young man, who had just ridden over from 
 somewhere, a matter of ten miles, gallop, to 
 get a medicinal potion for his sick mother, 
 and lingered chatting with the young ladies 
 until we began to fear that his mother would 
 recover before his return ; the coming and 
 going of lean women in shackly wagons to 
 trade at the store ; the coming home of the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 31 
 
 cows, splashing through the stream, hooking 
 right and left, and lowing for the hand of the 
 milker, — all these interruptions, together with 
 the generally drowsy quiet of the approach 
 of evening, interfered with the study of the 
 Elements. And when the travelers, after a 
 refreshing rest, went on their way next morn- 
 ing, considering the Elements and the pianos 
 and the refinement, to say nothing of the cui- 
 sine, which is not treated of in the text-book 
 referred to, they were content with a bill 
 double that of brother Egger, in his brick 
 magnificence. 
 
 The simple truth is that the traveler in this 
 region must be content to feed on natural beau- 
 ties. And it is an unfortunate truth in natural 
 history that the appetite for this sort of diet 
 fails after a time, if the inner man is not sup- 
 plied with other sort of food. There is no 
 landscape in the world that is agreeable after 
 two days of rusty bacon and slack biscuit. 
 
 " How lovely this would be," exclaimed the 
 Professor, "if it had a background of beef- 
 steak and coffee ! " 
 
 We were riding along the west fork of 
 the Laurel, distinguished locally as Three Top 
 Creek, — or rather we were riding in it, cross- 
 ing it thirty-one times within six miles ; a 
 charming wood (and water) road, under the 
 
32 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 shade of fine trees, with the rhododendron illu- 
 minating the way, gleaming in the forest and 
 reflected in the stream, all the ten miles to Elk 
 Cross Roads, our next destination. We had 
 heard a great deal about Elk Cross Roads ; it 
 was on the map, it was down in the itinerary- 
 furnished by a member of the Coast Survey. 
 We looked forward to it as a sweet place of 
 repose from the noontide heat. Alas ! Elk 
 Cross Roads is a dirty grocery-store, encum- 
 bered with dry-goods boxes, fly-blown goods, 
 flies, loafers. In reply to our inquiry, we 
 were told that they had nothing to eat, for 
 us, and not a grain of feed for the horses. 
 But there was a man a mile further on, who 
 was well to do and had stores of food, — 
 old man Tatem would treat us in bang-up 
 style. The difficulty of getting feed for the 
 horses was chronic all through the journey. 
 The last corn crop had failed, the new oats 
 and corn had not come in, and the country 
 was literally barren. We had noticed all along 
 that the hens were taking a vacation, and that 
 chickens were not put forward as an article 
 of diet. 
 
 We were unable, when we reached the resi- 
 dence of old man Tatem, to imagine how the 
 local superstition of his wealth arose. His 
 house is of logs, with two rooms, a kitchen 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 33 
 
 and a spare room, with a low loft accessible by 
 a ladder at the side of the chimney. The 
 chimney is a huge construction of stone, sep- 
 arating the two parts of the house ; in fact, the 
 chimney was built first, apparently, and the 
 two rooms were then built against it. The 
 proprietor sat in a little railed veranda. 
 These Southern verandas give an air to the 
 meanest dwelling, and they are much used ; 
 the family sit here, and here are the wash- 
 basin and pail (which is filled from the neigh- 
 boring spring-house) and the row of milk-pans. 
 The old man Tatem did not welcome us with 
 enthusiasm ; he had no corn, — these were 
 hard times. He looked like hard times, griz- 
 zled times, dirty times. It seemed time out of 
 mind since he had seen comb or razor, and 
 although the lovely New River, along which 
 we had ridden to his house, — a broad, inviting 
 stream, — was in sight across the meadow, 
 there was no evidence that he had ever made 
 acquaintance with its cleansing waters. As to 
 corn, the necessities of the case and pay being 
 dwelt on, perhaps he could find a dozen ears. 
 A dozen small ears he did find, and we trust 
 that the horses found them. 
 
 We took a family dinner with old man 
 Tatem in the kitchen, where there was a bed 
 and a stove, — a meal that the host seemed to 
 
34 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 enjoy, but which we could not make much of, 
 except the milk ; that was good. A painful 
 meal, on the whole, owing to the presence in 
 the room of a grown-up daughter with a grave- 
 yard cough, without physician or medicine, or 
 comforts. Poor girl! just dying of "a mis- 
 ery." 
 
 In the spare room were two beds ; the walls 
 were decorated with the gay-colored pictures 
 of patent-medicine advertisements — a favorite 
 art adornment of the region ; and a pile of 
 ancient illustrated papers with the usual pat- 
 ent-office report, the thoughtful gift of the 
 member for the district. The old man takes 
 in the Blue Ridge Baptist, a journal which we 
 found largely taken up with the experiences 
 of its editor on his journeys roundabout in 
 search of subscribers. This newspaper was the 
 sole communication of the family with the 
 world at large, but the old man thought he 
 should stop it, — he did n't seem to get the 
 worth of his money out of it. And old man 
 Tatem was a thrifty and provident man. On 
 the hearth in this best room — as ornaments 
 or memento mori — were a couple of marble 
 grave-stones, a short head-stone and foot-stone, 
 mounted on bases and ready for use, except the 
 lettering. These may not have been so mourn- 
 ful and significant as they looked, nor the evi- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 35 
 
 dence of simple, humble faith ; they may have 
 been taken for debt. But as parlor ornaments 
 they had a fascination which we could not es- 
 cape. 
 
 It was while we were bathing in the New 
 River, that afternoon, and meditating on the 
 grim, unrelieved sort of life of our host, that 
 the Professor said, " Judging by the face of 
 the Blue Ridge Baptist, he will charge us 
 smartly for the few nubbins of corn and the 
 milk." The face did not deceive us; the charge 
 was one dollar. At this rate it would have 
 broken us to have tarried with old man Tatem 
 (perhaps he is not old, but that is the name he 
 goes by) over night. 
 
 It was a hot afternoon, and it needed some 
 courage to mount and climb the sandy hill 
 leading us away from the corn-crib of Tatem. 
 But we entered almost immediately into fine 
 stretches of forest, and rode under the shade 
 of great oaks. The way, which began by the 
 New River, soon led us over the hills to the 
 higher levels of Watauga County. So far on 
 our journey we had been hemmed in by low 
 hills, and without any distant or mountain 
 outlooks. The excessive heat seemed out of 
 place at the elevation of over two thousand 
 feet, on which we were traveling. Boone, the 
 county-seat of Watauga County, was our des- 
 
36 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 tination, and, ever since morning, the guide- 
 boards and the trend of the roads had notified 
 us that everything in this region tends tow- 
 ards Boone as a centre of interest. The sim- 
 ple ingenuity of some of the guide-boards im- 
 pressed us. If, on coming to a fork, the trav- 
 eler was to turn to the right, the sign read, 
 
 To Boone 10 M. 
 If he was to go to the left, it read, 
 
 .M 01 aNOoa oT 
 A short ride of nine miles, on an ascending 
 road, through an open, uufenced forest region, 
 brought us long before sundown to this capital. 
 When we had ridden into its single street, 
 which wanders over gentle hills, and landed at 
 the most promising of the taverns, the Friend 
 informed his comrade that Boone was 8250 feet 
 above Albemarle Sound, and believed by its 
 inhabitants to be the highest village east of the 
 Rocky Mountains. The Professor said that it 
 might be so, but it was a God-forsaken place. 
 Its inhabitants numbered perhaps 250, a few of 
 them colored. It had a gaunt, shaky court- 
 house and jail, a store or two, and two taverns. 
 The two taverns are needed to accommodate 
 the judges and lawyers and their clients during 
 the session of the court. The court is the only 
 excitement and the only amusement. It is the 
 event from which other events date. Every- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 37 
 
 body in the county knows exactly when court 
 sits, and when court breaks. During the ses- 
 sion the whole county is practically in Boone, 
 men, women, and children. They camp there, 
 they attend the trials, they take sides ; half of 
 them, perhaps, are witnesses, for the region is 
 litigious, and the neighborhood quarrels are 
 entered into with spirit. To be fond of law- 
 suits seems a characteristic of an isolated peo- 
 ple in new conditions. The early settlers of 
 New England were. 
 
 Notwithstanding the elevation of Boone, 
 which insured a pure air, the thermometer that 
 afternoon stood at from 85° to 89°. The flies 
 enjoyed it. How they swarmed in this tavern ! 
 They would have carried off all the food from 
 the dining-room table (for flies do not mind 
 eating off oil-cloth, and are not particular how 
 food is cooked), but for the machine with hang- 
 ing flappers that swept the length of it ; and 
 they destroy all possibility of sleep except in 
 the dark. The mountain regions of North 
 Carolina are free from mosquitoes, but the fly 
 has settled there, and is the universal scourge. 
 This tavern, one end of which was a store, had 
 a veranda in front, and a back gallery, where 
 there were evidences of female refinement in 
 pots of plants and flowers. The landlord him- 
 self kept tavern very much as a hostler would, 
 
38 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 but we had to make a note in his favor that he 
 had never heard of a milk punch. And. it 
 might as well be said here, for it will have to 
 be insisted on later, that the traveler, who has 
 read about the illicit stills till his imagination 
 dwells upon the indulgence of his vitiated 
 tastes in the mountains of North Carolina, is 
 doomed to disappointment. If he wants to 
 make himself an exception to the sober people 
 whose cooking will make him long for the 
 maddening bowl, he must bring his poison with 
 him. We had found no bread since we left 
 Virginia; we had seen corn-meal and water, 
 slack-baked ; we had seen potatoes fried in 
 grease, and bacon encrusted with salt (all thirst- 
 provokers), but nothing to drink stronger than 
 buttermilk. And we can say that, so far as 
 our example is concerned, we left the country 
 as temperate as we found it. How can there 
 be mint-juleps (to go into details) without ice ? 
 and in the summer there is probably not a 
 pound of ice in all the State north of Bun- 
 combe County. 
 
 There is nothing special to be said about 
 Boone. We were anxious to reach it, we were 
 glad to leave it ; we note as to all these places 
 that our joy at departing always exceeds that 
 on arriving, which is a merciful provision of 
 nature for people who must keep moving. This 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 39 
 
 country is settled by genuine Americans, who 
 have the aboriginal primitive traits of the uni- 
 versal Yankee nation. The front porch in the 
 morning resembled a carpenter's shop ; it was 
 literally covered with the whittlings of the row 
 of natives who had spent the evening there in 
 u,ne sedative occupation of whittling. 
 
 We took that morning a forest road to Valle 
 Crusis, seven miles, through noble growths of 
 oaks, chestnuts, hemlocks, rhododendrons; a 
 charming wood road, leading to a place that, 
 as usual, did not keep the promise of its name. 
 Valle Crusis has a blacksmith shop and a dirty, 
 fly-blown store. While the Professor consulted 
 the blacksmith about a loose shoe, the Friend 
 carried his weariness of life without provisions 
 up to a white house on the hill, and negotiated 
 for boiled milk. This house was occupied by 
 flies. They must have numbered millions, set- 
 tled in black swarms, covering tables, beds, 
 walls, the veranda; the kitchen was simply a 
 hive of them. The only book in sight, Whe- 
 well's Elements of Morality, seemed to attract 
 flies. Query, Why should this have such a 
 different effect from Porter's ? A white house, 
 a pleasant-looking house at a distance, amiable, 
 kindly people in it, — why should we have 
 arrived there on its dirty day ? Alas ! if we 
 had been starving, Valle Crusis had nothing to 
 offer us. 
 
40 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 So we rode away, in the blazing heat, **j 
 poetry exuding from the Professor, eight miles 
 to Banner's Elk, crossing a mountain and pass- 
 ing under Hanging Rock, a conspicuous feature 
 in the landscape, and the only outcropping of 
 rock we had seen : the face of a ledge, rounded 
 up into the sky, with a green hood on it. From 
 the summit we had the first extensive prospect 
 during our journey. The road can be described 
 as awful, — steep, stony, the horses unable to 
 make two miles an hour on it. Now and then 
 we encountered a rude log cabin without barns 
 or outhouses, and a little patch of feeble corn. 
 The women who regarded the passers from 
 their cabin doors were frowzy and looked tired. 
 What with the heat and the road and this dis- 
 couraged appearance of humanity, we reached 
 the residence of Dugger, at Banner's Elk, to 
 which we had been directed, nearly exhausted. 
 It is no use to represent this as a dash across 
 country on impatient steeds. It was not so. 
 The love of truth is stronger than the desire of 
 display. And for this reason it is impossible to 
 say that Mr. Dugger, who is an excellent man, 
 lives in a clean and attractive house, or that he 
 offers much that the pampered child of civili- 
 zation can eat. But we shall not forget the 
 two eggs, fresh from the hens, whose tempera- 
 ture must have been above the normal, nor the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 41 
 
 spring-house in the glen, where we found a 
 refuge from the flies and the heat. The higher 
 we go, the hotter it is. Banner's Elk boasts 
 an elevation of 3500 to 3700 feet. 
 
 We were not sorry, towards sunset, to de- 
 scend along the Elk River towards Cranberry 
 Forge. The Elk is a lovely stream, and, though 
 not very clear, has a reputation for trout ; but 
 all this region was under operation of a three- 
 years game law, to give the trout a chance to 
 multiply, and we had no opportunity to test 
 the value of its reputation. Yet a boy whom 
 we encountered had a good string of quarter- 
 pound trout, which he had taken out with a 
 hook and a feather rudely tied on it, to resem- 
 ble a fly. The road, though not to be com- 
 mended, was much better than that of the 
 morning, the forests grew charming in the cool 
 of the evening, the whippoorwill sang, and as 
 night fell the wanderers, in want of nearly 
 everything that makes life desirable, stopped 
 at the Iron Company's hotel, under the impres- 
 sion that it was the only comfortable hotel in 
 North Carolina. 
 
II. 
 
 Cranberry Forge is the first wedge of 
 civilization fairly driven into the northwest 
 mountains of North Carolina. A narrow-gauge 
 railway, starting from Johnson City, follows 
 up the narrow gorge of the Doe River, and 
 pushes into the heart of the iron mines at 
 Cranberry, where there is a blast furnace ; and 
 where a big company store, rows of tenement 
 houses, heaps of slag and refuse ore, interlac- 
 ing tracks, raw embankments, denuded hill- 
 sides, and a blackened landscape are the signs 
 of a great devastating American enterprise. 
 The Cranberry iron is in great esteem, as it 
 has the peculiar quality of the Swedish iron. 
 There are remains of old furnaces lower down 
 the stream, which we passed on our way. The 
 present " plant " is that of a Philadelphia com- 
 pany, whose enterprise has infused new life 
 into all this region, made it accessible, and 
 spoiled some pretty scenery. 
 
 When we alighted, weary, at the gate of 
 the pretty hotel, which crowns a gentle hill 
 and commands a pleasing, evergreen prospect 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 43 
 
 of many gentle hills, a mile or so below the 
 works and wholly removed from all sordid as- 
 sociations, we were at the point of willingness 
 that the whole country should be devastated 
 by civilization. In the local imagination this 
 hotel of the company is a palace of unequaled 
 magnificence, but probably its good-taste, com- 
 fort, and quiet elegance are not appreciated 
 after all. There is this to be said about Phil- 
 adelphia — and it will go far in pleading for 
 it in the Last Day against its monotonous rec- 
 tangularity and the Babel-like ambition of its 
 Public Building — that wherever its influence 
 extends there will be found comfortable lodg- 
 ings and the luxury of an undeniably excellent 
 cuisine. The visible seal that Philadelphia 
 sets on its enterprise all through the South is 
 a good hotel. 
 
 This Cottage Beautiful has on two sides a 
 wide veranda, set about with easy chairs ; 
 cheerful parlors and pretty chambers, finished 
 in native woods, among which are conspicuous 
 the satin stripes of the cucumber tree ; luxuri- 
 ous beds, and an inviting table, ordered by a 
 Philadelphia landlady, who knows a beefsteak 
 from a boot-tap. Is it " low " to dwell upon 
 these things of the senses, when one is on a 
 tour in search of the picturesque ? Let the 
 reader ride from Abingdon through a wilder- 
 
44 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 ness of corn-pone and rusty bacon, and then 
 judge. There were, to be sure, novels lying 
 about, and newspapers, and fragments of in- 
 formation to be picked up about a world into 
 which the travelers seemed to emerge. They, 
 at least, were satisfied, and went off to their 
 rooms with the restful feeling that they bad 
 arrived somewhere, and no unquiet spirit at 
 morn would say " to horse." To sleep, per- 
 chance to dream of Tatem and his household 
 cemetery, and the Professor was heard mutter- 
 ing in his chamber, 
 
 " Weary, with toil, I haste me to my bed, 
 The dear repose for limbs with travel tired ; 
 But then begins a journey in my head, 
 To work my mind, when body's work 's expir'd." 
 
 The morning was warm (the elevation of the 
 hotel must be between 2500 and 3000 feet), 
 rainy, mildly rainy ; and the travelers had 
 nothing better to do than lounge upon the 
 veranda, read feeble ten-cent fictions, and ad- 
 mire the stems of the white birches, glistening 
 in the moisture, and the rhododendron trees, 
 twenty feet high, which were shaking off their 
 last pink blossoms, and look down into the val- 
 ley of the Doe. It is not an exciting landscape, 
 nothing bold or specially wild in it, but restful 
 with the monotony of some of the wooded 
 Pennsylvania* hills. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 45 
 
 Sunday came up smiling, a lovely day, but 
 offering no church privileges, for the ordinance 
 of preaching is only occasional in this region. 
 The ladies of the hotel have, however, gathered 
 in the valley a Sunday-school of fifty children 
 from the mountain cabins. A couple of rainy 
 days, with the thermometer rising to 80°, com- 
 bined with natural laziness to detain the trav- 
 elers in this cottage of ease. They enjoyed this 
 the more because it was on their consciences 
 that they should visit Linville Falls, some 
 twenty-five miles eastward, long held up before 
 them as the most magnificent feature of this 
 region, and on no account to be omitted. 
 Hence naturally a strong desire to omit it. 
 The Professor takes bold ground against these 
 abnormal freaks of nature, and it was nothing 
 to him that the public would demand that we 
 should see Linville Falls. In the first place we 
 could find no one who had ever seen them, and 
 we spent two days in catechizing natives and 
 strangers. The nearest we came to informa- 
 tion was from a workman at the furnace, who 
 was born and raised within three miles of the 
 Falls. He had heard of people going there. 
 He had never seen them himself. It was a 
 good twenty-five miles there, over the worst 
 road in the State — we 'd think it thirty before 
 we got there. Fifty miles of such travel to 
 
46 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 see a little water run down hill ! The travelers 
 reflected. Every country has a local waterfall 
 of which it boasts; they had seen a great 
 many. One more would add little to the expe- 
 rience of life. The vagueness of information, 
 to be sure, lured the travelers to undertake the 
 journey ; but the temptation was resisted — 
 something ought to be left for the next ex- 
 plorer — and so Linville remains a thing of the 
 imagination. 
 
 Towards evening, July 29th, between show- 
 ers, the Professor and the Friend rode along 
 the narrow-gauge road, down Johnson's Creek, 
 to Roan Station, the point of departure for 
 ascending Roan Mountain. It was a ride of 
 an hour and a half over a fair road, fringed 
 with rhododendrons, nearly blossomless ; but at 
 a point on the stream this sturdy shrub had 
 formed a long bower where -under a table 
 might have been set for a temperance picnic, 
 completely overgrown with wild grape, and 
 still gay with bloom. The habitations on the 
 way are mostly board shanties and mean frame 
 cabins, but the railway is introducing ambi- 
 tious architecture here and there in the form 
 of ornamental filigree work on flimsy houses ; 
 ornamentation is apt to precede comfort in our 
 civilization. 
 
 Roan Station is on the Doe River (which 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 47 
 
 flows down from Roan Mountain), and is 
 marked at 2650 feet above the sea. The vis- 
 itor will find here a good hotel, with open wood 
 fires (not ungrateful in a July evening), and 
 obliging people. This railway from Johnson 
 City, hanging on the edge of the precipices 
 that wall the gorge of the Doe, is counted in 
 this region by the inhabitants one of the engi- 
 neering wonders of the world. The tourist is 
 urged by all means to see both it and Linville 
 Falls. 
 
 The tourist on horseback, in search of exer- 
 cise and recreation, is not probably expected 
 to take stock of moral conditions. But this 
 Mitchell County, although it was a Union 
 county during the war and is Republican in 
 politics (the Southern reader will perhaps pre- 
 fer another adverb to " although "), has had 
 the worst possible reputation. The mountains 
 were hiding-places of illicit distilleries; the 
 woods were full of grog- shanties, where the 
 inflaming fluid was sold as " native brandy," 
 quarrels and neighborhood difficulties were fre- 
 quent, and the knife and pistol were used on 
 the slightest provocation. Fights arose about 
 boundaries and the title to mica mines, and 
 with the revenue officers ; and force was the 
 arbiter of all disputes. Within the year four 
 murders were committed in the sparsely set- 
 
48 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 tied county. Travel on any of the roads was 
 unsafe. The tone of morals was what might be 
 expected with such lawlessness. A lady who 
 came up on the road on the 4th of July, when 
 an excursion party of country people took pos- 
 session of the cars, witnessed a scene and heard 
 language past belief. Men, women, and chil- 
 dren drank from whiskey bottles that contin- 
 ually circulated, and a wild orgy resulted. 
 Profanity, indecent talk on topics that even 
 the license of the sixteenth century would not 
 have tolerated, and freedom of manners that 
 even Teniers would have shrunk from putting 
 on canvas made the journey horrible. 
 
 The unrestrained license of whiskey and as- 
 sault and murder had produced a reaction a 
 few months previous to our visit. The people 
 had risen up in their indignation and broken 
 up the groggeries. So far as we observed tem- 
 perance prevailed, backed by public opinion. 
 In our whole ride through the mountain region 
 we saw only one or two places where liquor 
 was sold. 
 
 It is called twelve miles from Roan Station 
 to Roan Summit. The distance is probably 
 nearer fourteen, and our horses were five hours 
 in walking it. For six miles the road runs by 
 Doe River, here a pretty brook shaded with 
 laurel and rhododendron, and a few cultivated 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 49 
 
 patches of ground and infrequent houses. It 
 was a blithe morning, and the horsemen would 
 have given full indulgence to the spirit of 
 adventure but for the attitude of the Professor 
 towards mountains. It was not with him a 
 matter of feeling, but of principle, not to as- 
 cend them. But here lay Roan, a long, sprawl- 
 ing ridge, lifting itself 6250 feet up into the 
 sky. Impossible to go around it, and the other 
 side must be reached. The Professor was 
 obliged to surrender, and surmount a difficulty 
 which he could not philosophize out of his 
 mind. 
 
 From the base of the mountain a road is 
 very well engineered, in easy grades for car- 
 riages, to the top ; but it was in poor repair 
 and stony. We mounted slowly through splen- 
 did forests, specially of fine chestnuts and hem- 
 locks. This big timber continues till within a 
 mile and a half of the summit by the winding 
 road, really within a short distance of the top. 
 Then there is a narrow belt of scrubby hard- 
 wood, moss-grown, and then large balsams, 
 which crown the mountain. As soon as we 
 came out upon the southern slope we found 
 great open spaces, covered with succulent 
 grass, and giving excellent pasturage to cattle. 
 These rich mountain meadows are found on 
 all the heights of this region. The surface of 
 
50 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 Roan is uneven, and has no one culminating 
 peak that commands the country, like the peak 
 of Mount Washington, but several eminences 
 within its range of probably a mile and a half, 
 where various views can be had. Near the 
 highest point, sheltered from the north by bal- 
 sams, stands a house of entertainment, with a 
 detached cottage, looking across the great val- 
 ley to the Black Mountain range. The sur- 
 face of the mountain is pebbly, but few rocks 
 crop out ; no ledges of any size are seen ex- 
 cept at a distance from the hotel, on the north 
 side, and the mountain consequently lacks that 
 savage, unsubduable aspect which the White 
 Hills of New Hampshire have. It would, in 
 fact, have been difficult to realize that we were 
 over 6000 feet above the sea, except for that 
 pallor in the sunlight, that atmospheric thin- 
 ness and want of color which is an unpleasant 
 characteristic of high altitudes. To be sure, 
 there is a certain brilliancy in the high air — 
 it is apt to be foggy on Roan — and objects 
 appear in sharp outline, but I have often expe- 
 rienced on such places that feeling of melan- 
 choly, which would, of course, deepen upon us 
 all if we were sensible that the sun was grad- 
 ually withdrawing its power of warmth and 
 light. The black balsam is neither a cheerful 
 nor a picturesque tree ; the frequent rains and 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 51 
 
 mists on Roan keep the grass and mosses 
 green, but the ground damp. Doubtless a 
 high mountain covered with vegetation has its 
 compensation, but for me the naked granite 
 rocks in sun and shower are more cheerful. 
 
 The advantage of Roan is that one can live 
 there and be occupied for a long time in min- 
 eral and botanical study. Its mild climate, 
 moisture, and great elevation make it unique 
 in this country for the botanist. The variety 
 of plants assembled there is very large, and 
 there are many, we were told, never or rarely 
 found elsewhere in the United States. At any 
 rate the botanists rave about Roan Mountain 
 and spend weeks on it at a time. We found 
 there ladies who could draw for us Grey's lily 
 (then passed), and had kept specimens of the 
 rhododendron (not growing elsewhere in this 
 region), which has a deep red, almost purple 
 color. 
 
 The hotel (since replaced by a good house) 
 was a rude mountain structure, with a couple of 
 comfortable rooms for office and sitting-room, in 
 which big wood fires were blazing ; for though 
 the thermometer might record 60°, as it did 
 when we arrived, fire was welcome. Sleeping 
 places partitioned off in the loft above gave the 
 occupants a feeling of camping out, all the con- 
 veniences being primitive ; and when the wind 
 
52 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 rose in the night and darkness, and the loose 
 boards rattled and the timbers creaked, the 
 sensation was not unlike that of being at sea. 
 The hotel was satisfactorily kept, and Southern 
 guests, from as far south as New Orleans, were 
 spending the season there, and not finding time 
 hang heavy on their hands. This statement is 
 perhaps worth more than pages of description 
 as to the character of Roan, and its contrast 
 to Mount Washington. 
 
 The summer weather is exceedingly uncertain 
 on all these North Carolina mountains ; they 
 are apt at any moment to be enveloped in mist ; 
 and it would rather rain on them than not. 
 On the afternoon of our arrival there was fine 
 air and fair weather, but not a clear sky. The 
 distance was hazy, but the outlines were pre- 
 served. We could see White Top, in Virginia ; 
 Grandfather Mountain, a long serrated range ; 
 the twin towers of Linville ; and the entire 
 range of the Black Mountains, rising from the 
 valley, and apparently lower than we were. 
 They get the name of Black from the balsams 
 which cover the summits. 
 
 The rain on Roan was of less annoyance by 
 reason of the delightful company assembled at 
 the hotel, which was in a manner at home 
 there, and, thrown upon its own resources, 
 came out uncommonly strong in agreeableness. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 53 
 
 There was a fiddle in the house, which had 
 some of the virtues of that celebrated in the 
 history of old Mark Langston ; the Professor 
 was enabled to produce anything desired out of 
 the literature of the eighteenth century ; and 
 what with the repartee of bright women, big 
 wood fires, reading, and chat, there was no dull 
 day or evening on Roan. I can fancy, however, 
 that it might tire in time, if one were not a 
 botanist, without the resource of women's so- 
 ciety. The ladies staying here were probably 
 all accomplished botanists, and the writer is 
 indebted to one of them for a list of plants 
 found on Roan, among which is an interesting 
 weed, catalogued as Humana, perplexia negli- 
 gent. The species is, however, common else- 
 where. 
 
 The second morning opened, after a night of 
 high wind, with a thunder shower. After it 
 passed, the visitors tried to reach Eagle Cliff, 
 two miles off, whence an extensive western 
 prospect is had, but were driven back by a 
 tempest, and rain practically occupied the day. 
 Now and then through the parted clouds we 
 got a glimpse of a mountain-side, or the gleam 
 of a valley. On the lower mountains, at wide 
 intervals apart, were isolated settlements, com- 
 monly a wretched cabin and a spot of girdled 
 trees. A clergyman here, not long ago, under- 
 
54 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 took to visit some of these cabins and carry 
 his message to them. In one wretched hut of 
 logs he found a poor woman, with whom, after 
 conversation on serious subjects, he desired to 
 pray. She offered no objection, and he kneeled 
 down and prayed. The woman heard him, and 
 watched him for some moments with curiosity, 
 in an effort to ascertain what he was doing, 
 and then said : — 
 
 " Why, a man did that when he put my girl 
 in a hole." 
 
 Towards night the wind hauled round from 
 the south to the northwest, and we went to 
 High Bluff, a point on the north edge, where 
 some rocks are piled up above the evergreens, 
 to get a view of the sunset. In every direction 
 the mountains were clear, and a view was ob- 
 tained of the vast horizon and the hills and 
 lowlands of several States — a continental pros- 
 pect, scarcely anywhere else equaled for vari- 
 ety or distance. The grandeur of mountains 
 depends mostly on the state of the atmos- 
 phere. Grandfather loomed up much more lof- 
 tily than the day before, the giant range of 
 the Blacks asserted itself in grim inaccessibility, 
 and we could see, a small pyramid on the south- 
 west horizon, King's Mountain in South Caro- 
 lina, estimated to be distant one hundred and 
 fifty miles. To the north Roan falls from this 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 55 
 
 point abruptly, and we had, like a map below 
 us, the low country all the way into Virginia. 
 The clouds lay like lakes in the valleys of the 
 lower hills, and in every direction were ranges 
 of mountains wooded to the summits. Off to 
 the west by south lay the Great Smoky Moun- 
 tains, disputing eminence with the Blacks. 
 
 Magnificent and impressive as the spectacle 
 was, we were obliged to contrast it unfavorably 
 with that of the White Hills. The rock here is 
 a sort of sand or pudding stone ; there is no 
 limestone or granite. And all the hills are tree- 
 covered. To many this clothing of verdure is 
 most restful and pleasing. I missed the sharp 
 outlines, the delicate artistic sky lines, sharply 
 defined in uplifted bare granite peaks and 
 ridges, with the purple and violet color of the 
 northern mountains, and which it seems to me 
 that limestone and granite formations give. 
 There are none of the great gorges and awful 
 abysses of the White Mountains, both valleys 
 and mountains here being more uniform in out- 
 line. There are few precipices and jutting 
 crags, and less is visible of the giant ribs and 
 bones of the planet. 
 
 Yet Roan is a noble mountain. A lady from 
 Tennessee asked me if I had ever seen any- 
 thing to compare with it — she thought there 
 could be nothing in the world. One has to 
 
56 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 dodge this sort of question in the South occa- 
 sionally, not to offend a just local pride. It is 
 certainly one of the most habitable of big moun- 
 tains. It is roomy on top, there is space to 
 move about without too great fatigue, and one 
 might pleasantly spend a season there, if he 
 had agreeable company and natural tastes. 
 
 Getting down from Roan on the south side 
 is not as easy as ascending on the north ; the 
 road for five miles to the foot of the mountain 
 is merely a river of pebbles, gullied by the 
 heavy rains, down which the horses picked 
 their way painfully. The travelers endeavored 
 to present a dashing and cavalier appearance to 
 the group of ladies who waved good-by from 
 the hotel, as they took their way over the 
 waste and wind-blown declivities, but it was 
 only a show, for the horses would neither car- 
 acole nor champ the bit (at a dollar a day) 
 down hill over the slippery stones, and, 
 truth to tell, the wanderers turned with regret 
 from the society of leisure and persiflage to 
 face the wilderness of Mitchell County. " How 
 heavy," exclaimed the Professor, pricking Laura 
 Matilda to call her attention sharply to her 
 footing : — 
 
 " How heavy do Ijourney on the way, 
 When what I seek — my weary travel's end — 
 Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 57 
 
 ' Thus far the miles are measur'd from thy friend ! ' 
 The heast that bears me, tired with my woe, 
 Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me, 
 As if by some instinct the wretch did know 
 His rider loved not speed, being made from thee : 
 The bloody spur cannot provoke him on 
 That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, 
 Which heavily he answers with a groan, 
 More sharp to me than spurring to his side ; 
 
 For that same groan doth put this in my mind ; 
 
 My grief lies onward and my joy behind." 
 
 This was not spoken to the group who fluttered 
 their farewells, but poured out to the uncom- 
 plaining forest, which rose up in ever statelier 
 and grander ranks to greet the travelers as they 
 descended — the silent vast forest, without note 
 of bird or chip of squirrel, only the wind toss- 
 ing the great branches high overhead in re- 
 sponse to the sonnet. Is there any region or 
 circumstance of life that the poet did not fore- 
 cast and provide for? But what would have 
 been his feelings if he could have known that 
 almost three centuries after these lines were 
 penned, they would be used to express the 
 emotion of an unsentimental traveler in the 
 primeval forests of the New World ? At any 
 rate he peopled the New World with the chil- 
 dren of his imagination. And, thought the 
 Friend, whose attention to his horse did not 
 permit him to drop into poetry, Shakespeare 
 might have had a vision of this vast continent, 
 
58 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 though he did not refer to it, when he ex» 
 claimed : — 
 
 " What is your substance, whereof are you made, 
 That millions of strange shadows on you tend?" 
 
 Bakersville, the capital of Mitchell County, 
 is eight miles from the top of Roan, and the 
 last three miles of the way the horsemen found 
 tolerable going, over which the horses could 
 show their paces. The valley looked fairly 
 thrifty and bright, and was a pleasing introduc- 
 tion to Bakersville, a pretty place in the hills, 
 of some six hundred inhabitants, with two 
 churches, three indifferent hotels, and a court- 
 house. This mountain town, 2550 feet above 
 the sea, is said to have a decent winter climate, 
 with little snow, favorable to fruit-growing, and, 
 by contrast with New England, encouraging to 
 people with weak lungs. 
 
 This is the centre of the mica mining, and of 
 considerable excitement about minerals. All 
 around, the hills are spotted with " diggings." 
 Most of the mines which yield well show signs 
 of having been worked before, a very long time 
 ago, no doubt by the occupants before the In- 
 dians. The mica, is of excellent quality and 
 easily mined. It is got out in large irregular- 
 shaped blocks and transported to the factories, 
 where it is carefully split by hand, and the 
 laminae, of as large size as can be obtained, are 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 59 
 
 trimmed with shears and tied up in packages 
 for market. The quantity of refuse, broken, 
 and rotten mica piled up about the factories is 
 immense, and all the roads round about glisten 
 with its scales. Garnets are often found im- 
 bedded in the laminas, flattened by the extreme 
 pi'essure to which the mass was subjected. It 
 is fascinating material, this mica, to handle, 
 and we amused ourselves by experimenting on 
 the thinness to which its scales could be re- 
 duced by splitting. It was at Bakersville that 
 we saw specimens of mica that resembled the 
 delicate tracery in the moss-agate, and had the 
 iridescent sheen of the rainbow colors — the 
 most delicate greens, reds, blues, purples, and 
 gold, changing from one to the other in the 
 reflected light. In the texture were the trac- 
 ings of fossil forms of ferns and the most ex- 
 quisite and delicate vegetable beauty of the 
 coal age. But the magnet shows this tracery 
 to be iron. We were shown also emeralds and 
 " diamonds," picked up in this region, and there 
 is a mild expectation in all the inhabitants of 
 great mineral treasure. A singular product of 
 the region is the flexible sandstone. It is a 
 most uncanny stone. A slip of it a couple of 
 feet long and an inch in diameter each way 
 bends in the hand like a half frozen snake. 
 This conduct of a substance that we have been 
 
60 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 taught to regard as inflexible impairs one's con- 
 fidence in the stability of nature and affects 
 him as an earthquake does. 
 
 This excitement over mica and other miner- 
 als has the usual effect of starting up business 
 and creating bad blood. Fortunes have been 
 made, and lost in riotous living ; scores of vis- 
 ionary men have been disappointed ; lawsuits 
 about titles and claims have multiplied, and 
 quarrels ending in murder have been frequent 
 in the past few years. The mica and the illicit 
 whiskey have worked together to make this 
 region one of lawlessness and violence. The 
 travelers were told stories of the lack of com- 
 mon morality and decency in the region, but 
 they made no note of them. And, perhaps 
 fortunately, they were not there during court 
 week to witness the scenes of license that were 
 described. This court week, which draws 
 hither the whole population, is a. sort of Satur- 
 nalia. Perhaps the worst of this is already a 
 thing of the past ; for the outrages a year be- 
 fore had reached such a pass that by a com- 
 mon movement the sale of whiskey was stopped 
 (not interdicted, but stopped), and not a drop 
 of liquor could be bought in Bakersville nor 
 within three miles of it. 
 
 The jail at Bakersville is a very simple resi- 
 dence. The main building is brick, two stories 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 61 
 
 high and about twelve feet square. The walls 
 are so loosely laid up that it seems as if a 
 colored prisoner might butt his head through. 
 Attached to this is a room for the jailer. In 
 the lower room is a wooden cage, made of logs 
 bolted together and filled with spikes, nine feet 
 by ten feet square and perhaps seven or eight 
 feet high. Between this cage and the wall is 
 a space of eighteen inches in width. It has a 
 narrow door, and an opening through which 
 the food is passed to the prisoners, and a con- 
 duit leading out of it. Of course it soon be- 
 comes foul, and in warm weather somewhat 
 warm. A recent prisoner, who wanted more 
 ventilation than the State allowed him, found 
 some means, by a loose plank, I think, to batter 
 a hole in the outer wall opposite the window in 
 the cage, and this ragged opening, seeming to 
 the jailer a good sanitary arrangement, re- 
 mains. Two murderers occupied this apart- 
 ment at the time of our visit. During the 
 recent session of court, ten men had been con- 
 fined in this narrow space, without room enough 
 for them to lie down together. The cage in 
 the room above, a little larger, had for tenant 
 a person who was jailed for some misunder- 
 standing about an account, and who was prob- 
 ably innocent — from the jailer's statement. 
 This box is a wretched residence, month after 
 month, while awaiting trial. 
 
62 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 We learned on inquiry that it is practically 
 impossible to get a jury to convict of murder 
 in this region, and that these admitted felons 
 would undoubtedly escape. We even heard 
 that juries were purchasable here, and that a 
 man's success in court depended upon the 
 length of his purse. This is such an unheard- 
 of thing that we refused to credit it. When 
 the Friend attempted to arouse the indignation 
 of the Professor about the barbarity of this jail, 
 the latter defended it on the ground that as 
 confinement was the only punishment that 
 murderers were likely to receive in this region, 
 it was well to make their detention disagree- 
 able to them. But the Friend did not like this 
 wild-beast cage for men, and could only ex- 
 claim, " Oh, murder ! what crimes are done in 
 thy name." 
 
 If the comrades wished an adventure, they 
 had a small one, more interesting to them than 
 to the public, the morning they left Bakers- 
 ville to ride to Burnsville, which sets itself up 
 as the capital of Yancey. The way for the 
 first three miles lay down a small creek and in 
 a valley fairly settled, the houses, a store, and 
 a grist-mill giving evidence of the new enter- 
 prise of the region. When Toe River was 
 reached there was a choice of routes. We 
 might ford the Toe at that point, where the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 63 
 
 river was wide, but shallow, and the crossing 
 safe, and climb over the mountain by a rough 
 but sightly road, or descend the stream by a 
 better road and ford the river at a place rather 
 dangerous to those unfamiliar with it. Tbe 
 danger attracted us, but we promptly chose 
 the hill road on account of the views, for we 
 were weary of the limited valley prospects. 
 
 The Toe River, even here, where it bears 
 westward, is a very respectable stream in size, 
 and not to be trifled with after a shower. It 
 gradually turns northward, and joining the 
 Nolleclracky becomes part of the Tennessee 
 system. We crossed it by a long, diagonal 
 ford, slipping and sliding about on the round 
 stones, and began the ascent of a steep hill. 
 The sun beat down unmercifully, the way was 
 stony, and the horses did not relish the weary 
 climbing. The Professor, who led the way, 
 not for the sake of leadership but to be the 
 discoverer of laden blackberry bushes, which 
 began to offer occasional refreshment, discour- 
 aged by the inhospitable road and perhaps 
 oppressed by the moral backwardness of things 
 in general, cried out : — 
 
 " Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, — 
 As, to behold desert a beggar born, 
 And needy nothing tiimm'd in jollity, 
 And purest faith unhappily forsworn, 
 
64 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, 
 And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, 
 And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, 
 And strength by limping sway disabled, 
 And art made tongue-tied by authority, 
 And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill, 
 And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, 
 And captive good attending captain ill : 
 Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, 
 Save that, to die, I leave my love alone." 
 
 Iii the midst of a lively discussion of this 
 pessimistic view of the inequalities of life, in 
 which desert nnd capacity are so often put at 
 disadvantage by birth in beggarly conditions, 
 and brazen assumption raises the dust from its 
 chariot wheels for modest merit to plod along 
 in, the Professor swung himself off his horse 
 to attack a blackberry bush, and the Friend, 
 representing simple truth, and desirous of get- 
 ting a wider prospect, urged his horse up the 
 hill. At the top he encountered a stranger, 
 on a sorrel horse, with whom he entered into 
 conversation and extracted all the discourage- 
 ment the man had as to the road to Burns- 
 ville. 
 
 Nevertheless, the view opened finely and ex- 
 tensively. There are few exhilarations com- 
 parable to that of riding or walking along a 
 high ridge, and the spirits of the traveler rose 
 many degrees above the point of restful death, 
 for which the Professor was crying when he 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 65 
 
 encountered the blackberry bushes. Luckily 
 the Friend soon fell in with a like temptation, 
 and dismounted. He discovered something 
 that spoiled his appetite for berries. His coat, 
 strapped on behind the saddle, had worked 
 loose, the pocket was open, and the pocket- 
 book was gone. This was serious business. 
 For while the Professor was the cashier, and 
 traveled like a Rothschild, with large drafts, 
 the Friend represented the sub-treasury. That 
 very morning, in response to inquiry as to the 
 sinews of travel, the Friend had displayed, 
 without counting, a roll of bills. These bills 
 had now disappeared, and when the Friend 
 turned back to communicate his loss, in the 
 character of needy nothing not trimm'd in jol- 
 lity, he had a sympathetic listener to the tale 
 of woe. 
 
 Going back on such a journey is the woeful- 
 est experience, but retrace our steps we must. 
 Perhaps the pocket-book lay in the road not 
 half a mile back. But not in a half a mile, or 
 a mile, was it found. Probably, then, the man 
 on the sorrel horse had picked it up. But who 
 was the man on the sorrel horse, and where 
 had he gone ? Probably the coat worked loose 
 in crossing Toe River and the pocket-book had 
 gone down stream. The number of probabili- 
 ties was infinite, and each more plausible than 
 
66 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 the others as it occurred to us. We inquired 
 at every house we had passed on the way, we 
 questioned every one we met. At length it 
 began to seem improbable that any one would 
 remember if he had picked up a pocket-book 
 that morning. This is just the sort of thing 
 that slips an untrained memory. 
 
 At a post-office or doctor's shop, or inn for 
 drovers, it might be either or neither, where 
 several horses were tied to the fence, and a 
 group of men were tilted back in cane chairs 
 on the veranda, we unfolded our misfortune 
 and made particular inquiries for a man on a 
 sorrel horse. Yes, such a man, David Thomas 
 by name, had just ridden towards Bakersville. 
 If he had found the pocket-book, we would re- 
 cover it. He was an honest man. It might, 
 however, fall into hands that would freeze to 
 it. Upon consultation, it was the general ver- 
 dict that there were men in the county who 
 would keep it if they had picked it up. But 
 the assembly manifested the liveliest interest 
 in the incident. One suggested Toe River. 
 Another thought it risky to drop a purse on 
 any road. But there was a chorus of desire 
 expressed that we should find it, and in this 
 anxiety was exhibited a decided sensitiveness 
 about the honor of Mitchell County. It seemed 
 too bad that a stranger should go away with 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 67 
 
 the impression that it was not safe to leave 
 money anywhere in it. We felt very much 
 obliged for this genuine sympathy, and we told 
 them that if a pocket-book were lost in this 
 way on a Connecticut road, there would be felt 
 no neighborhood responsibility for it, and that 
 nobody would take any interest in the incident 
 except the man who lost, and the man who 
 found. 
 
 By the time the travelers pulled up at a 
 store in Bakersville they had lost all expecta- 
 tion of recovering the missing article, and were 
 discussing the investment cf more money in an 
 advertisement in the weekly newspaper of the 
 capital. The Professor, whose reform senti- 
 ments agreed with those of the newspaper, 
 advised it. There was a group of idlers, mica 
 acquaintances of the morning, and philoso- 
 phers in front of the store, and the Friend 
 opened the colloquy by asking if a man named 
 David Thomas had been seen in town. He 
 was in town, had ridden in within an hour, and 
 his brother, who was in the group, would go 
 in search of him. The information was then 
 given of the loss, and that the rider had met 
 David Thomas just before it was discovered, 
 on the mountain beyond the Toe. The news 
 made a sensation, and by the time David 
 Thomas appeared a crowd of a hundred had 
 
68 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 drawn around the horsemen eager for further 
 developments. Mr. Thomas was the least ex- 
 cited of the group as he took his position on 
 the sidewalk, conscious of the dignity of the 
 occasion and that he was about to begin a duel 
 in which both reputation and profit were con- 
 cerned. He recollected meeting the travelers 
 in the morning. 
 
 The Friend said, " I discovered that I had 
 lost my purse just after meeting you ; it may 
 have been dropped in Toe River, but I was 
 told back here that if David Thomas had 
 picked it up it was as safe as if it were in 
 the bank." 
 
 " What sort of a pocket-book was it ? " 
 asked Mr. Thomas. 
 
 " It was of crocodile skin, or what is sold 
 for that, very likely it is an imitation, and 
 about so large " — indicating the size. 
 
 "What had it in it?" 
 
 " Various things. Some specimens of mica ; 
 some bank checks , some money." 
 
 " Anything else ? " 
 
 " Yes, a photograph. And, oh, something 
 that I presume is not in another pocket-book 
 in North Carolina, — in an envelope, a lock of 
 the hair of George Washington, the Father of 
 his Country." Sensation, mixed with incredu- 
 lity. Washington's hair did seem such an odd 
 part of an outfit for a journey of this kind. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 69 
 
 " How much money was in it ? " 
 
 " That I cannot say, exactly. I happen to 
 remember four twenty dollar United States 
 notes, and a roll of small bills, perhaps some- 
 thing over a hundred dollars." 
 
 "Is that the pocket-book?" asked David 
 Thomas, slowly pulling the loved and lost out 
 of his trousers pocket. 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " You 'd be willing to take your oath on 
 it ? " 
 
 " I should be delighted to." 
 
 " Well, I guess there ain't so much money in 
 it. You can count it (handing it over) ; there 
 hain't been nothing taken out. I can't read, 
 but my friend here counted it over, and he 
 says there ain't as much as that." 
 
 Intense interest in the result of the counting. 
 One hundred and ten dollars ! The Friend se- 
 lected one of the best engraved of the notes, 
 and appealed to the crowd if they thought that 
 was the square thing to do. They did so think, 
 and David Thomas said it was abundant. And 
 then said the Friend : — 
 
 " I 'in exceedingly grateful to you besides. 
 Washington's hair is getting scarce, and I did 
 not want to lose these few hairs, gray as they 
 are. You 've done the honest thing, Mr. 
 Thomas, as was expected of you. You might 
 
70 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 have kept the whole. But I reckon if there 
 had been five hundred dollars in the book and 
 you had kept it, it would n't have done you 
 half as much good as giving it up has done ; 
 and your reputation as an honest man is worth 
 a good deal more than this pocket-book. [The 
 Professor was delighted with this sentiment, 
 because it reminded him of a Sunday-school. J 
 I shall go away with a high opinion of the hon- 
 esty of Mitchell County." 
 
 " Oh, he lives in Yancey," cried two or three 
 voices. At which there was a great laugh. 
 
 "Well, I wondered where he came from." 
 And the Mitchell County people laughed again 
 at their own expense, and the levee broke up. 
 It was exceedingl}' gratifying, as we spread the 
 news of the recovered property that afternoon 
 at every house on our way to the Toe, to see 
 what pleasure it gave. Every man appeared 
 to feel that the honor of the region had been 
 on trial and had stood the test. 
 
 The eighteen miles to Burnsville had now 
 to be added to the morning excursion, but the 
 travelers were in high spirits, feeling the truth 
 of the adage that it is better to have loved and 
 lost, than never to have lost at all. They de- 
 cided, on reflection, to join company with the 
 mail-rider, who was going to Burnsville by the 
 shorter route, and could pilot them over the 
 dangerous ford of the Toe. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 71 
 
 The mail-rider was a lean, sallow, sinewy 
 man, mounted on a sorry sorrel nag, who 
 proved, however, to have blood in her, and to 
 be a fast walker and full of endurance. The 
 mail-rider was taciturn, a natural habit for a 
 man who rides alone the year round, over s 
 lonely road, and has nothing whatever to think 
 of. He had been in the war sixteen months, 
 in Hugh White's regiment, — reckon you 've 
 heerd of him ? 
 
 " Confederate ? " 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 " Was he on the Union or Confederate 
 side?" 
 
 " Oh, Union." 
 
 " Were you in any engagements ? " 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 " Did you have any fighting ? " 
 
 " Not reg'lar." 
 
 " What did you do ? " 
 
 " Which ? " 
 
 "What did you do in Hugh White's regi- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " Oh, just cavorted round the mountains." 
 
 " You lived on the country ? " 
 
 " Which ? " 
 
 "Picked up what you could find, corn, bacon, 
 horses ? " 
 
 " That 's about so. Did n't make much dif- 
 
72 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 ference which side was round, the country got 
 cleaned out." 
 
 " Plunder seems to have been the object ? " 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 " You got a living out of the farmers ? " 
 
 » You bet." 
 
 Our friend and guide seemed to have been 
 a jayhawker and mountain marauder — on the 
 right side. His attachment to the word 
 " which " prevented any lively flow of con- 
 versation, and there seemed to be only two 
 trains of ideas running in his mind : one was 
 the subject of horses and saddles, and the 
 other was the danger of the ford we were com- 
 ing to, and he exhibited a good deal of inge- 
 nuity in endeavoring to excite our alarm. He 
 returned to the ford from every other conver- 
 sational excursion, and after every silence. " I 
 do' know 's there 's any great danger ; not if 
 you know the ford. Folks is carried away 
 there. The Toe gits up sudden. There 's 
 been right smart rain lately. If you 're afraid, 
 you can git set over in a dugout, and I '11 take 
 your horses across. Mebbe you 're used to 
 fording? It's a pretty bad ford for them as 
 don't know it. But you '11 get along, if you 
 mind your eye. There 's some rocks you '11 
 have to look out for. But you '11 be all right, 
 if you follow me." 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 73 
 
 Not being very successful in raising an in- 
 terest in the dangers of his ford, although he 
 could not forego indulging a malicious pleasure 
 in trying to make the strangers uncomfortable, 
 he finally turned his attention to a trade. 
 " This hoss of mine," he said, " is just the 
 kind of brute-beast you want for this country. 
 Your bosses is too heavy. How '11 you swap for 
 that one o' yourn ? " The reiterated assertion 
 that the horses were not ours, that they were 
 hired, made little impression on him. All the 
 way to Burnsville he kept referring to the sub- 
 ject of a trade. The instinct of " swap " was 
 strong in him. When we met a yoke of steers, 
 he turned round and bantered the owner for a 
 trade. Our saddles took his fancy. They were 
 of the army pattern, and he allowed that one 
 of them would just suit him. He rode a small 
 Ant English pad, across which was flung the 
 United States mail pouch, apparently empty. 
 He dwelt upon the fact that his saddle was 
 new and ours were old, and the advantages 
 that would accrue to us from the exchange. He 
 did n't care if they had been through the war, 
 as they had, for he fancied an army saddle. 
 The Friend answered for himself that the sad- 
 dle he rode belonged to a distinguished Union 
 general, and had a bullet in it that was put there 
 by a careless Confederate in the first battle of 
 
74 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 Bull Run, and the owner would not part with 
 it for money. But the mail-rider said he did n't 
 mind that. He would n't mind swapping his 
 new saddle for my old one and the rubber coat 
 and leggins. Long before we reached the ford 
 we thought we would like to swap the guide, 
 even at the risk of drowning. The ford was 
 passed, in due time, with no inconvenience save 
 that of wet feet, for the stream was breast high 
 to the horses ; but being broad and swift and 
 full of sunken rocks and slippery stones and 
 the crossing tortuous, it is not a ford to be com- 
 mended. There is a curious delusion that a 
 rider has in crossing a swift broad stream. It 
 is that he is rapidly drifting up stream, while 
 in fact the tendency of the horse is to go with 
 the current. 
 
 The road in the afternoon was not unpictu- 
 resque, owing to the streams and the ever noble 
 forests, but the prospect was always very lim- 
 ited. Agriculturally, the country was mostly 
 undeveloped. The travelers endeavored to get 
 from the rider an estimate of the price of land. 
 Not much sold, lie said. " There was one sale 
 of a big piece last year ; the owner enthorited 
 Big Tom Wilson to sell it, but I d' know what 
 he got for it." 
 
 All the way along the habitations were small 
 log cabins, with one room, chinked with mud, 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 75 
 
 and these were far between ; and only occasion- 
 ally thereby a similar log structure, unchinked, 
 laid up like a cob house, that served for a 
 stable. Not much cultivation, except now and 
 then a little patch of poor corn on a steep hill- 
 side, occasionally a few apple-trees, and a peach- 
 tree without fruit. Here and there was a house 
 that had been half finished and then abandoned, 
 or a shanty in which a couple of young married 
 people were just beginning life. Generally the 
 cabins (confirming the accuracy of the census 
 of 1880) swarmed with children, and nearly all 
 the women were thin and sickly. 
 
 In the day's ride we did not see a wheeled 
 vehicle, and onlynow and then a horse. We 
 met on the road small sleds, drawn by a steer, 
 sometimes by a cow, on which a bag of grist 
 was being hauled to the mill, and boys mounted 
 on steers gave us good evening with as much 
 pride as if they were bestriding fiery horses. 
 
 In a house of the better class, which was a 
 post-house, and where the rider and the woman 
 of the house had a long consultation over a 
 letter to be registered, we found the rooms 
 decorated with patent-medicine pictures, which 
 were often framed in strips of mica, an evi- 
 dence of culture that was worth noting. Mica 
 was the rage. Every one with whom we talked, 
 except the rider, had more or less the mineral 
 
76 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 fever. The impression was general that the 
 mountain region of North Carolina was enter- 
 ing upon a career of wonderful mineral develop- 
 ment, and the most extravagant expectations 
 were entertained. Mica was the shining object 
 of most " prospecting," but gold was also on 
 the cards. 
 
 The country about Burnsville is not only 
 mildly picturesque, but very pleasing. Burns- 
 ville, the county-seat of Yancey, at an eleva- 
 tion of 2840 feet, is more like a New England 
 village than any hitherto seen. Most of the 
 houses stand about a square, which contains the 
 shabby court-house ; around it are two small 
 churches, a jail, an inviting tavern, with a long 
 veranda, and a couple of stores. On an over- 
 looking hill is the seminary. Mica mining is 
 the exciting industry, but it is agriculturally a 
 good country. The tavern had recently been 
 enlarged to meet the new demands for enter- 
 tainment, and is a roomy structure, fresh with 
 paint and only partially organized. The trav- 
 elers were much impressed with the brilliant 
 chambers, the floors of which were painted in 
 alternate stripes of vivid green and red. The 
 proprietor, a very intelligent and enterprising 
 man, who had traveled often in the North, was 
 full of projects for the development of his re- 
 gion and foremost in its enterprises, and had 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 77 
 
 formed a considerable collection of minerals. 
 Besides, more than any one else we met, he 
 appreciated the beauty of his country, and took 
 us to a neighboring hill, where we had a view 
 of Table Mountain to the east and the nearer 
 giant Blacks. The elevation of Burnsville gives 
 it a delightful summer climate, the gentle un- 
 dulations of the country are agreeable, the views 
 noble, the air is good, and it is altogether a 
 "livable" and attractive place. With facilities 
 of communication, it would be a favorite sum- 
 mer resort. Its nearness to the great mountains 
 (the whole Black range is in Yancey County), 
 its fine pure air, its opportunity for fishing and 
 hunting, commend it to those in search of an 
 interesting and restful retreat in summer. 
 
 But it should be said that before the country 
 can attract and retain travelers, its inhabitants 
 must learn something about the preparation of 
 food. If, for instance, the landlord's wife at 
 Burnsville had traveled with her husband, her 
 table would probably have been more on a level 
 with his knowledge of the world, and. it would 
 have contained something that the wayfaring 
 man, though a Northerner, could eat. We have 
 been on the point several times in this journey 
 of making the observation, but have been re- 
 strained by a reluctance to touch upon politics, 
 that it was no wonder that a people with such 
 
78 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 a cuisine should have rebelled. The travelers 
 were in a rebellious mood most of the time. 
 
 The evidences of enterprise in this region 
 were pleasant to see, but the observers could 
 not but regret, after all, the intrusion of the 
 money-making spirit, which is certain to destroy 
 much of the present simplicitj'. It is as yet, 
 to a degree, tempered by a philosophic spirit. 
 The other guest of the house was a sedate, 
 long -bearded traveler for some Philadelphia 
 house, and in the evening he and the landlord 
 fell into a conversation upon what Socrates calls 
 the disadvantage of the pursuit of wealth to 
 the exclusion of all noble objects, and they let 
 their fancy play about Vanderbilt, who was 
 agreed to be the richest man in the world, or 
 that ever lived. 
 
 " All I want," said the long-bearded man, 
 " is enough to be comfortable. I would n't 
 have Vanderbilt's wealth if he 'd give it to me." 
 
 " Nor I," said the landlord. " Give me just 
 enough to be comfortable. [The tourist could 
 n't but note that his ideas of enough to be 
 comfortable had changed a good deal since he 
 had left his little farm and gone into the mica 
 business, and visited New York, and enlarged 
 and painted his tavern. J I should like to know 
 what more Vanderbilt gets out of his money 
 than I get out of mine. I heard tell of a young 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 79 
 
 man who went to Vanderbilt to get employ- 
 ment. Vanderbilt finally offered to give the 
 young man, if he would work for him, just 
 what he got himself. The young man jumped 
 at that — he 'd be perfectly satisfied with that 
 pay. And Vanderbilt said that all he got was 
 what he could eat and wear, and offered to give 
 the young man his board and clothes." 
 
 " I declare," said the long - bearded man. 
 " That 's just it. Did you ever see Vander- 
 bilt's house ? Neither did I, but I heard he 
 had a vault built in it five feet thick, solid. 
 He put in it two hundred millions of dollars, in 
 gold. After a year, he opened it and put in 
 twelve millions more, and called that a poor 
 year. They say his house has gold shutters 
 to the windows, so I 've heard." 
 
 " I should n't wonder," said the landlord. " I 
 heard he had one door in his house cost forty 
 thousand dollars. I don't know what it is 
 made of, unless it 's made of gold." 
 
 Sunday was a hot and quiet day. The stores 
 were closed and the two churches also, this not 
 being the Sunday for the itinerant preacher. 
 The jail also showed no sign of life, and when 
 we asked about it, we learned that it was 
 empty, and had been for some time. No liquor 
 is sold in the place, nor within at least three 
 miles of it. It is not much use to try to run a 
 jail without liquor. 
 
80 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 In the course of the morning a couple of 
 stout fellows arrived, leading between them a 
 young man whom they had arrested, — it did 
 n't appear on any warrant, but they wanted 
 to get him committed and locked up. The of- 
 fense charged was carrying a pistol ; the boy 
 had not used it against anybody, but he had 
 flourished it about and threatened, and the 
 neighbors would n't stand that ; they were 
 bound to enforce the law against carrying con- 
 cealed weapons. 
 
 The captors were perfectly good-natured and 
 on friendly enough terms with the young man, 
 who offered no resistance, and seemed not un- 
 willing to go to jail. But a practical difficulty 
 arose. The jail was locked up, the sheriff had 
 gone away into the country with the key, and 
 no one could get in. It did not appear that 
 there was any provision for boarding the man 
 in jail ; no one in fact kept it. The sheriff was 
 sent for, but was not to be found, and the 
 prisoner and his captors loafed about the square ■ 
 all day, sitting on the fence, rolling on the 
 grass, all of them sustained by a simple trust 
 that the jail would be open some time. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we left them there, try- 
 ing to get into the jail. But we took a per- 
 sonal leaf out of this experience. Our Virginia 
 friends, solicitous for our safety in this wild 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 81 
 
 country, had urged us not to venture into it 
 without arms — take at least, they insisted, a 
 revolver each. And now we had to congratu- 
 late ourselves that we had not done so. If we 
 had, we should doubtless on that Sunday have 
 been waiting, with the other law-breaker, for 
 admission into the Yancey County jail. 
 
ni. 
 
 Fkom Burnsville the next point in our route 
 was Asheville, the most considerable city in 
 western North Carolina, a resort of fashion, and 
 the capital of Buncombe County. It is distant 
 some forty to forty-five miles, too long a jour- 
 ney for one day over such roads. The easier 
 and common route is by the Ford of Big Ivy, 
 eighteen miles, — the first stopping place ; and 
 that was a long ride for the late afternoon 
 when we were in condition to move. 
 
 The landlord suggested that we take another 
 route, stay that night on Caney River with Big 
 Tom Wilson, only eight miles from Burnsville, 
 cross Mt. Mitchell, and go down the valley of 
 the Swannanoa to Asheville. He represented 
 this route as shorter and infinitely more pictu- 
 resque. There was nothing worth seeing on the 
 Big Ivy way. With scarcely a moment's re- 
 flection, and while the horses were saddling, we 
 decided to ride to Big Tom Wilson's. I could 
 not at the time understand, and I cannot now, 
 why the Professor consented. I should hardly 
 dare yet confess to my fixed purpose to ascend 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 83 
 
 Mt. Mitchell. It was equally fixed in the Pro- 
 fessor's mind not to do it. We had not dis- 
 cussed it much. But it is safe to say that if he 
 had one well defined purpose on this trip, it 
 was not to climb Mitchell. " Not," as he put 
 it,- 
 
 " Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul 
 Of the wide world dreaming on things to come," 
 
 had suggested the possibility that he could 
 do it. 
 
 But at the moment the easiest thing to do 
 seemed to be to ride down to Wilson's. When 
 there we could turn across country to the Big 
 Ivy, although, said the landlord, you can ride 
 over Mitchell just as easy as anywhere — a 
 lady rode plump over the peak of it last week, 
 and never got off her horse. You are not 
 obliged to go ; at Big Tom's, you can go any 
 way you please. 
 
 Besides, Big Tom himself weighed in the 
 scale more than Mt. Mitchell, and not to see 
 him was to miss one of the most characteristic 
 productions of the country, the typical back- 
 woodsman, hunter, guide. So we rode down 
 Boiling Creek, through a pretty, broken coun- 
 try, crossed the Caney River, and followed it 
 up a few miles to Wilson's plantation. There 
 are little intervales along the river, where hay 
 is cut and corn grown, but the region is not 
 
84 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 much cleared, and the stock browse about in 
 the forest. Wilson is the agent of the New 
 York owner of a tract of some thirteen thou- 
 sand acres of forest, including the greater por- 
 tion of Mt. Mitchell, a wilderness well stocked 
 with bears and deer, and full of streams 
 abounding in trout. It is also the playground 
 of the rattlesnake. With all these attractions 
 Big Tom's life is made lively in watching game 
 poachers, and endeavoring to keep out the for- 
 aging cattle of the few neighbors. It is not 
 that the cattle do much injury in the forest, 
 but the looking after them is made a pretense 
 for roaming around, and the roamers are liable 
 to have to defend themselves against the deer, 
 or their curiosity is excited about the bears, 
 and lately they have taken to exploding powder 
 in the streams to kill the fish. 
 
 Big Tom's plantation has an open-work sta- 
 ble, an ill-put-together frame house, with two 
 rooms and a kitchen, and a veranda in front, 
 a loft, and a spring-house in the rear. Chick- 
 ens and other animals have free run of the 
 premises. Some fish-rods hung in the porch, 
 and hunter's gear depended on hooks in the 
 passage-way to the kitchen. In one room were 
 three beds, in the other two, only one in the 
 kitchen. On the porch was a loom, with a 
 piece of cloth in process. The establishment 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 85 
 
 had the air of taking care of itself. Neither 
 Big Tom nor his wife were at home. Sunday 
 seemed to be a visiting day, and the travelers 
 had met many parties on horseback. Mrs. 
 Wilson was away for a visit of a day or two. 
 One of the sons, who was lounging on the ve- 
 randa, was at last induced to put up the horses ; 
 a very old woman, who mumbled and glared at 
 the visitors, was found in the kitchen, but no 
 intelligible response could be got out of her. 
 Presently a bright little girl, the housekeeper 
 in charge, appeared. She said that her Paw 
 had gone up to her brother's (her brother was 
 just married and lived up the river in the 
 house where Mr. Murchison stayed when he 
 was here) to see if he could ketch a bear that 
 had been rootin' round in the corn-field the 
 night before. She expected him back by sun- 
 down — by dark any way. 'Les he 'd gone 
 after the bear, and then you could n't tell when 
 he would come. 
 
 It appeared that Big Tom was a thriving 
 man in the matter of family. More boys ap- 
 peared. Only one was married, but four had 
 "got their time." As night approached, and 
 no Wilson, there was a good deal of lively 
 and loud conversation about the stock and the 
 chores, in all of which the girl took a leading 
 and intelligent part, showing a willingness to 
 
86 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 do her share, but not to have all the work put 
 upon her. It was time to go down the road 
 and hunt up the cows ; the mule had disap- 
 peared and must be found before dark; a couple 
 of steers had n't turned up since the day before 
 yesterday, and in the midst of the gentle con- 
 tention as to whose business all this was, there 
 was an alarm of cattle in the corn-patch, and 
 the girl started off on a run in that direction. 
 It was due to the executive ability of this 
 small girl, after the cows had been milked and 
 the mule chased and the boys properly stirred 
 up, that we had supper. It was of the oil- 
 cloth, iron fork, tin spoon, bacon, hot bread and 
 honey variety, distinguished, however, from all 
 meals we had endured or enjoyed before by 
 the introduction of fried eggs (as the breakfast 
 next morning was by the presence of chicken), 
 and it was served by the active maid with right 
 hearty good will and genuine hospitable intent. 
 While it was in progress, after nine o'clock, 
 Big Tom arrived, and, with a simple greeting, 
 sat down and attacked the supper and began to 
 tell about the bear. There was not much to 
 tell except that he had n't seen the bear, and 
 that, judged by his tracks and his sloshing 
 around, he must be a big one. But a trap had 
 been set for him, and he judged it would n't 
 be long before we had some bear meat. Big 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 87 
 
 Tom Wilson, as he is known all over this part 
 of the State, would not attract attention from 
 his size. He is six feet and two inches tall, 
 very spare and muscular, with sandy hair, 
 long gray beard, and honest blue eyes. He 
 has a reputation for great strength and endur- 
 ance ; a man of native simplicity and mild 
 manners. He had been rather expecting us 
 from what Mr. Murchison wrote ; he wrote 
 (his son had read out the letter) that Big Tom 
 was to take good care of us, and anybody that 
 Mr. Murchison sent could have the best he 'd 
 got. 
 
 Big Tom joined us in our room after supper. 
 This apartment, with two mighty feather beds, 
 was hung about with all manner of stuffy 
 family clothes, and had in one end a vast 
 cavern for a fire. The floor was uneven, and 
 the hearthstones billowy. When the fire was 
 lighted, the effect of the bright light in the 
 cavern and the heavy shadows in the room was 
 Rembrandtish. Big Tom sat with us before 
 the fire and told bear stories. Talk? Why, 
 it was not the least effort. The stream flowed 
 on without a ripple. " Why, the old man," one 
 of the sons confided to us next morning, " can 
 begin and talk right over Mt. Mitchell and all 
 the way back, and never make a break." 
 Though Big Tom had waged a lifelong warfare 
 
88 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 with the bears, and taken the hide off at least a 
 hundred of them, I could not see that he had 
 any vindictive feeling towards the varmint, but 
 simply an insatiable love of killing him, and he 
 regarded him in that half humorous light in 
 which the bear always appears to those who 
 study him. As to deer — he could n't tell how 
 many of them he had slain. But Big Tom 
 was a gentle man, he never killed deer for 
 mere sport. With rattlesnakes, now, it was 
 different. There was the skin of one hanging 
 upon a tree by the route we would take in the 
 morning, a buster, he skinned him yesterday. 
 There was an entire absence of braggadocio in 
 Big Tom's talk, but somehow, as he went on, 
 his backwoods figure loomed larger and larger 
 in our imagination, and he seemed strangely 
 familiar. At length it came over us where 
 we had met him before. It was in Cooper's 
 novels. He was the Leather-Stocking exactly. 
 And yet he was an original ; for he assured us 
 that he had never read the Leather-Stocking 
 Tales. What a figure, I was thinking, he must 
 have made in the late war ! Such a shot, such 
 a splendid physique, such iron endurance ! I 
 almost dreaded to hear his tales of the havoc 
 he had wrought on the Union army. Yes, he 
 was in the war, he was sixteen months in the 
 Confederate army, this Homeric man. In what 
 rank ? " Oh, I was a fifer ! " 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 89 
 
 But hunting and war did not by any means 
 occupy the whole of Big Tom's life. He was 
 also engaged in " lawin'." He had a long time 
 feud with a neighbor about a piece of land and 
 alleged trespass, and they 'd been " lawin' " for 
 years, with no definite result ; but as a topic of 
 conversation it was as fully illustrative of fron- 
 tier life as the bear-fighting. 
 
 Long after we had all gone to bed, we heard 
 Big Tom's continuous voice, through the thin 
 partition that separated us from the kitchen, 
 going on to his little boy about the bear ; every 
 circumstance of how he tracked him, and what 
 corner of the field he entered, and where he 
 went out, and his probable size and age, and 
 the prospect of his coming again ; these were 
 the details of real every-day life, and worthy to 
 be dwelt on by the hour. The boy was never 
 tired of pursuing them. And Big Tom was 
 just a big boy also in his delight in it all. 
 
 Perhaps it was the fascination of Big Tom, 
 perhaps the representation that we were al- 
 ready way off the Big Ivy route, and that it 
 would in fact save time to go over the moun- 
 tain, and we could ride all the way, that made 
 the Professor acquiesce, with no protest worth 
 noticing, in the preparations that went on, as 
 by a natural assumption, for going over Mitch- 
 ell. At any rate, there was an early breakfast, 
 
90 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 luncheon was put up, and by half past seven 
 we were riding up the Caney — a half-cloudy 
 day — Big Tom swinging along on foot ahead, 
 talking nineteen to the dozen. There was a 
 delightful freshness in the air, the dew-laden 
 bushes, and the smell of the forest. In half an 
 hour we called at the hunting shanty of Mr. 
 Murchison, wrote our names on the wall, ac- 
 cording to custom, and regretted that we could 
 not stay for a day in that retreat, and try the 
 speckled trout. Making our way through the 
 low growth and bushes of the valley, we came 
 into a fine open forest, watered by a noisy 
 brook, and after an hour's easy going reached 
 the serious ascent. 
 
 From Wilson's to the peak of Mitchell it is 
 seven and a half miles ; we made it in five and 
 a half hours. A bridle path was cut years ago, 
 but it has been entirely neglected. It is badly 
 washed, it is stony, muddy, and great trees have 
 fallen across it which wholly block the way 
 for horses. At these places long detours were 
 necessary, on steep hillsides and through gul- 
 lies, over treacherous sink-holes in the rocks, 
 through quaggy places, heaps of brush, and 
 rotten logs. Those who have ever attempted 
 to get horses over such ground will not wonder 
 at the slow progress we made. Before we were 
 half-way up the ascent, we realized the folly of 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 91 
 
 attempting it on horseback ; but then to go on 
 seemed as easy as to go back. The way also 
 was exceedingly steep in places, and what with 
 roots, and logs, and slippery rocks and stones, 
 it was a desperate climb for the horses. 
 
 What a magnificent forest ! Oaks, chest- 
 nuts, poplars, hemlocks, the cucumber (a spe- 
 cies of magnolia, with a pinkish, cucumber-like 
 cone), and all sorts of northern and southern 
 growths meeting here in splendid array. And 
 this gigantic forest, with little diminution in 
 size of trees, continued two thirds of the way 
 up. We marked, as we went on, the maple, 
 the black walnut, the buckeye, the hickory, the 
 locust, and the guide pointed out in one sec- 
 tion the largest cherry-trees we had ever seen ; 
 splendid trunks, each worth a large sum if it 
 could be got to market. After the great trees 
 were left behind, we entered a garden of white 
 birches, and then a plateau of swamp, thick 
 with raspberry bushes, and finally the ridges, 
 densely crowded with the funereal black bal- 
 sam. 
 
 Half-way up, Big Tom showed us his favor- 
 ite, the biggest tree he knew. It was a poplar, 
 or tulip. It stands more like a column than a 
 tree, rising high into the air, with scarcely a 
 perceptible taper, perhaps sixty, more likely 
 a hundred, feet before it puts out a limb. Its 
 
92 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 girth six feet from the ground is thirty-two 
 feet ! I think it might be called Big Tom. It 
 stood here, of course, a giant, when Columbus 
 sailed from Spain, and perhaps some sentimen- 
 tal traveler will attach the name of Columbus 
 to it. 
 
 In the woods there was not much sign of 
 animal life, scarcely the note of a bird, but we 
 noticed as we rode along in the otherwise pri- 
 meval silence a loud and continuous humming 
 overhead, almost like the sound of the wind in 
 pine tops. It was the humming of bees ! The 
 upper branches were alive with these indus- 
 trious toilers, and Big Tom was always on the 
 alert to discover and mark a bee-gum, which 
 he could visit afterwards. Honey hunting is 
 one of his occupations. Collecting spruce gum 
 is another, and he was continually hacking off 
 with his hatchet knobs of the translucent se- 
 cretion. How rich and fragrant are these for- 
 ests I The rhododendron was still in occasional 
 bloom, and flowers of brilliant hue gleamed 
 here and there. 
 
 The struggle was more severe as we neared 
 the summit, and the footing worse for the 
 horses. Occasionally it was safest to dis- 
 mount and lead them up slippery ascents ; but 
 this was also dangerous, for it was difficult to 
 keep them from treading on our heels, in their 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 93 
 
 frantic flounderings, in the steep, wet, narrow, 
 brier-grown path. At one uncommonly pok- 
 erish place, where the wet rock sloped into a 
 bog, the rider of Jack thought it prudent to dis- 
 mount, but big Tom insisted that Jack would 
 " make it " all right, only give him his head. 
 The rider gave him his head, and the next min- 
 ute Jack's four heels were in the air, and he 
 came down on his side in a flash. The rider 
 fortunately extricated his leg without losing it, 
 Jack scrambled out with a broken shoe, and the 
 two limped along. It was a wonder that the 
 horses' legs were not broken a dozen times. 
 
 As we approached the top, Big Tom pointed 
 out the direction, a half mile away, of a small 
 pond, a little mountain tarn, overlooked by a 
 ledge of rock, where Professor Mitchell lost his 
 life. Big Tom was the guide that found his 
 body. That day as we sat on the summit he 
 gave in great detail the story, the general out- 
 line of which is well known. 
 
 The first effort to measure the height of the 
 Black Mountains was made in 1835, by Pro- 
 fessor Elisha Mitchell, professor of mathemat- 
 ics and chemistry in the University of North 
 Carolina at Chapel Hill. Mr. Mitchell was a 
 native of Connecticut, born in Washington, 
 Litchfield County, in 1793 ; graduated at Yale, 
 ordained a Presbyterian minister, and was for 
 
94 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 a time state surveyor ; and became a professor 
 at Chapel Hill in 1818. He first ascertained 
 and published the fact that the Black Moun- 
 tains are the highest land east of the Rocky 
 Mountains. In 1844 he visited the locality 
 again. Measurements were subsequently made 
 by Professor Guyot and by Senator Clingman. 
 One of the peaks was named for the senator 
 (the one next in height to Mitchell is described 
 as Clingman on the state map), and a dispute 
 arose as to whether Mitchell had really visited 
 and measured the highest peak. Senator Cling- 
 man still maintains that he did not, and that 
 the peak now known as Mitchell is the one 
 that Clingman first described. The estimates 
 of altitudes made by the three explorers named 
 differed considerably. The height now fixed 
 for Mt. Mitchell is 6711; that of Mt. Wash- 
 ington is 6285. There are twelve peaks in 
 this range higher than Mt. Washington, and if 
 we add those in the Great Smoky Mountains 
 which overtop it, there are some twenty in this 
 State higher than the granite giant of New 
 Hampshire. 
 
 In order to verify his statement, Professor 
 Mitchell (then in his sixty-fourth year) made 
 a third ascent in June, 1857. He was alone, 
 and went up from the Swannanoa side. He 
 did not return. No anxiety was felt for two 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 95 
 
 or three days, as he was a good mountaineer, 
 and it was supposed he had crossed the moun- 
 tain and made his way out by the Caney River. 
 But when several days passed without tidings 
 of him, a search party was formed. Big Tom 
 Wilson was with it. They explored the moun- 
 tain in all directions unsuccessfully. At length 
 Big Tom separated himself from his compan- 
 ions and took a course in accordance with his 
 notion of that which would be pursued by a 
 man lost in the clouds or the darkness. He 
 soon struck the trail of the wanderer, and, fol- 
 lowing it, discovered Mitchell's body lying in 
 a pool at the foot of a rocky precipice some 
 thirty feet high. It was evident that Mitchell, 
 making his way along the ridge in darkness or 
 fog, had fallen off. It was the ninth (or the 
 eleventh) day of his disappearance, but in the 
 pure mountain air the body had suffered no 
 change. Big Tom brought his companions to 
 the place, and on consultation it was decided 
 to leave the body undisturbed till Mitchell's 
 friends could be present. There was some 
 talk of burying him on the mountain, but the 
 friends decided otherwise, and the remains, 
 with much difficulty, were got down to Ashe- 
 ville and there interred. 
 
 Some years afterwards, I believe at the in- 
 stance of a society of scientists, it was resolved 
 
96 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 to transport the body to the summit of Mt. 
 Mitchell ; for the tragic death of the explorer 
 had forever settled in the popular mind the 
 name of the mountain. The task was not easy. 
 A road had to be cut, over which a sledge 
 could be hauled, and the hardy mountaineers 
 who undertook the removal were three days 
 in reaching the summit with their burden. 
 The remains were accompanied by a consider- 
 able concourse, and the last rites on the top 
 were participated in by a hundred or more sci- 
 entists and prominent men from different parts 
 of the State. Such a strange cortege had 
 never before broken the silence of this lonely 
 wilderness, nor was ever burial more impres- 
 sive than this wild interment above the clouds. 
 
 We had been preceded in our climb all the 
 way by a huge bear. That he was huge, a 
 lunker, a monstrous old varmint, Big Tom 
 knew by the size of his tracks ; that he was 
 making the ascent that morning ahead of us, 
 Big Tom knew by the freshness of the trail. 
 We might come upon him at any moment, he 
 might be in the garden, was quite likely to be 
 found in the raspberry patch. That we did 
 not encounter him I am convinced was not 
 the fault of Big Tom, but of the bear. 
 
 After a struggle of five hours we emerged 
 from the balsams and briers into a lovely open 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 97 
 
 meadow, of lush clover, timothy, and blue 
 grass. We unsaddled the horses and turned 
 them loose to feed in it. The meadow sloped 
 up to a belt of balsams and firs, a steep rocky 
 knob, and climbing that on foot we stood upon 
 the summit of Mitchell at one o'clock. We 
 were none too soon, for already the clouds 
 were preparing for what appears to be a daily 
 storm at this season. 
 
 The summit is a nearly level spot of some 
 thirty or forty feet in extent either way, with 
 a floor of rock and loose stones. The stunted 
 balsams have been cut away so as to give a 
 view. The sweep of prospect is vast, and we 
 could see the whole horizon except in the 
 direction of Roan, whose long bulk was envel- 
 oped in cloud. Portions of six States were 
 in sight, we were told, but that is merely a 
 geographical expression. What we saw, wher- 
 ever we looked, was an inextricable tumble of 
 mountains, without order or leading line of di- 
 rection, — domes, peaks, ridges, endless and 
 countless, everywhere, some in shadow, some 
 tipped with shafts of sunlight, all wooded and 
 green or black, and all in more softened con- 
 tours than our Northern hills, but still wild, 
 lonesome, terrible. Away in the southwest, 
 lifting themselves up in a gleam of the west- 
 ern sky, the Great Smoky Mountains loomed 
 
98 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 like a frowning continental fortress, sullen and 
 remote. With Clingman and Gibbs and Hold- 
 back peaks near at hand and apparently of 
 equal height, Mitchell seemed only a part and 
 not separate from the mighty congregation of 
 giants. 
 
 In the centre of the stony plot on the sum- 
 mit lie the remains of Mitchell. To dig a 
 grave in the rock was impracticable, but the 
 loose stones were scooped away to the depth 
 of a foot or so, the body was deposited, and 
 the stones were replaced over it. It was the 
 original intention to erect a monument, but 
 the enterprise of the projectors of this royal 
 entombment failed at that point. The grave 
 is surrounded by a low wall of loose stones, to 
 which each visitor adds one, and in the course 
 of ages the cairn may grow to a good size. 
 The explorer lies there without name or head- 
 stone to mark his awful resting-place. The 
 mountain is his monument. He is alone with 
 its majesty. He is there in the clouds, in the 
 tempests, where the lightnings play, and thun- 
 ders leap, amid the elemental tumult, in the 
 occasional great calm and silence and the pale 
 sunlight. It is the most majestic, the most 
 lonesome grave on earth. 
 
 As we sat there, awed a little by this pres- 
 ence, the clouds were gathering from various 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 99 
 
 quarters and drifting towards us. We could 
 watch the process of thunderstorms and the 
 manufacture of tempests. I have often noticed 
 on other high mountains how the clouds, form- 
 ing like genii released from the earth, mount 
 into the upper air, and in masses of torn frag- 
 ments of mist hurry across the sky as to a ren- 
 dezvous of witches. This was a different dis- 
 play. These clouds came slowly sailing from 
 the distant horizon, like ships on an aerial 
 voyage. Some were below us, some on our 
 level ; they were all in well-defined, distinct 
 masses, molten silver on deck, below trailing 
 rain, and attended on earth by gigantic shad- 
 ows that moved with them. This strange fleet 
 of battle-ships, drifted by the shifting currents, 
 was manoeuvring for an engagement. One 
 after another, as they came into range about 
 our peak of observation, they opened fire. 
 Sharp flashes of lightning darted from one to 
 the other ; a jet of flame from one leaped 
 across the interval and was buried in the bosom 
 of its adversary ; and at every discharge the 
 boom of great guns echoed through the moun- 
 tains. It was something more than a royal 
 salute to the tomb of the mortal at our feet, 
 for the masses of cloud were rent in the fray, 
 at every discharge the rain was precipitated 
 in increasing torrents, and soon the vast hulks 
 
100 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 were trailing torn fragments and wreaths of 
 mist, like the shot-away shrouds and sails of 
 ships in battle. Gradually, from this long 
 range practice with single guns and exchange 
 of broadsides, they drifted into closer conflict, 
 rushed together, and we lost sight of the in- 
 dividual combatants in the general tumult of 
 this aerial war. 
 
 We had barely twenty minutes for our ob- 
 servations, when it was time to go, and had 
 scarcely left the peak when the clouds envel- 
 oped it. We hastened down under the threat- 
 ening sky to the saddles and the luncheon. 
 Just off from the summit, amid the rocks, is 
 a complete arbor, or tunnel, of rhododendrons. 
 This cavernous place a Western writer has 
 made the scene of a desperate encounter be- 
 tween Big Tom and a catamount, or American 
 panther, which had been caught in a trap and 
 dragged it there, pursued by Wilson. It is an 
 exceedingly graphic narrative, and is enlivened 
 by the statement that Big Tom had the night 
 before drunk up all the whiskey of the party 
 which had spent the night on the summit. 
 Now Big Tom assured us that the whiskey 
 part of the story was an invention ; he was 
 not (which is true) in the habit of using it ; 
 if he ever did take any it might be a drop on 
 Mitchell ; in fact, when he inquired if we had 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 101 
 
 a flask, he remarked that a taste of it would do 
 him good then and there. We regretted the 
 lack of it in our baggage. But what inclined 
 Big Tom to discredit the Western writer's 
 story altogether was the fact that he never in 
 his life had had a difficulty with a catamount, 
 and never had seen one in these mountains. 
 
 Our lunch was eaten in haste. Big Tom re- 
 fused the chicken he had provided for us, and 
 strengthened himself with slices of raw salt 
 pork, which he cut from a hunk with his clasp- 
 knife. We caught and saddled our horses, who 
 were reluctant to leave the rich feed, enveloped 
 ourselves in waterproofs, and got into the stony 
 path for the descent just as the torrent came 
 down. It did rain. It lightened, the thunder 
 crashed, the wind howled and twisted the tree- 
 tops. It was as if we were pursued by the 
 avenging spirits of the mountains for our in- 
 trusion. Such a tempest on this height had its 
 terrors even for our hardy guide. He preferred 
 to be lower down while it was going on. The 
 crash and reverberation of the thunder did not 
 trouble us so much as the swish of the wet 
 branches in our faces and the horrible road, 
 with its mud, tripping roots, loose stones, and 
 slippery rocks. Progress was slow. The horses 
 were in momentary danger of breaking their 
 legs. For the first hour there was not much 
 
102 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 descent. In the clouds we were passing over 
 Clingman, Gibbs, and Holdback. The rain 
 had ceased, but the mist still shut off all view, 
 if any had been attainable, and bushes and 
 path were deluged. The descent was more un- 
 comfortable than the ascent, and we were com- 
 pelled a good deal of the way to lead the jaded 
 horses down the slippery rocks. 
 
 From the peak to the Widow Patten's, where 
 we proposed to pass the night, is twelve miles, 
 a distance we rode or scrambled down, every 
 step of the road bad, in five and a half hours. 
 Half-way down we came out upon a cleared 
 place, a farm, with fruit-trees and a house in 
 ruins. Here had been a summer hotel, much 
 resorted to before the war, but now abandoned. 
 Above it we turned aside for the view from 
 Elizabeth rock, named from the daughter of 
 the proprietor of the hotel, who often sat here, 
 said Big Tom, before she went out of this 
 world. It is a bold rocky ledge, and the view 
 from it, looking south, is unquestionably the 
 finest, the most pleasing and picture-like, we 
 found in these mountains. In the foreground 
 is the deep gorge of a branch of the Swan- 
 nanoa, and opposite is the great wall of the 
 Blue Ridge (the Blue Ridge is the most capri- 
 cious and inexplicable system) making off to 
 the Blacks. The depth of the gorge, the sweep 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 103 
 
 of the sky line, and the reposeful aspect of the 
 scene to the sunny south made this view both 
 grand and charming. Nature does not always 
 put the needed dash of poetry into her exten- 
 sive prospects. 
 
 Leaving this clearing and the now neglected 
 spring, where fashion used to slake its thirst, 
 we zigzagged down the mountain side through 
 a forest of trees growing at every step larger 
 and nobler, and at length struck a small 
 stream, the North Fork of the Swannanoa, 
 which led us to the first settlement. Just at 
 night, — it was nearly seven o'clock, — we 
 entered one of the most stately forests I have 
 ever seen, and rode for some distance in an 
 alley of rhododendrons that arched overhead 
 and made a bower. It was like an aisle in a 
 temple ; high overhead was the sombre, leafy 
 roof, supported by gigantic columns. Few wid- 
 ows have such an avenue of approach to their 
 domain as the Widow Patten has. 
 
 Cheering as this outcome was from the day's 
 struggle and storm, the Professor seemed sunk 
 in a profound sadness. The auguries which 
 the Friend drew from these signs of civilization 
 of a charming inn and a royal supper did not 
 lighten the melancholy of his mind. " Alas," 
 he said, — 
 
104 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 " Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day, 
 And make me travel forth without my cloak, 
 To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, 
 Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke ? 
 'T is not enough that through the cloud thou break, 
 To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face, 
 For no man well of such a salve can speak 
 That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace : 
 Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief : 
 Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss." 
 
 " Loss of what ? " cried the Friend, as he 
 whipped up his halting steed. 
 
 " Loss of self-respect. I feel humiliated that 
 I consented to climb this mountain." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You '11 live to thank me for 
 it, as the best thing you ever did. It 's over 
 and done now, and you 've got it to tell your 
 friends." 
 
 " That 's just the trouble. They '11 ask me 
 if I went up Mitchell, and I shall have to say 
 I did. My character for consistency is gone. 
 Not that I care much what they think, but my 
 own self-respect is gone. I never believed I 
 would do it. A man can't afford to lower him- 
 self in his own esteem, at my time of life." 
 
 The Widow Patten's was only an advanced 
 settlement in this narrow valley on the moun- 
 tain side, but a little group of buildings, a 
 fence, and a gate gave it the air of a place, 
 and it had once been better cared for than it is 
 now. Few travelers pass that way, and the art 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 105 
 
 of entertaining, if it ever existed, is fallen into 
 desuetude. We unsaddled at the veranda, and 
 sat down to review our adventure, make the 
 acquaintance of the family, and hear the last 
 story from Big Tom. The mountaineer, though 
 wet, was as fresh as a daisy, and fatigue in no 
 wise checked the easy, cheerful flow of his talk. 
 He was evidently a favorite with his neighbors, 
 and not unpleasantly conscious of the extent of 
 his reputation. But he encountered here an- 
 other social grade. The Widow Patten was 
 highly connected. We were not long in dis- 
 covering that she was an Alexander. She had 
 been a schoolmate of Senator Vance — " Zeb 
 Vance " he still was to her — and the senator 
 and his wife had stayed at her house. I wish 
 I could say that the supper, for which we 
 waited till nine o'clock, was as " highly con- 
 nected " as the landlady. It was, however, a 
 supper that left its memory. We were lodged 
 in a detached house, which we had to ourselves, 
 where a roaring wood fire made amends for 
 other things lacking. It was necessary to close 
 the doors to keep out the wandering cows and 
 pigs, and I am bound to say that, notwithstand- 
 ing the voices of the night, we slept there the 
 sleep of peace. 
 
 In the morning a genuine surprise awaited 
 us ; it seemed impossible, but the breakfast 
 
106 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 was many degrees worse than the supper ; and 
 when we paid our bill, large for the region, we 
 were consoled by the thought that we paid for 
 the high connection as well as for the accom- 
 modations. This is a regular place of enter- 
 tainment, and one is at liberty to praise it 
 without violation of delicacy. 
 
 The broken shoe of Jack required attention, 
 and we were all the morning hunting a black- 
 smith, as we rode down the valley. Three 
 blacksmith's shanties were found, and after 
 long waiting to send for the operator it turned 
 out in each case that he had no shoes, no nails, 
 no iron to make either of. We made a detour 
 of three miles to what was represented as a 
 regular shop. The owner had secured the ser- 
 vice of a colored blacksmith for a special job, 
 and was not inclined to accommodate us; he 
 had no shoes, no nails. But the colored black- 
 smith, who appreciated the plight we were in, 
 offered to make a shoe, and to crib four nails 
 from those he had laid aside for a couple of 
 mules ; and after a good deal of delay, we were 
 enabled to go on. The incident shows, as well 
 as anything, the barrenness and shiftlessness of 
 the region. A horseman with whom we rode 
 in the morning gave us a very low estimate of 
 the trustworthiness of the inhabitants. The 
 valley is wild and very pretty all the way down 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 107 
 
 to Colonel Long's, — twelve miles, — but the 
 wretched-looking people along the way live in 
 a wretched manner. 
 
 Just before reaching Colonel Long's we 
 forded the stream (here of good size), the 
 bridge having tumbled down, and encountered 
 a party of picnickers under the trees — signs 
 of civilization ; a railway station is not far off. 
 Colonel Long's is a typical Southern establish- 
 ment : a white house, or rather three houses, 
 all of one story, built on to each other as bee- 
 hives are set in a row, all porches and galleries. 
 No one at home but the cook, a rotund, broad- 
 faced woman, with a merry eye, whose very ap- 
 pearance suggested good cooking and hospital- 
 ity; the Missis and the children had gone up 
 to the river fishing ; the Colonel was some- 
 where about the place ; always was away when 
 he was wanted. Guess he 'd take us in, — 
 mighty fine man the Colonel ; and she dis- 
 patched a child from a cabin in the rear to 
 hunt him up. The Colonel was a great friend 
 of her folks down to Greenville ; they visited 
 here. Law, no, she did n't live here. Was 
 just up here spending the summer, for her 
 health. God-forsaken lot of people up here, 
 poor trash. She would n't stay here a day, 
 but the Colonel was a friend of her folks, the 
 firstest folks in Greenville. Nobody round here 
 
108 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 she could 'sociate with. She was a Presby- 
 terian, the folks round here mostly Baptists 
 and Methodists. More style about the Presby- 
 terians. Married? No, she hoped not. She 
 did n't want to support no husband. Got 'nuff 
 to do to take care of herself. That her little 
 girl ? No ; she 'd only got one child, down to 
 Greenville, just the prettiest boy ever was, as 
 white as anybody. How did she what ? recon- 
 cile this state of things with not being married 
 and being a Presbyterian ? Sho ! she liked to 
 carry some religion along ; it was mighty handy 
 occasionally, mebbe not all the time. Yes, in- 
 deed, she enjoyed her religion. 
 
 The Colonel appeared and gave us a most 
 cordial welcome. The fat and merry cook 
 blustered around and prepared a good dinner, 
 memorable for its "light" bread, the first we 
 had seen since Cranberry Forge. The Colonel 
 is in some sense a public man, having been a 
 mail agent, and a Republican. He showed us 
 photographs and engravings of Northern pol- 
 iticians, and had the air of a man who had 
 been in Washington. This was a fine country 
 for any kind of fruit, — apples, grapes, pears ; 
 it needed a little Northern enterprise to set 
 things going. The travelers were indebted to 
 the Colonel for a delightful noonday rest, and 
 with regret declined his pressing invitation to 
 pas3 the night with him. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 109 
 
 The ride down the Swannanoa to Asheville 
 was pleasant, through a cultivated region, over 
 a good road. The Swannanoa is, however, a 
 turbid stream. In order to obtain the most 
 impressive view of Asheville we approached it 
 by the way of Beaucatcher Hill, a sharp eleva- 
 tion a mile west of the town. I suppose the 
 name is a corruption of some descriptive French 
 word, but it has long been a favorite resort 
 of the frequenters of Asheville, and it may 
 be traditional that it is a good place to catch 
 beaux. The summit is occupied by a hand- 
 some private residence, and from this ridge, the 
 view, which has the merit of "bursting" upon 
 the traveler as he comes over the hill, is capti- 
 vating in its extent and variety. The pretty 
 town of Asheville is seen to cover a number of 
 elevations gently rising out of the valley, and 
 the valley, a rich agricultural region, well wa- 
 tered and fruitful, is completely inclosed by 
 picturesque hills, some of them rising to the 
 dignity of mountains. The most conspicuous of 
 these is Mt. Pisgah, eighteen miles distant to 
 the southwest, a pyramid of the Balsam range, 
 5757 feet high. Mt. Pisgah, from its shape, is 
 the most attractive mountain in this region. 
 
 The sunset light was falling upon the splen- 
 did panorama and softening it. The windows 
 of the town gleamed as if on fire. From the 
 
110 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 steep slope below came the mingled sounds of 
 children shouting, cattle driven home, and all 
 that hum of life that marks a thickly peopled 
 region preparing for the night. It was the 
 leisure hour of an August afternoon, and Ashe- 
 ville was in all its watering-place gayety, as we 
 reined up at the Swannanoa hotel. A band 
 was playing on the balcony. We had reached 
 ice-water, barbers, waiters, civilization. 
 
IV. 
 
 Asheville, delightful for situation, on small 
 hills that rise above the French Broad below 
 its confluence with the Swannanoa, is a sort 
 of fourteenth cousin to Saratoga. It has no 
 springs, but lying 2250 feet above the sea and 
 in a lovely valley, mountain girt, it has pure 
 atmosphere and an equable climate ; and being 
 both a summer and winter resort it has ac- 
 quired a watering-place air. There are South- 
 erners who declare that it is too hot in sum- 
 mer, and that the complete circuit of mountains 
 shuts out any lively movement of air. But 
 the scenery is so charming and noble, the 
 drives are so varied, the roads so unusually 
 passable for a Southern country, and the facili- 
 ties for excursions so good, that Asheville is a 
 favorite resort. 
 
 Architecturally the place is not remarkable, 
 but its surface is so irregular, there are so many 
 acclivities and deep valleys, that improvements 
 can never obliterate that it is perforce pictu- 
 resque. It is interesting also, if not pleasing, 
 in its contrasts — the enterprise of taste and 
 
112 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 money-making struggling with the laissez faire 
 of the South. The negro, I suppose, must be 
 regarded as a conservative element ; he has not 
 much inclination to change his clothes or his 
 cabin, and his swarming presence gives a 
 ragged aspect to the new civilization. And 
 to say the truth, the new element of Southern 
 smartness lacks the trim thrift the North is 
 familiar with ; though the visitor who needs 
 relaxation is not disposed to quarrel with the 
 easy-going terms on which life is taken. 
 
 Asheville, it is needless to say, appeared very 
 gay and stimulating to the riders from the wil- 
 derness. The Professor, who does not even 
 pretend to patronize Nature, had his revenge 
 as we strolled about the streets (there is but 
 one of much consideration) immensely enter- 
 tained by the picturesque contrasts. There 
 were more life and amusement here in five 
 minutes, he declared, than in five days of what 
 people called scenery — the present rage for 
 scenery, any way, being only a fashion and a 
 modern invention. The Friend suspected from 
 this penchant for the city that the Professor 
 must have been brought up in the country. 
 
 There was a kind of predetermined and will- 
 ful gayety about Asheville, however, that is 
 apt to be present in a watering-place, and gave 
 to it the melancholy tone that is always pres- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 113 
 
 ent in gay places. We fancied that the lively 
 movement in the streets had an air of unreal- 
 ity. A band of musicians on the balcony of 
 the Swannanoa were scraping and tooting and 
 twanging with a hired air, and on the opposite 
 balcony of the Eagle a rival band echoed and 
 redoubled the perfunctory joyousness. The 
 gayety was contagious : the horses felt it ; 
 those that carried light burdens of beauty 
 minced and pranced, the pony in the dog-cart 
 was inclined to dash, the few passing equipages 
 had an air of pleasure ; and the people of color, 
 the comely waitress and the slouching corner- 
 loafer, responded to the animation of the fes- 
 tive strains. In the late afternoon the streets 
 were full of people, wagons, carriages, horse- 
 men, all with a holiday air, dashed with Afri- 
 can color and humor — the irresponsibility of 
 the most insouciant and humorous race in the 
 world, perhaps more comical than humorous ; 
 a mixture of recent civilization and rudeness, 
 peculiar and amusing ; a happy coming to- 
 gether, it seemed, of Southern abandon and 
 Northern wealth, though the North was little 
 represented at this season. 
 
 As evening came on, the streets, though 
 wanting gas, were still more animated ; the 
 shops were open, some very good ones, and the 
 white and black throng increasing, especially 
 
114 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 the black, for the negro is preeminently a night 
 bird. In the hotels dancing was promised, the 
 German was announced; on the galleries and 
 in the corridors were groups of young people, a 
 little loud in manner and voice, — the young 
 gentleman, with his over-elaborate manner to 
 ladies in bowing and hat-lifting, and the bloom- 
 ing girls from the lesser Southern cities, with 
 the slight provincial note and yet with the 
 frank and engaging cordiality which is as 
 charming as it is characteristic. I do not know 
 what led the Professor to query if the South- 
 ern young women were not superior to the 
 Southern young men, but he is always asking 
 questions nobody can answer. At the Swan- 
 nanoa were half a dozen bridal couples, readily 
 recognizable by the perfect air they had of hav- 
 ing been married a long time. How interest- 
 ing such young voyagers are, and how interest- 
 ing they are to each other. Columbus never 
 discovered such a large world as they have to 
 find out and possess each in the other. 
 
 Among the attractions of the evening it was 
 difficult to choose. There was a lawn-party 
 advertised at Battery Point (where a fine hotel 
 has since been built), and we walked up to 
 that round knob after dark. It is a hill with 
 a grove, which commands a charming view, and 
 was fortified during the war. We found it illu- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 115 
 
 minated with Chinese lanterns, and little tables 
 set about under the trees, laden with cake 
 and ice-cream, offered a chance to the stran- 
 ger to contribute money for the benefit of the 
 Presbyterian Church. I am afraid it was not 
 a profitable entertainment, for the men seemed 
 to have business elsewhere, but the ladies 
 about the tables made charming groups in the 
 lighted grove. [Man is a stupid animal at best, 
 or he would not make it so difficult for the 
 womenkind to scrape together a little money 
 for charitable purposes.j But probably the 
 women like this method of raising money bet- 
 ter than the direct one. 
 
 The evening gayety of the town was well 
 distributed. When we descended to the Court- 
 House Square, a great crowd had collected, 
 black, white, and yellow, about a high plat- 
 form, upon which four glaring torches lighted 
 up the novel scene, and those who could read 
 might decipher this legend on a standard at 
 the back of the stage : — 
 
 HAPPY JOHN. 
 
 ONE OF THE SLAVES OF WADE HAMPTON. 
 
 COME AND SEE HIM ! 
 
 Happy John, who occupied the platform 
 with Mary, a " bright " yellow girl, took the 
 comical view of his race, which was greatly en- 
 
116 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 joyed by his audience. His face was blackened 
 to the proper color of the stage -darky, and 
 he wore a flaming suit of calico, the trousers 
 and coat striped longitudinally according to 
 Punch's idea of " Uncle Sam," the coat a swal- 
 low-tail bound and faced with scarlet, and a 
 bell-crowned white hat. This conceit of a col- 
 ored Yankee seemed to tickle all colors in the 
 audience amazingly. Mary, the " bright " wo- 
 man (this is the universal designation of the 
 light mulatto), was a pleasing but bold yellow 
 girl, who wore a natty cap trimmed with scar- 
 let, and had the assured or pert manner of all 
 traveling sawdust performers. 
 
 " Oh, yes," exclaimed a bright woman in 
 the crowd, " Happy John was sure enough one 
 of Wade Hampton's slaves, and he 's right 
 good looking when he 's not blackened up." 
 
 Happy John sustained the promise of his 
 name, by spontaneous gayety and enjoyment 
 of the fleeting moment ; he had a glib tongue 
 and a ready, rude wit, and talked to his audi- 
 ence with a delicious mingling of impudence, 
 deference, and patronage, commenting upon 
 them generally, administering advice and cor- 
 rection in a strain of humor that kept his hear- 
 ers in a pleased excitement. He handled the 
 banjo and the guitar alternately, and talked 
 all the time when he was not singing. Mary 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 117 
 
 (how much harder featured and brazen a wo- 
 man is in such a position than a man of the 
 same calibre!) sang, in an untutored treble, 
 songs of sentiment, often risquS, in solo and 
 in company with John, but with a cold, indif- 
 ferent air, in contrast to the rollicking enjoy- 
 ment of her comrade. The favorite song, which 
 the crowd compelled her to repeat, touched 
 lightly the uncertainties of love, expressed in 
 the falsetto pathetic refrain : — 
 
 " Mary 's gone away wid de coon." 
 All this, with the moon, the soft summer night, 
 the mixed crowd of darkies and whites, the 
 stump eloquence of Happy John, the singing, 
 the laughter, the flaring torches, made a wild 
 scene. The entertainment was quite free, with 
 a "collection " occasionally during the perform- 
 ance. 
 
 What most impressed us, however, was the 
 turning to account by Happy John of the 
 " nigger " side of the black man as a means of 
 low comedy, and the enjoyment of it by all the 
 people of color. They appeared to appreciate 
 as highly as anybody the comic element in 
 themselves, and Happy John had emphasized 
 it by deepening his natural color and exagger- 
 ating the " nigger " peculiarities. I presume 
 none of them analyzed the nature of his infec- 
 tious gayety, nor thought of the pathos that 
 
118 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 lay so close to it, in the fact of his recent slav- 
 ery, and the distinction of being one of Wade 
 Hampton's niggers, and the melancholy mirth 
 of this light-hearted race's burlesque of itself. 
 
 A performance followed which called forth 
 the appreciation of the crowd more than the 
 wit of Happy John or the faded songs of the 
 yellow girl. John took two sweet-cakes and 
 broke each in fine pieces into a saucer, and after 
 sugaring and eulogizing the dry messes, called 
 for two small darky volunteers from the audi- 
 ence to come up on the platform and devour 
 them. He offered a prize of fifteen cents to the 
 one who should first eat the contents of his 
 dish, not using his hands, and hold up the sau- 
 cer empty in token of his victory. The cake 
 was tempting, and the fifteen cents irresisti- 
 ble, and a couple of boys in ragged shirts and 
 short trousers and a suspender apiece came up 
 shamefacedly to enter for the prize. Each 
 one grasped his saucer in both hands, and with 
 face over the dish awaited the word " go," 
 which John gave and started off the contest 
 with a banjo accompaniment. To pick up 
 with the mouth the dry cake and choke it 
 down was not so easy as the boys apprehended, 
 but they went into the task with all their 
 might, gobbling and swallowing as if they 
 loved cake, occasionally rolling an eye to the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 119 
 
 saucer of the contestant to see the relative 
 progress, John strumming, ironically encour- 
 aging, and the crowd roaring. As the combat 
 deepened and the contestants strangled and 
 stuffed and sputtered, the crowd went into 
 spasms of laughter. The smallest boy won by 
 a few seconds, holding up his empty saucer, 
 with mouth stuffed, vigorously trying to swal- 
 low, like a chicken with his throat clogged 
 with dry meal, and utterly unable to speak. 
 The impartial John praised the victor in mock 
 heroics, but said that the trial was so even 
 that he would divide the prize, ten cents to one 
 and five to the other — a stroke of justice that 
 greatly increased his popularity. And then he 
 dismissed the assembly, saying that he had 
 promised the mayor to do so early, because he 
 did not wish to run an opposition to the polit- 
 ical meeting going on in the court-house. 
 
 The scene in the large court-room was less 
 animated than that outdoors ; a half dozen tal- 
 low dips, hung on the wall in sconces and stuck 
 on the judge's long desk, feebly illuminated the 
 mixed crowd of black and white who sat in, 
 and on the backs of, the benches, and cast only 
 a fitful light upon the orator, who paced back 
 and forth and pounded the rail. It was to 
 have been a joint discussion between the two 
 presidential electors running in that district, 
 
120 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 but the Republican being absent his place was 
 taken by a young man of the town. The Dem- 
 ocratic orator took advantage of the absence 
 of his opponent to describe the discussion of 
 the night before, and to give a portrait of his 
 adversary. He was represented as a cross be- 
 tween a baboon and a jackass, who would be 
 a natural curiosity for Barnum. " I intend," 
 said the orator, " to put him in a cage and ex- 
 hibit him about the deestrict." This political 
 hit called forth great applause. All his argu- 
 ments were of this pointed character, and they 
 appeared to be unanswerable. The orator ap- 
 peared to prove that there was n't a respectable 
 man in the opposite party who was n't an office- 
 holder, nor a white man of any kind in it who 
 was not an office-holder. If there were any 
 issues or principles in the canvass, he paid his 
 audience the compliment of knowing all about 
 them, for he never alluded to any. In another 
 state of society, such a speech of personalities 
 might have led to subsequent shootings, but no 
 doubt his adversary would pay him in the same 
 coin when next they met, and the exhibition 
 seemed to be regarded down here as satisfac- 
 tory and enlightened political canvassing for 
 votes. The speaker who replied opened his 
 address with a noble tribute to woman (as the 
 first speaker had ended his), directed to a 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 121 
 
 dozen of that sex who sat in the gloom of a 
 corner. The young man was moderate in his 
 sarcasm, and attempted to speak of national 
 issues, but the crowd had small relish for that 
 sort of thing. At eleven o'clock, when we got 
 away from the unsavory room (more than half 
 the candles had gone out), the orator was mak- 
 ing slow headway against the relished black- 
 guardism of the evening. The German was 
 still " on " at the hotel when we ascended to 
 our chamber, satisfied that Asheville was a 
 lively town. 
 
 The sojourner at Asheville can amuse him- 
 self very well by walking or driving to the 
 many picturesque points of view about the 
 town ; livery stables abound, and the roads are 
 good. The Beaucatcher Hill is always attrac- 
 tive ; and Connolty's, a private place a couple 
 of miles from town, is ideally situated, being on 
 a slight elevation in the valley commanding the 
 entire circuit of mountains, for it has the air 
 of repose which so seldom is experienced in 
 the location of a dwelling in America whence 
 an extensive prospect is given. Or if the vis- 
 itor is disinclined to exertion, he may lounge in 
 the rooms of the hospitable Asheville Club ; or 
 he may sit on the sidewalk in front of the 
 hotels, and talk with the colonels and judges 
 and generals and ex-members of Congress, the 
 
122 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 talk generally drifting to the new commercial 
 and industrial life of the South, and only to 
 politics as it affects these ; and he will be 
 pleased, if the conversation takes a reminiscent 
 turn, with the lack of bitterness and the tone 
 of friendliness. The negro problem is com- 
 monly discussed philosophically and without 
 heat, but there is always discovered, under- 
 neath, the determination that the negro shall 
 never again get the legislative upper hand. 
 And the gentleman from South Carolina who 
 has an upland farm, and is heartily glad slav- 
 ery is gone, and wants the negro educated, 
 when it comes to ascendency in politics — such 
 as the State once experienced — asks you what 
 you would do yourself. This is not the place 
 to enter upon the politico-social question, but 
 the writer may note one impression gathered 
 from much friendly and agreeable conversation. 
 It is that the Southern whites misapprehend 
 and make a scarecrow of " social equality." 
 When, during the war, it was a question at 
 the North of giving the colored people of the 
 Northern States the ballot, the argument 
 against it used to be stated in the form of a 
 question, " Do you want your daughter to 
 marry a negro ? " Well, the negro has his po- 
 litical rights in the North, and there has come 
 no change in the social conditions whatever. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 123 
 
 And there is no doubt that the social condi- 
 tions would remain exactly as they are at the 
 South if the negro enjoyed all the civil rights 
 which the Constitution tries to give him. The 
 most sensible view of this whole question was 
 taken by an intelligent colored man, whose 
 brother was formerly a representative in Con- 
 gress. " Social equality," he said in effect, " is 
 a humbug. We do not expect it, we do not 
 want it. It does not exist among the blacks 
 themselves. We have our own social degrees, 
 and choose our own associates. We simply 
 want the ordinary civil rights, under which we 
 can live and make our way in peace and amity. 
 This is necessary to our self-respect, and if we 
 have not self-respect, it is not to be supposed 
 that the race can improve. I '11 tell you what 
 I mean. My wife is a modest, intelligent wo- 
 man, of good manners, and she is always neat, 
 and tastefully dressed. Now, if she goes to 
 take the cars, she is not permitted to go into 
 a clean car with decent people, but is or- 
 dered into one that is repellant, and is forced 
 into company that any refined woman would 
 shrink from. But along comes a flauntingly- 
 dressed woman, of known disreputable charac- 
 ter, whom my wife would be disgraced to 
 know, and she takes any place that money 
 will buy. It is this sort of thing that hurts." 
 
124 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 We took the eastern train one evening to 
 Round Nob (Henry's Station), some thirty- 
 miles, in order to see the -wonderful railway- 
 that descends, a distance of eight miles, from 
 the summit of Swannanoa Gap (2657 feet ele- 
 vation) to Round Nob hotel (1607 feet). The 
 Swannanoa Summit is the dividing line be- 
 tween the waters that flow to the Atlantic and 
 those that go to the Gulf of Mexico. This fact 
 was impressed upon us by the inhabitants, who 
 derive a good deal of comfort from it. Such 
 divides are always matter of local pride. Un- 
 fortunately, perhaps, it was too dark before we 
 reached Henry's to enable us to see the road in 
 all its loops and parallels as it appears on the 
 map, but we gained a better effect. The hotel, 
 when we first sighted it, all its windows blazing 
 with light, was at the bottom of a well. Be- 
 side it — it was sufficiently light to see that — 
 a column of water sprang straight into the air 
 to the height, as we learned afterwards from 
 two official sources, of 225 and 265 feet; and 
 the information was added that it is the highest 
 fountain in the world. This stout column, stiff 
 as a flagstaff, with its feathery head of mist 
 gleaming like silver in the failing light, had 
 the most charming effect. We passed out of 
 sight of hotel and fountain, but were conscious 
 of being whirled on a circular descending 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 125 
 
 grade, and very soon they were in sight again. 
 Again and again they disappeared and came 
 to view, now on one side and now on the other, 
 until our train seemed to be bewitched, making 
 frantic efforts by dodgings and turnings, now 
 through tunnels and now over high pieces of 
 trestle, to escape the inevitable attraction that 
 was gravitating it down to the hospitable lights 
 at the bottom of the well. When we climbed 
 back up the road in the morning we had an 
 opportunity to see the marvelous engineering, 
 but there is little else to see, the view being 
 nearly always very limited. 
 
 The hotel at the bottom of the ravine, on 
 the side of Round Nob, offers little in the way 
 of prospect, but it is a picturesque place, and 
 we could understand why it was full of visitors 
 when we came to the table. It was probably 
 the best -kept house of entertainment in the 
 State, and being in the midst of the Black 
 Hills it offers good chances for fishing and 
 mountain climbing. 
 
 In the morning the fountain, which is of 
 course artificial, refused to play, the rain in the 
 night having washed in debris which clogged 
 the conduit. But it soon freed itself and sent 
 up for a long time, like a sulky geyser, mud 
 and foul water. When it got freedom and 
 tolerable clearness, we noted that the water 
 
126 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 went up in pulsations, which were marked at 
 short distances by the water falling off, giving 
 the column the appearance of a spine. The 
 summit, always beating the air in efforts to rise 
 higher, fell over in a veil of mist. 
 
 There are certain excursions that the so- 
 journer at Asheville must make. He must ride 
 forty-five miles south through Henderson and 
 Transylvania to Caesar's Head, on the South 
 Carolina border, where the mountain system 
 abruptly breaks down into the vast Southern 
 plain ; where the observer, standing on the 
 edge of the precipice, has behind him and be- 
 fore him the greatest contrast that nature can 
 offer. He must also take the rail to Waynes- 
 ville, and visit the much frequented White Sul- 
 phur Springs, among the Balsam Mountains, 
 and penetrate the Great Smoky range by way 
 of Quallatown, and make the acquaintance of 
 the remnant of CherokelT Indians living on the 
 north slope of Cheoah Mountain. The Pro- 
 fessor could have made it a matter of personal 
 merit that he escaped all these encounters with 
 wild and picturesque nature, if his horse had 
 not been too disabled for such long jaunts. It 
 is only necessary, however, to explain to the 
 public that the travelers are not gormandizers 
 of scenery, and were willing to leave some por- 
 tions of the State to the curiosity of future 
 excursionists. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 127 
 
 But so much was said about Hickory Nut 
 Gap that a visit to it could not be evaded. 
 The Gap is about twenty-four miles southeast 
 of Asheville. In the opinion of a well-informed 
 colonel, who urged us to make the trip, it is 
 the finest piece of sceneiy in this region. We 
 were brought up on the precept, " get the 
 best," and it was with high anticipations that 
 we set out about eleven o'clock one warm, 
 foggy morning. We followed a very good road 
 through a broken, pleasant country, gradually 
 growing wilder and less cultivated. There was 
 heavy rain most of the day on the hills, and 
 occasionally a shower swept across our path. 
 The conspicuous object toward which we trav- 
 eled all the morning was a shapely conical hill 
 at the beginning of the Gap. 
 
 At three o'clock we stopped at the Widow 
 Sherrill's for dinner. Her house, only about a 
 mile from the summit, is most picturesquely 
 situated on a rough slope, giving a wide valley 
 and mountain view. The house is old, ram- 
 bling, many-roomed, with wide galleries on two 
 side s. If one wanted a retired retreat for a few 
 days, witli good air and fair entertainment, this 
 could be commended. It is an excellent fruit 
 region ; apples especially are sound and of good 
 flavor. That may be said of all this part of 
 the State. The climate is adapted to apples, 
 
128 ON BORBEBACK. 
 
 as the hilly part of New England is. I fancy 
 the fruit ripens slowly, as it does in New Eng- 
 land, and is not subject to quick decay like 
 much of that grown in the West. But the 
 grape can also be grown in all this mountain 
 region. Nothing but lack of enterprise pre- 
 vents any farmer from enjoying abundance of 
 fruit. The industry carried on at the moment 
 at the Widow Sherrill's was the artificial dry- 
 ing of apples for the market. The apples are 
 pared, cored, and sliced in spirals, by machin- 
 ery, and dried on tin sheets in a patented ma- 
 chine. The industry appears to be a profitable 
 one hereabouts, and is about the only one that 
 calls in the aid of invention. 
 
 While our dinner was preparing we studied 
 the well-known pictures of " Jane " and " Eliza," 
 the photographs of Confederate boys who had 
 never returned from the war, and the relations, 
 whom the traveling photographers always like 
 to pillory in melancholy couples, and some stray 
 volumes of the Sunday School Union. Madame 
 Sherrill, who carries on the farm since the 
 death of her husband, is a woman of strong and 
 liberal mind, who informed us that she got 
 small comfort in the churches in the neighbor- 
 hood, and gave us, in fact, a discouraging ac- 
 count of the unvital piety of the region. 
 
 The descent from the summit of the Gap to 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 129 
 
 Judge Logan's, nine miles, is rapid, and the 
 road is wild and occasionally picturesque, fol- 
 lowing the Broad River, a small stream when 
 we first overtook it, but roaring, rocky, and 
 muddy, owing to frequent rains, and now and 
 then tumbling down in rapids. The noisy 
 stream made the ride animated, and an occa- 
 sional cabin, a poor farmhouse, a mill, a school- 
 house, a store with an assemblage of lean horses 
 tied to the hitching rails, gave the Professor 
 opportunity for remarks upon the value of life 
 under such circumstances. 
 
 The valley which we followed down probably 
 owes its celebrity to the uncommon phenomena 
 of occasional naked rocks and precipices. The 
 inclosing mountains are from 3000 to 4000 feet 
 high, and generally wooded. I do not think 
 that the ravine would be famous in a country 
 where exposed ledges and buttressing walls of 
 rock are common. It is only by comparison 
 with the local scenery that this is remarkable. 
 About a mile above Judge Logan's we caught 
 sight, through the trees, of the famous water- 
 fall. From the top of the high ridge on the 
 right, a nearly perpendicular cascade pours 
 over the ledge of rocks and is lost in the forest. 
 We could see nearly the whole of it, at a great 
 height above us, on the opposite side of the 
 river, and it would require an hour's stiff climb 
 
130 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 to reach its foot. From where we viewed it, it 
 seemed a slender and not very important, but 
 certainly a very beautiful cascade, a band of 
 silver in the mass of green foliage. The fall 
 is said to be 1400 feet. Our colonel insists 
 that it is a thousand. It may be, but the valley 
 where we stood is at least at an elevation of 
 1300 feet ; we could not believe that the ridge 
 over which the water pours is much higher than 
 3000 feet, and the length of the fall certainly 
 did not appear to be a quarter of the height of 
 the mountain from our point of observation. But 
 we had no desire to belittle this pretty cascade, 
 especially when we found that Judge Logan 
 would regard a foot abated from the 1400 as a 
 personal grievance. Mr. Logan once performed 
 the functions of local judge, a Republican ap- 
 pointment, and he sits around the premises 
 now in the enjoyment of that past dignity and 
 of the fact that his wife is postmistress. His 
 house of entertainment is at the bottom of the 
 valley, a place shut in, warm, damp, and not 
 inviting to a long stay, although the region 
 boasts a good many natural curiosities. 
 
 It was here that we encountered -again the 
 political current, out of which we had been for 
 a month. The Judge himself was reticent, as 
 became a public man, but he had conspicuously 
 posted up a monster prospectus, sent out from 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 131 
 
 Augusta, of a campaign life of Blaine and Lo- 
 gan, in which the Professor read, with shaking 
 knees, this sentence : " Sure to be the great- 
 est and hottest [campaign and civil battle] 
 ever known in this world. The thunder of the 
 supreme struggle and its reverberations will 
 shake the continents for months, and will be 
 felt from Pole to Pole." 
 
 For this and other reasons this seemed a 
 risky place to be in. There was something 
 sinister about the murky atmosphere, and a 
 suspicion of mosquitoes besides. Had there 
 not been other travelers staying here, we 
 should have felt still more uneasy. The house 
 faced Bald Mountain, 4000 feet high, a hill 
 that had a very bad reputation some years ago, 
 and was visited by newspaper reporters. This 
 is in fact the famous Shaking Mountain. For 
 a long time it had a habit of trembling, as if in 
 an earthquake spasm, but with a shivering mo- 
 tion very different from that produced by an 
 earthquake. The only good that came of it 
 was that it frightened all the "moonshiners," 
 and caused them to join the church. It is 
 not reported what became of the church after- 
 wards. It is believed now that the trembling 
 was caused by the cracking of a great ledge on 
 the mountain, which slowly parted asunder. 
 Bald Mountain is the scene of Mrs. Burnett's 
 
132 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 delightful story of Louisiana, and of the play 
 of Esmeralda. A rock is pointed out toward 
 the summit, which the beholder is asked to see 
 resembles a hut, and which is called " Esme- 
 ralda's Cottage." But this attractive maiden 
 has departed, and we did not discover any wo- 
 man in the region who remotely answers to her 
 description. 
 
 In the morning we rode a mile and a half 
 through the woods and followed up a small 
 stream to see the celebrated pools, one of which 
 the Judge said was two hundred feet deep and 
 another bottomless. These pools, not round, 
 but on one side circular excavations, some 
 twenty feet across, worn in the rock by peb- 
 bles, are very good specimens, and perhaps re- 
 markable specimens, of " pot-holes." They are, 
 however, regarded here as one of the wonders 
 of the world. On the way to them we saw 
 beautiful wild trumpet-creepers in blossom, 
 festooning the trees. 
 
 The stream that originates in Hickory Nut 
 Gap is the westernmost branch of several 
 forks of the Broad, which unite to the south- 
 east in Rutherford County, flow to Columbia, 
 and reach the Atlantic through the channel of 
 the Santee. It is not to be confounded with 
 the French Broad, which originates among the 
 hills of Transylvania, runs northward past 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 133 
 
 Asheville, and finds its way to the Tennessee 
 through the Warm Springs Gap in the Bald 
 Mountains. As the French claimed ownership 
 of all the affluents of the Mississippi, this lat- 
 ter was called the French Broad. 
 
 It was a great relief the next morning, on 
 our return, to rise out of the lifeless atmos- 
 phere of the Gap into the invigorating air at 
 the Widow Sherrill's, whose country-seat is 
 three hundred feet higher than Asheville. It 
 was a day of heavy showers, and apparently of 
 leisure to the scattered population ; at every 
 store and mill was a congregation of loafers, 
 who had hitched their scrawny horses and 
 mules to the fences, and had the professional 
 air of the idler and gossip the world over. The 
 vehicles met on the road were a variety of the 
 prairie schooner, long wagons with a top of 
 hoops over which is stretched a cotton cloth. 
 The wagons are without seats, and the canvas 
 is too low to admit of sitting upright, if there 
 were. The occupants crawl in at either end, 
 sit or lie on the bottom of the wagon, and jolt 
 along in shiftless uncomfortableness. 
 
 Riding down the French Broad was one of 
 the original objects of our journey. Travelers 
 with the same intention may be warned that 
 the route on horseback is impracticable. The 
 distance to the Warm Springs is thirty-seven 
 
134 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 miles; to Marshall, more than half-way, the 
 road is clear, as it runs on the opposite side of 
 the river from the railway, and the valley is 
 something more than river and rails. But be- 
 low Marshall, the valley contracts, and the rails 
 are laid a good portion of the way in the old 
 stage road. One can walk the track, but to 
 ride a horse over its sleepers and culverts and 
 occasional bridges, and dodge the trains, is nei- 
 ther safe nor agreeable. We sent our horses 
 round, — the messenger taking the risk of lead- 
 ing them, between trains, over the last six or 
 eight miles, — and took the train. 
 
 The railway, after crossing a mile or two of 
 meadows, hugs the river all the way. The 
 scenery is the reverse of bold. The hills are 
 low, monotonous in form, and the stream winds 
 through them, with many a pretty turn and 
 "reach," with scarcely a ribbon of room to 
 spare on either side. The river is shallow, 
 rapid, stony, muddy, full of rocks, with an oc- 
 casional little island covered with low bushes. 
 The rock seems to be a clay formation, rotten 
 and colored. As we approach Warm Springs 
 the scenery becomes a little bolder, and we 
 emerge into the open space about the Springs 
 through a narrower defile, guarded by rocks 
 that are really picturesque in color and splin- 
 tered decay, one of them being known, of course, 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 135 
 
 as the " Lover's Leap," a name common in 
 every part of the modern or ancient world 
 where there is a settlement near a precipice, 
 with always the same legend attached to it. 
 
 There is a little village at Warm Springs, 
 but the hotel — since burned and rebuilt — 
 (which may be briefly described as a palatial 
 shanty) stands by itself close to the i - iver, 
 which is here a deep, rapid, turbid stream. A 
 bridge once connected it with the road on the 
 opposite bank, but it was carried away three or 
 four years ago, and its ragged hutments stand 
 as a monument of procrastination, while the 
 stream is crossed by means of a flat-boat and 
 a cable. In front of the hotel, on the slight 
 slope to the river, is a meagre grove of locusts. 
 The famous spring, close to the stream, is 
 marked only by a rough box of wood and an 
 iron pipe, and the water, which has a tempera- 
 ture of about one hundred degrees, runs to a 
 shabby bath-house below, in which is a pool 
 for bathing. The bath is very agreeable, the 
 tepid water being singularly soft and pleasant. 
 It has a slightly sulphurous taste. Its good 
 effects are much certified. The grounds, 
 which might be very pretty with care, are ill- 
 kept and slatternly, strewn with de'bris, as if 
 everything was left to the easy-going nature of 
 the servants. The main house is of brick, with 
 
136 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 verandas and galleries all round, and a colon- 
 nade of thirteen huge brick and stucco columns^ 
 in honor of the thirteen States, a relic of post- 
 Revolutionary times, when the house was the 
 resort of Southern fashion and romance. These 
 columns have stood through one fire, and per- 
 haps the recent one, which swept away the rest 
 of the structure. The house is extended in a 
 long wooden edifice, with galleries and outside 
 stairs, the whole front being nearly seven hun- 
 dred feet long. In a rear building is a vast, 
 barrack-like dining-room, with a noble ball- 
 room above, for dancing is the important occu- 
 pation of visitors. 
 
 The situation is very pretty, and the estab- 
 lishment has a picturesqueness of its own. 
 Even the ugly little brick structure near the 
 bath-house imposes upon one as Wade Hamp- 
 ton's cottage. No doubt we liked the place 
 better than if it had been smart, and enjoyed 
 the neglige condition, and the easy terms on 
 which life is taken there. There was a sense 
 of abundance in the sight of fowls tiptoeing 
 about the verandas, and to meet a chicken in 
 the parlor was a sort of guarantee that we 
 should meet him later on in the dining-room. 
 There was nothing incongruous in the presence 
 of pigs, turkeys, and chickens on the grounds ; 
 they went along with the good-natured negro- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 137 
 
 service and the general hospitality ; and we had 
 a mental rest in the thought that all the gates 
 would have been off the hinges, if there had 
 been any gates. The guests were very well 
 treated indeed, and were put under no sort 
 of restraint by discipline. The long colonnade 
 made an admirable promenade and lounging- 
 place and point of observation. It was interest- 
 ing to watch the groups under the locusts, to 
 see the management of the ferry, the mounting 
 and dismounting of the riding-parties, and to 
 study the colors on the steep hill opposite, half- 
 way up which was a neat cottage and flower- 
 garden. The type of people was very pleasant- 
 ly Southern. Colonels and politicians stand in 
 groups and tell stories, which are followed by 
 explosions of laughter ; retire occasionally into 
 the saloon, and come forth reminded of more 
 stories, and all lift their hats elaborately and 
 suspend the narratives when a lady goes past. 
 A company of soldiers from Richmond had 
 pitched its tents near the hotel, and in the 
 evening the ball-room was enlivened with uni- 
 forms. Among the graceful dancers — and 
 every one danced well, and with spirit — was 
 pointed out the young widow of a son of 
 Andrew Johnson, whose pretty cottage over- 
 looks the village. But the Professor, to whom 
 this information was communicated, doubted 
 
138 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 whether here it was not a greater distinction 
 to be the daughter of the owner of this region 
 than to be connected with a President of the 
 United States. 
 
 A certain ait - of romance and tradition hangs 
 about the French Broad and the Warm Springs, 
 which, the visitor must possess himself of in 
 order to appreciate either. This was the great 
 highway of trade and travel. At certain sea- 
 sons there was an almost continuous procession 
 of herds of cattle and sheep passing to the 
 Eastern markets, and of trains of big wagons 
 wending their way to the inviting lands watered 
 by the Tennessee. Here came in the summer 
 time the Southern planters in coach and four, 
 with a great retinue of household servants, and 
 kept up for months that unique social life, a 
 mixture of courtly ceremony and entire free- 
 dom, — the civilization which had the draw- 
 ing-room at one end and the negro-quarters at 
 the other, — which has passed away. It was a 
 continuation into our own restless era of the 
 manners and the literature of George the Third, 
 with the accompanying humor and happy-go- 
 lucky decadence of the negro slaves. On our 
 way down we saw on the river bank, under the 
 trees, the old hostelry, Alexander's, still in de- 
 cay, — an attractive tavern, that was formerly 
 one of the notable stopping - places on the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 189 
 
 river. Master, and fine lady, and obsequious, 
 larking darky, and lumbering coach, and throng 
 of pompous and gay life have all disappeared. 
 There was no room in this valley for the old 
 institutions and for the iron track. 
 
 " When in the chronicle of wasted time 
 I see descriptions of the fairest wights, 
 And beauty making beautiful old rhyme 
 In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, . . . 
 We, which now behold these present days, 
 Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise." 
 
 This perverted use of noble verse was all the 
 response the Friend got in his attempt to drop 
 into the sentimental vein over the past of the 
 French Broad. 
 
 The reader must not think there is no enter- 
 prise in this sedative and idle resort. The con- 
 ceited Yankee has to learn that it is not he 
 alone who can be accused of the thrift of craft. 
 There is at the Warm Springs a thriving mill 
 for crushing and pulverizing barytes, known 
 vulgarly as heavy-spar. It is the weight of 
 this heaviest of minerals, and not its lovely 
 crystals, that gives it value. The rock is 
 crushed, washed, sorted out by hand, to remove 
 the foreign substances, then ground and sub- 
 jected to acids, and at the end of the process 
 it is as white and fine as the best bolted flour. 
 :This heavy adulterator is shipped to the North 
 
140 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 in large quantities, — the manager said he had 
 recently an order for a hundred thousand 
 dollars' worth of it. What is the use of this 
 powder? Well, it is of use to the dealer who 
 sells white lead for paint, to increase the weight 
 of the lead, and it is the belief hereabouts that 
 it is mixed with powdered sugar. The industry 
 is profitable to those engaged in it. 
 
 It was impossible to get much information 
 about our route into Tennessee, except that we 
 snould go by Paint Rock, and cross Paint 
 Mountain. Late one morning — a late start is 
 inevitable here — accompanied by a cavalcade, 
 we crossed the river by the rope ferry, and 
 trotted down the pretty road, elevated above 
 the stream and tree -shaded, offering always 
 charming glimpses of swift water and over- 
 hanging foliage (the railway obligingly taking 
 the other side of the river), to Paint Rock, — 
 six miles. This Paint Rock is a naked preci- 
 pice by the roadside, perhaps sixty feet high, 
 which has a large local reputation. It is said 
 that its face shows painting done by the In- 
 dians, and hieroglyphics which nobody can 
 read. On this bold, crumbling cliff, innumer- 
 able visitors have written their names. We 
 stared at it a good while to discover the paint 
 and hieroglyphics, but could see nothing except 
 iron stains. Round the corner is a farmhouse 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 141 
 
 and place of call for visitors, a neat cottage, 
 with a display of shells and minerals and 
 flower-pots ; and here we turned north, crossed 
 the little stream called Paint River, the only- 
 clear water we had seen in a month, passed 
 into the State of Tennessee, and by a gentle 
 ascent climbed Paint Mountain. The open 
 forest road, with the murmur of the stream 
 below, was delightfully exhilarating, and as we 
 rose the prospect opened, — the lovely valley 
 below, Bald Mountains behind us, and the Butt 
 Mountains rising as we came over the ridge. 
 
 Nobody on the way, none of the frowzy 
 women or unintelligent men, knew anything of 
 the route, or could give us any information of 
 the country beyond. But as we descended in 
 Tennessee the country and the farms decidedly 
 improved, — apple-trees and a grapevine now 
 and then. 
 
 A ride of eight miles brought us to Waddle's, 
 hungry and disposed to receive hospitality. 
 We passed by an old farm building to a new 
 two-storied, gayly painted house on a hill. We 
 were deceived by appearances. The new house, 
 with a new couple in it, had nothing to offer 
 us, except some buttermilk. Why should any- 
 body be obliged to feed roving strangers ? As 
 to our horses, the young woman with a baby 
 in her arms declared, — 
 
142 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 " We 've got nothing for stock but rough- 
 ness; perhaps you can get something at the 
 other house." 
 
 " Roughness," we found out at the other 
 house, meant hay in this region. We procured 
 for the horses a light meal of green oats, and 
 for our own dinner we drank at the brook and 
 the Professor produced a few sonnets. On this 
 sustaining repast we fared on nearly twelve 
 miles further, through a rolling, good farming 
 country, offering little for comment, in search 
 of a night's lodging with one of the brothers 
 Snap. But one brother declined our company 
 on the plea that his wife was sick, and the 
 other because his wife lived in Greenville, and 
 we found ourselves as dusk came on without 
 shelter in a tavernless land. Between the two 
 refusals we enjoyed the most picturesque bit 
 of scenery of the day, at the crossing of Camp 
 Creek, a swift little stream, that swirled round 
 under the ledge of bold rocks before the ford. 
 This we learned was a favorite camp-meeting 
 ground. Mary was calling the cattle home at 
 the farm of the second Snap. It was a very 
 peaceful scene of rural life, and we were in- 
 clined to tarry, but Mary, instead of calling 
 us home with the cattle, advised us to ride on 
 to Alexander's before it got dark. 
 
 It is proper to say that at Alexander's we 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 143 
 
 began to see what this pleasant and fruitful 
 country might be, and will be, with thrift and 
 intelligent farming. Mr. Alexander is a well- 
 to do farmer, with plenty of cattle and good 
 barns (always an evidence of prosperity), who 
 owes his success to industry and an open mind 
 to new ideas. He was a Unionist during the 
 war, and is a Democrat now, though his coun- 
 ty (Greene) has been Republican. We had 
 been riding all the afternoon through good 
 land, and encountering a better class of farm- 
 ers. Peach-trees abounded (though this was 
 an off year for fruit), and apples and grapes 
 thrive. It is a land of honey and of milk. 
 The persimmon nourishes ; and, sign of abun- 
 dance generally, we believe, great flocks of tur- 
 key-buzzards — majestic floaters in the high 
 air — hovered about. This country was rav- 
 aged during the war by Unionists and Confed- 
 erates alternately, the impartial patriots as 
 they passed scooping in corn, bacon, and good 
 horses, leaving the farmers little to live on. 
 Mr. Alexander's farm cost him forty dollars 
 an acre, and yields good crops of wheat and 
 maize. This was the first house on our jour- 
 ney where at breakfast we had grace before 
 meat, though there had been many tables that 
 needed it more. From the door the noble 
 range of the Big Bald is in sight and not dis- 
 
144 ON HORS R BACK. 
 
 tant ; and our host said he had a shanty on it, 
 to which he was accustomed to go with his 
 family for a month or six weeks in the summer 
 and enjoy a real primitive woods life. 
 
 Refreshed by this little touch of civilization, 
 and with horses well fed, we rode on next 
 morning towards Jonesboro, over a rolling, 
 rather unpicturesque country, but ennobled by 
 the Big Bald and Butt ranges, which we had 
 on our right all day. At noon we crossed the 
 Nollechucky River at a ford where the water 
 was up to the saddle girth, broad, rapid, 
 muddy, and with a treacherous stony bottom, 
 and came to the little hamlet of Boylesville, 
 with a flour-mill, and a hospitable old-fashioned 
 house, where we found shelter from the heat 
 of the hot day, and where the daughters of the 
 house, especially one pretty girl in a short skirt 
 and jaunty cap, contradicted the currently re- 
 ceived notion that this world is a weary pil- 
 grimage. The big parlor, with its photographs 
 and stereoscope, and bits of shell and mineral, 
 ;t piano and a melodeon, and a coveted old 
 sideboard of mahogany, recalled rural New 
 England. Perhaps these refinements are due 
 to the Washington College (a school for both 
 sexes), which is near. We noted at the tables 
 in this region a singular use of the word fruit. 
 When we were asked, " Will you have some 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 145 
 
 of the fruit ? " and said Yes, we always got 
 apple-sauce. 
 
 Ten miles more in the late afternoon brought 
 us to Jonesboro, the oldest town in the State, 
 a pretty place, with a flavor of antiquity, set 
 picturesquely on hills, with the great moun- 
 tains in sight. People from further South find 
 this an agreeable summering place, and a fair 
 hotel, with odd galleries in front and rear, did 
 not want company. The Warren Institute for 
 negroes has been flourishing here ever since the 
 war. 
 
 A ride of twenty miles next day carried us 
 to Union. Before noon we forded the We- 
 tauga, a stream not so large as the Nolle- 
 chucky, and were entertained at the big brick 
 house of Mr. Devault, a prosperous and hospi- 
 table farmer. This is a rich country. We had 
 met in the morning wagon-loads of water-mel- 
 ons and musk-melons, on the way to Jonesboro, 
 and Mr. Devault set abundance of these re- 
 freshing fruits before us as we lounged on the 
 porch before dinner. 
 
 It was here that we made the acquaintance 
 of a colored woman, a withered, bent old pen- 
 sioner of the house, whose industry (she ex- 
 celled any modern patent apple -parei) was 
 unabated, although she was by her own confes- 
 sion (a woman, we believe, never owns her age 
 
146 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 till she has passed this point) and the testi- 
 mony of others a hundred years old. But age 
 had not impaired the brightness of her eyes, 
 nor the limberness of her tongue, nor her 
 shrewd good sense. She talked freely about 
 the want of decency and morality in the young 
 colored folks of the present day. It was n't so 
 when she was a girl. Long, long time ago, she 
 and her husband had been sold at sheriff's 
 sale and separated, and she never had another 
 husband. Not that she blamed her master so 
 much — he could n't help it, he got in debt. 
 And she expounded her philosophy about the 
 rich and the danger they are in. The great 
 trouble is that when a pei'son is rich he can 
 borrow money so easy, and he keeps drawin' it 
 out of the bank and pilin' up the debt, like 
 rails on top of one another, till it needs a lad- 
 der to get on to the pile, and then it all comes 
 down in a heap, and the man has to begin on 
 the bottom rail again. If she 'd to live her life 
 over again, she 'd lay up money ; never cared 
 much about it till now. The thrifty, shrewd 
 old woman still walked about a good deal, and 
 kept her eye on the neighborhood. Going out 
 that morning she had seen some fence up the 
 road that needed mending, and she told Mr. 
 Devault that she did n't like such shiftlessness ; 
 she did n't know as white folks was much bet- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 147 
 
 ter than colored folks. Slavery ? Yes, slavery 
 was pretty bad — she had seen five hundred 
 niggers in handcuffs, all together in a field, 
 sold to be sent South. 
 
 About six miles from here is a beech grove 
 or historical interest, worth a visit if we could 
 have spared the time. In it is the large beech 
 (six and a half feet around, six feet from the 
 ground) on which Daniel Boone shot a bear, 
 when he was a rover in this region. He him- 
 self cut an inscription on the tree recording his 
 prowess, and it is still distinctly legible : — 
 
 D. BOONE CILT A BAK OK THIS TREE, 1760. 
 
 This tree is a place of pilgrimage, and names 
 of people from all parts of the country are cut 
 on it, until there is scarcely room for any more 
 records of such devotion. The grove is ancient 
 looking, the trees are gnarled and moss-grown. 
 Hundreds of people go there, and the trees are 
 carved all over with their immortal names. 
 
 A pleasant ride over a rich rolling country, 
 with an occasional strip of forest, brought us to 
 Union in the evening, with no other adventure 
 than the meeting of a steam threshing-machine 
 in the road, with steam up, clattering along. 
 The devil himself could not invent any ma- 
 chine calculated to act on the nerves of a horse 
 like this. Jack took one look and then dashed 
 
148 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 into the woods, scraping off his rider's hat, but 
 did not succeed in getting rid of his burden or 
 knocking down any trees. 
 
 Union, on the railway, is the forlornest of 
 little villages, with some three hundred inhab- 
 itants and a forlorn hotel, kept by an ex-stage- 
 driver. The village, which lies on the Holstein, 
 has no drinking - water in it nor enterprise 
 enough to bring it in ; not a well nor a spring 
 in its limits ; and for drinking-water everybody 
 crosses the river to a spring on the other side. 
 A considerable part of the labor of the town is 
 fetching water over the bridge. On a hill over- 
 looking the village is a big, pretentious brick 
 house, with a tower, the furniture of which is 
 an object of wonder to those who have seen it. 
 It belonged to the late Mrs. Stover, daughter 
 of Andrew Johnson. The whole family of the 
 ex-President have departed this world, but his 
 memory is still green in this region, where he 
 was almost worshiped — so the people say in 
 speaking of him. 
 
 Forlorn as the hotel was at Union, the land- 
 lord's daughters were beginning to draw the 
 lines in rural refinement. One of them had 
 been at school in Abingdon. Another, a ma- 
 ture young lady of fifteen, who waited on the 
 table, in the leisure after supper, asked the 
 Friend for a light for her cigarette, which she 
 had deftly rolled. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 149 
 
 " Why do you smoke ? " 
 
 " So as I sha'n't get into the habit of dip- 
 ping. Do you think dipping is nice ? " 
 
 The traveler was compelled to say that he 
 did not, though he had seen a good deal of it 
 wherever he had been. 
 
 " All the girls dips round here. But me and 
 my sisters rather smoke than get in a habit 
 of dipping." 
 
 To the observation that Union seemed to be 
 a dull place : — 
 
 " Well, there 's gay times here in the winter 
 
 — dancing. Like to dance ! Well, I should 
 say. Last winter I went over to Blountsville 
 to a dance in the court-house ; there was a trial 
 between Union and Blountsville for the best 
 dancing. You bet I brought back the cake and 
 the blue ribbon." 
 
 The country was becoming too sophisticated, 
 and the travelers hastened to the end of their 
 journey. The next morning Bristol, at first 
 over a hilly country with magnificent oak-trees, 
 
 — happily not girdled as these stately monarchs 
 were often seen along the roads in North Caro- 
 lina, — and then up Beaver Creek, a turbid 
 stream, turning some mills. When a closed 
 woolen factory was pointed out to the Professor 
 (who was still traveling for Reform) as the re- 
 sult of the agitation in Congress, he said Yes, 
 
150 ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 the effect of agitation was evident in all the 
 decayed dams and ancient abandoned mills we 
 had seen in the past month. 
 
 Bristol is mainly one long street, with some 
 good stores, but generally shabby, and on this 
 hot morning sleepy. One side of the street is in 
 Tennessee, the other in Virginia. How handy 
 for fighting this would have been in the war, if 
 Tennessee had gone out and Virginia stayed in. 
 At the hotel — may a kind Providence wake it 
 up to its responsibilities — we had the pleasure 
 of reading one of those facetious hand -bills 
 which the great railway companies of the West 
 scatter about, the serious humor of which is so 
 pleasing to our English friends. This one was 
 issued by the accredited agents of the Ohio and 
 Mississippi Railway, and dated April 1, 1984. 
 One sentence will suffice : — 
 
 " Allow us to thank our old traveling friends 
 for the many favors in our line, and if you are 
 going on your bridal trip, or to see your girl 
 out West, drop in at the general office of the 
 Ohio and Mississippi Railway and we will fix 
 you up in Queen Anne style. Passengers for 
 Dakota, Montana, or the Northwest will have 
 an overcoat and sealskin cap thrown in with all 
 tickets sold on or after the above date." 
 
 The great republic cannot yet take itself 
 seriously. Let us hope the humors of it will 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 151 
 
 last another generation. Meditating on this, 
 we hailed at sundown the spires of Abingdon, 
 and regretted the end of a journey that seems 
 to have been undertaken for no purpose. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 I. — FROM EL PASO TO THE CITY OP MEXICO. 
 
 Naturally one shrinks a little from writ- 
 ing about Mexico after passing less than two 
 months in its vast territory. There is so much 
 to be said, and there are so many qualifications 
 to be made to whatever is said. The longer 
 one remains there the more he will hesitate 
 to put down even his impressions, and I fancy 
 that in time one would abandon altogether any 
 attempt to write out his conflicting ideas : so 
 much depends upon the temper, the tempera- 
 ment, the tastes, the endurance, of the traveler. 
 One person returns from a trip through Mex- 
 ico in a glow of enthusiasm, interested in the 
 people, enchanted with the climate, full of won- 
 der over the scenery; another, weary with the 
 long journeying, disgusted with the people, half 
 starved by the unaccustomed diet, admits that 
 the scenery is wonderful, though it is monoto- 
 nous, and that the climate — except that the 
 coast is too warm and the highland air is too 
 rare — is delicious, and is heartily glad that the 
 expedition has been made and is over. 
 
156 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 To me Mexico is one of the most interesting 
 countries I have seen, and so novel on every 
 hand that I enjoyed in a way that which is 
 disagreeable almost as much as that which is 
 pleasing. It is novel, and yet, now and again, 
 strangely familiar ; for in its life it is a patch- 
 work sort of country, with a degraded civiliza- 
 tion, constantly suggesting, in a second-hand 
 way, a half-dozen other countries and peoples. 
 I spent most of my time outside the city of 
 Mexico — for it is not there that the life, ex- 
 cept a certain sort of artificial society life, is 
 more advantageously to be studied — and in 
 these papers I purpose to touch upon general 
 life and manners and aspects of nature that 
 came under my observation, with the intention 
 of replying to some of the questions that a re- 
 turning traveler is commonly asked about the 
 pseudo-republic. 1 
 
 Everything is on a vast scale. High ranges 
 of bare mountains running parallel for hundreds 
 of miles, with plains between, often stony and 
 inhospitable, often good grazing land, verdure- 
 clad under the summer rains, but brown and 
 barren, except when irrigated, through the long 
 rainless season from October to June — this is 
 the general character of the highlands. Vast- 
 ness is not picturesqueness, but those who pre- 
 1 The journey was made in February and March, 1 887. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 157 
 
 fer the Sierra sort of scenery which character- 
 izes our own Great West to that of the New 
 England and the Blue Ridge like it. Descend- 
 ing from the mountains about the city of Mex- 
 ico in any direction to the coast by a succes- 
 sion of terraces, one has scenery of a different 
 sort, but still grandiose, and any warmth of 
 temperature desired. 
 
 Entering the country by the gate of El Paso 
 — a gate of ash - heaps for hills, and sand, 
 through which the Rio Grande sprawls over 
 quicksands — one has still twelve hundred 
 miles to traverse — two days and a half by 
 rail — before reaching the city of Mexico. 
 The road runs mainly through valleys with 
 low hills on either side ; but it is by no means 
 a highland level ; the road is constantly as- 
 cending and descending. Starting from a 
 height of 3700 feet above the sea at El Paso, 
 and never descending below this level, some 
 high mountains are climbed on the way. The 
 course is generally upward until the mountain 
 silver-mining city of Zacatecas comes in view, 
 about 8000 feet above the sea. From here 
 there is a sharp descent, but a high level is 
 generally maintained till Marguez is reached, 
 when the lost height is recovered in something 
 over 8000 feet, and a descent made into the 
 Tula Valley, the scenery and vegetation be- 
 
158 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 coming more interesting. Then the great 
 Spanish drainage cut (begun in the seven- 
 teenth century), six or seven miles long, the 
 Tajo de Nochistongo, is entered, and the trav- 
 eler emerges upon the valley of the city of 
 Mexico, about 7400 feet (some calculations 
 make it two hundred feet less) above the sea. 
 Sandy El Paso seldom has any rain, but its 
 air, unaffected by the moisture of vegetation, 
 is simply delicious, like that of the barren 
 plains of western Texas. With five railways 
 centring there, it is growing rapidly, and is full 
 of speculators, traders, gamblers, and the usual 
 accompaniments of frontier civilization. We 
 changed money here, getting for $200 United 
 States 249 Mexican silver dollars, as big and 
 as valuable as our silver dollars; but the ad- 
 vantage of the change was not immediately 
 apparent, for we paid at the stations one dollar 
 for the same sort of meals we had paid sev- 
 enty-five cents for in Texas. The Mexican 
 Central road is smooth and good, except that 
 the sand ballasting makes it occasionally dusty; 
 but nothing whatever is to be said in favor of 
 the fare at its stations. The first decently 
 served meal found was that at Aguas Calien- 
 tes, and that was Mexican. The line does not 
 run through a single town — all lie a mile or 
 a mile and a half to one side, and are reached 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 159 
 
 by horse-cars. Whether the people objected to 
 having the railway near, or whether the com- 
 pany building it thought it more profitable to 
 run street-cars to the towns, I do not know. 
 Both reasons are given for the location. 
 
 The way at first was over a plain, rising, 
 with brown serrated hills on both sides. For 
 the first twenty-four hours the country was 
 mucb in appearance like western Texas — dry 
 and sterile at this season. Chihuahua, as we 
 saw it, a mile and a half off, is a brown city 
 with conspicuous cathedral towers. As we got 
 further into the country the people idling at 
 the railway stations began to be very pictu- 
 resque and poverty-stricken. The hats made 
 the most distinct impression. Everybody 
 seems to invest his fortune in his hat. They 
 are in great variety, but all are high-crowned, 
 of felt or straw, with a brim six inches broad, 
 sometimes the crown black and the brim white, 
 always ornamented with silver or white braid, 
 or a broad strap and buckle. The poor class 
 is all in rags, cotton pantaloons, and a serape 
 generally in strings, and irretrievably grimy. 
 The towns on the road — brown clusters of 
 sun-baked mud — the little adobe houses, the 
 flat plain and pyramidal hills, reminded us of 
 Egypt, as did the squalid people also. Nor 
 was there wanting the peculiar minor cry or 
 
160 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 singsong of boys keeping the cattle on the 
 plains. Now and then was seen a woman 
 with fine dark eyes and comely copper-colored 
 features. Handsome boys in rags were com- 
 mon, and pretty babies. At the stations was 
 always a crowd of spectators. The favorite 
 occupation of the men, clad in big hat, cotton 
 trousers, and ragged colored serape drawn 
 about the shoulders, was to stand perfectly 
 motionless, holding up some building. As we 
 went south more life and more cattle appeared 
 — herds on herds, indeed, scattered over the 
 brown plains — and sheep also. Donkeys 
 abounded. The rider of a donkey sits so far 
 in the rear that a perpendicular line from his 
 head would hit the ground, so that the don- 
 key's hind-legs seem to belong to the boy rid- 
 ing. The country improved in appearance 
 when we were between five hundred and six 
 hundred miles on our journey — still brown 
 and dry, but evidently fruitful. Trees were 
 wanting, but mesquit appeared, and small spe- 
 cies of cacti. There was a good deal of color 
 in the soil, and some lovely effects in the plains 
 and the mountains. We were beginning to get 
 one of the charms of Mexico, namely, atmos- 
 pheric color, which makes a garment for the 
 fairest landscape — a drapery which the artists 
 say is usually wanting in our Northern regions. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 161 
 
 At a little station, very early in tbe morn- 
 ing, before we reached Calera, was a sort of 
 gypsy, Oriental encampment — tents, wagons, 
 donkeys, vagabond men, women, and a band 
 composed of harp, fiddle, and bass-viol, which 
 hailed the rising sun with festive music. 
 These hospitable and hilarious people offered 
 refreshments — coffee and something stronger 
 — to the train passengers, and the women so- 
 licited them to go to a house near by and ex- 
 temporize a dance. I supposed at first that 
 this was a communal emigration from one part 
 of the country to another. But no. These 
 people lived along the base of the mountains, 
 and had come together for a frolic of a few 
 days, with cock-fighting and plenty of whiskey 
 or its equivalent, aguardiente. 
 
 Zacatecas, with its 40,000 to 50,000 inhabi- 
 tants, is an imposing city as seen from the rail 
 which skirts it, and indeed looks down on it. 
 The elevation is over 8000 feet, and the town 
 lies in a sort of cup in the mountains, a com- 
 pact lot of small houses, yellow, red, blue, 
 green, and a great cathedral in the midst. On 
 the hillsides all about and in the valley below 
 it are the silver mines and works. The whole 
 effect of color in the thin air is silver-gray. 
 The wind is keen, and sweeps clouds of dust 
 around the station, where there is a lively 
 
162 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 crowd of fruit hucksters and spectators, in 
 great variety of color and costume. At a sta- 
 tion beyond, a Mexican lady of quality comes 
 on board. She is of the Spanish type, over- 
 dressed in a flowered silk and black mantilla, 
 rich dark complexion, through which the red 
 blood shows, large black eyes, heavy cheeks, 
 and coarse mouth. With her are an elderly 
 woman in black, and several young men, gen- 
 tlemen, in big hats, fantastically braided trou- 
 sers, and semi-brigandish air. 
 
 Aguas Calientes, where we have at the sta- 
 tion a civilized dinner, is in the distance a 
 well-shaded, pretty city. It is the fashionable 
 Mexican hot -springs resort, and the stream 
 from the springs, in which there is promiscu- 
 ous bathing for a mile, is said to give one a fair 
 idea of the Mexican disregard for convention- 
 alities. At the table d'hote are several typ- 
 ical people : a light-haired Mexican, with high, 
 narrow, empty forehead, very grave ; the loud, 
 swash-buckler major-domo of a neighboring ha- 
 cienda, in an enormous white hat, fancy coat, 
 and braided trousers, and a long pistol con- 
 spicuous in his belt ; a big fat young gentle- 
 man with intensely black, small eyes, broad, 
 heavy face, thin mustache, like a youth over- 
 ripe, small forehead, and a big hat, talking to 
 a little withered, parchment-faced man, atten- 
 tive and obsequious. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 163 
 
 Novel pictures constantly present themselves. 
 The lady of quality descends at a way-station, 
 where she is met by a handsome open carriage, 
 with servants in livery, and a modern Spanish- 
 looking gentleman, handsome, and not too ex- 
 travagantly dressed in the Spanish mode. Her 
 hacienda is not far off, at the foot of the hills. 
 The lady is very well known in the city, and 
 has a history. Mexico abounds in " histories." 
 At all the stations are crowds of boys, men, 
 and women, who offer for sale oranges, sweets, 
 Mexican "messes," and queer-looking fruits 
 which are out of season, and do not taste good, 
 and they make a tremendous clamor, like Ital- 
 ian venders. The region beyond Silao boasts 
 that it has ripe strawberries every month in 
 the year. At Irapuato we bought a little 
 basket of this fruit for fifty cents, not ripe, but 
 still sweet. The basket was solidly filled with 
 cabbage leaves ; and disposed on top neatly, so 
 as to hide the leaves, were a couple of dozen 
 berries. These simple people have nothing to 
 learn of Northern market - men. We have 
 struck a very old civilization. 
 
 Tuesday morning at seven, having left El 
 Paso Saturday night at seven, we passed 
 through the famous deep cut or canal of No- 
 chistongo. It is not picturesque, the walls 
 being of hard earth, with little rock visible. 
 
164 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 This cut was first made by the Indians as a 
 drain for the valley. People have wondered 
 what they did with the excavated earth ; ac- 
 quaintance with the Indians suggests the ex- 
 planation that they kept most of it on their 
 persons. They are no longer attached to the 
 soil as peons, but the soil is attached to them, 
 and most of them are dirty enough to be called 
 real estate. We are at last in the valley of 
 the city of Mexico. This long route, through 
 valleys and over mountains, somewhat dusty, 
 always in the sunshine, with a temperate heat 
 and good air, is monotonous in all its variety, 
 but exceedingly interesting in the retrospect, 
 considering that it is a railway journey, for 
 we have seen many sorts of people and many 
 strange costumes. 
 
 The valley of the city of Mexico is circular 
 in form, with an average breadth of thirty to 
 thirty-five miles, and flat, save for some little 
 hillocks. It has two shallow lakes, Chalco and 
 Tezcoco, the one fresh and the other brackish. 
 Chalco is connected directly with the city by 
 a canal twelve miles long. The area is more 
 generally marshy than otherwise, and cut by 
 canals and irrigating ditches. To the north of 
 the city some four miles is the hill and town 
 of Guadalupe, with its sacred mineral spring ; 
 to the south three miles, at the end of the 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 165 
 
 Paseo drive, is the hill of Chapultepec. This 
 basin is completely surrounded by mountains 
 of varying height. To the west they rise 
 10,000 feet (above the sea), and east, south- 
 erly, are the twin snow peaks Iztaccihuatl and 
 Popocatepetl, the latter 17,500 feet high, and 
 the former, the White Woman, a little lower. 
 All the streams from the hills run into this 
 basin, and there is absolutely no outlet for the 
 water except the cut of Nochistongo, which 
 affects only a small portion of the valley. 
 Exit from the city to the country is on slightly 
 raised causeways. Thus Mexico, which, from 
 its elevation and superb, equable climate, 
 should be the healthiest city in the world, is, 
 wanting drainage, subject to various malarial 
 and typhoid fevers and to pneumonia. One 
 hesitates to speak of the climate, for that is so 
 much a matter of individual adaptation. To 
 most people, I think, the climate of the valley 
 is delicious. The rare air, the necessity of 
 breathing fast to get oxygen enough, quickens 
 the pulse, and many new-comers have head- 
 ache and a pain in the back of the neck ; but 
 these usually pass off in a few days. It may 
 not suit those who have tendency to heart-dis- 
 ease, and much better places can be fouind in 
 the republic for those with irritated throats 
 and delicate lungs. The average temperature, 
 
166 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 summer and winter, is about 70°, running from 
 60° to 80° and over. The winter is rainless 
 and dry from, say, October to the last of 
 May ; the trees and hedges are dusty, and the 
 landscape brown ; in summer the heat is no 
 greater, but the air is cleared of dust and haze 
 by daily showers, everything is green, blooming, 
 and sparkling, and the atmosphere is said to 
 be delicious. April and May are the warmest 
 months of the year. With the summer rains, 
 which turn to snow on the highest mountains, 
 of course the two volcanoes have much more 
 snow than in winter. Occasionally in Janu- 
 ary the thermometer falls below the average, 
 the snow lies for some hours on the encircling 
 foothills, and the city experiences some chilly, 
 uncomfortable days, for which it is wholly un- 
 prepared. The mass of the people and the sol- 
 diers, who wsar cotton clothes the year round, 
 evidently do not expect this sort of thing. For 
 a Northerner I should say the dress for summer 
 and winter should be his ordinary woolen ap- 
 parel for spring and autumn, with a light over- 
 coat for driving. 
 
 No railways run into the city; the stations, 
 of all the roads are outside in the suburbs ; but 
 carriages are plenty and not dear, and street 
 railways traverse the city in all directions, and 
 run to the outlying villages. These cars always 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 167 
 
 go in pairs, a first-class closely followed by a 
 second-class. For funerals, an open platform 
 car performs the service of a hearse. It used 
 to be necessary, when the country was unsafe, 
 for cars going into the villages to make up a 
 train of at least three, with a guard of soldiers. 
 The city, with some 300,000 inhabitants, 
 spreads over a large area, with more houses of 
 two than of three stories. The streets are of 
 good width, laid at right angles, and often 
 there is the agreeable perspective of a mountain 
 at the end ; the house architecture is generally 
 simple, square, with square windows, balconies, 
 awnings, and with considerable color in the 
 houses, reddish, pink, cream, colors usually 
 toned down, but which give life and even re- 
 finement to the streets. For variety there are 
 some solid, statety, half-Spanish buildings, now 
 and then one very handsome with tiles, some 
 fantastically painted, and the picture-decorated 
 pulque shops. In churches and public build- 
 ings the city does not lack imposing architec- 
 ture, yet the general effect is that of sameness. 
 There are many fine shops and pleasant ar- 
 cades, especially in San Francisco Street, and 
 about the Plaza ; and of course there is more 
 or less concentration of such in the centre of 
 the city ; but as a rule the city differs from our 
 cities in not having a business quarter and a 
 
168 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 residence quarter ; like Paris, shops are scat- 
 tered all over the city, and the people live over 
 them. The monotony of the right - angled 
 streets is broken by some picturesque market 
 squares, by the large Cathedral Plaza, by the 
 Alameda, a long narrow plot of ground with 
 trees and semi-tropical vegetation, and the very 
 broad and well-planted Paseo. This is lined 
 with gardens and a few country houses, has 
 some statues, and, running out three miles to 
 Chapultepec, is the favorite driving and riding 
 and display ground of all the world late in the 
 afternoon. Of course it is understood that 
 many of the edifices, hotels, public buildings 
 and private, are built about courts, and that 
 there are many pretty patios and gardens. In 
 the shop windows is a good deal of cheap 
 jewelry and a display of meretricious taste ; 
 but there are more book and art stores, more 
 pictures and engravings, than can be found in 
 any Southern city of the United States, and the 
 art and fancy windows are usually thronged 
 with spectators. The aspect of street life as to 
 dress, in most parts of the town, is European, 
 but it is motley as to color, most of the Mex- 
 icans being hybrids of all shades. Now and 
 then appears an Indian woman, short and squat, 
 with high cheek-bones, clad in a single piece 
 of cotton cloth ingeniously wrapped about her. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 169 
 
 The water-carriers, half naked, with the jar on 
 the back supported by a strap across the fore- 
 head, remind one of the Orient ; there are not 
 many beggars, but the sidewalks are beset with 
 women and children selling lottery tickets for 
 daily drawings — the curse of the city ; all the 
 women, except in the upper class, wear invari- 
 ably the graceful ribosa — a long shawl woven 
 of cotton, with a deep fringe, generally light 
 blue, worn over the head or draped about the 
 shoulders. The serape, or blanket, the national 
 garb for the men, appears less frequently in 
 the city than in the country. Men are water- 
 ing the streets with pails and garden watering- 
 pots. 
 
 There are plenty of boarding-houses, built 
 about courts, with interior galleries, most of 
 the rooms opening only on the court, the fare 
 being Mexican, and not bad when one is ac- 
 customed to it ; several of the hotels are com- 
 fortable lodging-houses — pleasant if one gets 
 a room with a window outside and a door upon 
 the sunny court — and they have restaurants 
 attached. But all these, and all those in the 
 city, are decidedly of the third class, and not 
 tempting to people with delicate appetites. 
 There is no excuse for this poor cooking and 
 indifferent service, for the markets were well 
 supplied, and in private houses and clubs the 
 
170 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 tables are excellent. A good hotel would be 
 much appreciated by travelers. The custom of 
 the country is to take morning coffee, break- 
 fast at twelve, and dine at six or seven o'clock. 
 In itself, considering its mongrel population, 
 climate, and easy-going mode of life, and com- 
 pared with any city of the United States, Mex- 
 ico is interesting; contrasted with Continental 
 cities it is less so, and after its few " sights " 
 are exhausted it becomes tiresome for the 
 transient visitor — tiresome, that is, unless one 
 devotes himself to the language, to a study of 
 antiquities, or to social problems, such as that 
 of the mixed race. All big cities are much 
 alike after the surface novelties are worn off. 
 There remains, of course, " society," somewhat 
 secluded under the republic, and slightly en- 
 livened by the foreign legations. There are 
 many German and French merchants, and a 
 few Englishmen doing business, but there are 
 no American merchants. Generally speaking, 
 the Americans, who have drifted in from the 
 frontier as adventurers, or have fled here for 
 personal reasons, have not been men who gave 
 the Mexicans a favorable idea of American 
 breeding, manners, or character. The railway 
 service has carried there a different element. 
 The Mexican himself thinks a great deal of 
 manners and exterior courtesy, though his ideas 
 of integrity are decidedly Oriental. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 171 
 
 In its shops the city is more modern than the 
 traveler expects to find it. Antiquity shops 
 are few, and these have been pretty well ran- 
 sacked by excursionists and dealers. Old 
 Spanish lace and mantillas can only be had by 
 chance, and old Spanish and Indian curios have 
 been mostly picked up ; yet treasures remain 
 to the patient searcher in the way of old books, 
 especially Spanish ; and odd things illustrating 
 the costumes and the industries of the country 
 can be found occasionally. But as a rule the 
 most characteristic things in the republic are to 
 be sought in the provincial cities and the small 
 villages. Lack of communication has preserved 
 local peculiarities. Wherever the traveler goes, 
 he will find some local flavor and some habits 
 and costumes new to his experience. As to 
 the " sights " of the city, they have been so 
 fully written of that description in any detail 
 would be out of place in a general view of this 
 sort. The old tourist will probably most en- 
 joy wandering about town and seeing how the 
 Mexicans live; but there are a few sights that 
 he must see in order to retain the respect of his 
 home friends : these are the Cathedral, the 
 Museum and Picture - Gallery, the National 
 Library, Chapultepec, Guadalupe, the Noche 
 Triste Tree, and the canal leading to Lake 
 Chalco. 
 
172 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 The Cathedral is perhaps imposing by its 
 size, not otherwise — a jumble of bad Span- 
 ish architecture, and barren and uninteresting 
 within, in comparison with Continental cathe- 
 drals. The Picture-Gallery, San Carlos, may 
 have interest historically ; artistically it has 
 none. The walls are hung with old Spanish 
 sacred rubbish, and the modern paintings are 
 as bad, showing little new life or growth. 
 There is not a painting that one would care to 
 bring away for the cost of carriage. But the 
 government has a school here, where pupils 
 draw from casts and architectual designs. 
 Much of the work of the pupils was creditable, 
 and the school is full of promise. At the 
 Museum of Mexican Antiquities the visitor will 
 care to spend more time, though the country 
 has been stripped of the relics of the old races 
 by foreigners. There is a fair display of Aztec 
 pottery, a little gold, a few ornaments, part of 
 a dress worn by Montezuma ; but the most 
 interesting object in the part of the Museum 
 that is arranged is the Aztec picture-writing. 
 In a large lumber -room opening out of the 
 court below, and usually kept locked, are the 
 larger monuments of the old civilization. This 
 room has an earth floor, and is in disorder. 
 Carpenters are said to be at work in it, and the 
 government has been for years putting it in 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 173 
 
 order, but it is in about the condition of the 
 Sultan's museum of antiquities at Constanti- 
 nople. Here is the Calendar Stone, with its 
 enigmatical figures, and sacrificial stones, the 
 uncouth images, the heavy recumbent figures, 
 with head raised and knees drawn up, the 
 conical stones, having serpents with feathers 
 coiled about them. The impression made upon 
 my mind by these objects was that of gro- 
 tesqueness. Probably they are not meaningless, 
 but they seem so. There is nothing in our 
 civilization or tradition that brings us en rap- 
 port with them, or enables us to comprehend 
 tbem. There is no beauty of form to appeal to 
 us ; nothing in the sculpture or designs that 
 comes within the scope of our ideas ; nothing 
 intellectual. The inscriptions and characters 
 give us no starting-point of sympathy. They 
 seem to us not simply fantastic, but the work 
 of people whose fancies were entirely out of 
 the line of our own development. In this they 
 differ wholly from the Egyptian remains, which 
 are simpler, and, though we cannot understand 
 them, appeal to something that we have in 
 common with all antiquity. I am not referring 
 to the comparative difficulty of reading the 
 Egyptian hieroglyphics and the Mexican char- 
 acters or ornamental designs, but to the essen- 
 tial difference in the appearance to our eyes ; 
 
174 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 the one is civilized, and the other barbarous. 
 The National Library, housed in a sequestrated 
 church, is a vast collection of Spanish and 
 mainly ecclesiastical literature, wanting a cata- 
 logue and proper arrangement, but no doubt a 
 good mousing-place for the student. 
 
 On the 17th of February, in the afternoon, 
 when we drove out the broad Paseo to Chapul- 
 tepec, the wind was fresh and chilly, the day 
 was cloudy, and later there -was a little rain. 
 Indeed, about this time of year clouds begin to 
 gather late in the day, the air becomes thick 
 and hazy in the distance, so that the high 
 mountains are obscured. This thickening of 
 the atmosphere does not mean usually imme- 
 diate rain, but daily the cloudiness increases 
 until the daily summer rains begin. After they 
 set in, the atmosphere for the greater part of 
 the day is dazzlingly clear. For scenery, there- 
 fore, Mexico should be visited in the summer. 
 The temperature is no higher than in the win- 
 ter, on the high lands, but vegetation is fresh, 
 and the air is clear. From the Paseo drive the 
 twin snow-clad volcanoes Popocatepetl and Iz- 
 taccihuatl are visible ; but, especially in the 
 winter atmosphere, they seem distant, and do 
 not dominate the city as one is led to expect 
 from the pictorial representations. 
 
 Chapultepec is a mass of rock perhaps two 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 175 
 
 hundred feet high, springing abruptly from the 
 plain, but behind it are low elevations gradu- 
 ally rising to the foot-hills. About the foot 
 of this hill are semi-tropical gardens and the 
 famous Cypress Grove. The roads winding 
 through the noble avenues are the favorite re- 
 sort for driving and riding. These trees, tower- 
 ing to a great height, magnificent in the stately 
 upspringing of their trunks, and lovely in the 
 deep cinnamon-color of the bark, are not to be 
 compared to anything I have seen elsewhere. 
 They are very old ; one of them is called the 
 Tree of Montezuma, and the grove was no 
 doubt old when he reigned. I put the tape to 
 one of them five feet above the ground, and got 
 a girth of thirty-nine feet. I believe the Mon- 
 tezuma tree is larger. 
 
 The summit of the hill is reached by a wind- 
 ing carriage road, and here on a small uneven 
 plateau are massed the President's palace and 
 the Military School, the West Point of the 
 republic. Admission is by card from the Gov- 
 ernor of the city, and usually gives access sim- 
 ply to the grounds; but as one of our party 
 had friends in the school, we were very cour- 
 teously shown everything in the academy and 
 the palace. The cadets were fine, intelligent 
 young fellows ; the place was thoroughly neat, 
 and discipline seemed good. I do not know 
 
176 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 enough about war to compare this with other 
 schools of the same character, but its appli- 
 ances seemed rather limited. There is, how- 
 ever, a cannon foundry in the neighborhood, 
 and a manufactory of Winchester arms. We 
 looked with interest at the monument erected 
 to the memory of the cadets who fell in the 
 defense of the place in our war with Mexico — 
 mere striplings who fought like heroes, and are 
 held in great honor. There is still a good deal 
 of feeling about this fight in the academy. If 
 the Mexican soldiers had been as courageous 
 and manly as these boys, our capture of the 
 city would have been a much more difficult 
 undertaking. The palace, in process of refur- 
 nishing for the residence of the President, is a 
 tolerably fine building only, but the interior 
 decorations are elegant, very costly, and for the 
 most part in exquisite taste. This taste, how- 
 ever, except in some rooms whose walls are 
 tiled with beautiful tiles distinctly Persian in 
 color and effect, is the taste of New York. 
 The palace lias charming galleries and ombras, 
 and pretty cultivated gardens in its enclosure. 
 The charm of it, however, is in its noble situ- 
 ation. There are grander views in the world 
 than that from its esplanade, but few more poeti- 
 cal or offering so great variety, few that change 
 more in varied beauty with the different lights 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 177 
 
 and changing atmosphere. One does not need 
 to summon all the romance and history of the 
 place to enjoy the prospect. It is that of the 
 vast basin of Mexico, with its shining city, its 
 glittering lakes, its silver canals, its luxury of 
 vegetation, its villages and church towers, and 
 around all the circuit of mountains, huge, hazy, 
 and dreamy, the whole steeped in color, and 
 lording it over all the twin snow peaks, white, 
 spotless, standing on the edge of eternal sum- 
 mer, pure as the rare air of their perpetual 
 winter. 
 
 On the tramway that runs to Atzcapotzalco 
 over the causeway, in the little hamlet of Po- 
 potla, some three miles from the Plaza, stands 
 what remains of the Noche Triste Tree. It 
 is said that Cortez halted by this tree and 
 wept on the awful night of his expulsion from 
 the city. This touch of emotion in the con- 
 queror has consecrated the spot more than a 
 victory. This once gigantic cypress is now 
 only a decayed stump, the interior half burned 
 out, but it still supports a few straggling 
 branches, from which gray moss depends like 
 a funeral trapping. It is protected by an iron 
 fence, and a policeman lounges near to see that 
 no visitor chips off a relic from it, There was 
 not much life about the open triangle where 
 it stands, only a beggar, the usual young girl 
 
178 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 with a baby, a barefooted Indian trotting by 
 with her basket, and some Mexican women in 
 the door of a pulque shop. 
 
 Guadalupe, famous for the shrine of Our 
 Lady of that name, is a rocky hill, very like 
 Chapultepec, and about as far north of the 
 city as Chapultepec is to the south. They are 
 two corresponding sentinels of the plain. At 
 the foot of the hill is the cathedral, very large, 
 but remarkable for nothing except a superb 
 altar railing of silver. Near it is a pretty pub- 
 lic garden, with a fountain and sweet-smelling 
 shrubs, the ground carpeted with violets. It 
 •speaks much for the gentle and refined charac- 
 ter of the Mexicans that such cool little nooks 
 of beauty and repose are common. At a little 
 distance, but still on the plain, is the highly 
 decorated chapel of Our Lady. In the vesti- 
 bule and covered by an iron cage is a bubbling 
 spring of cool mineral water, pungent, but 
 agreeable to the taste, and much resorted to 
 by the thirsty and the devout. It sprang up in 
 the spot where Our Lady appeared to the peas- 
 ant, a most gracious miracle. From this chapel 
 a zigzag paved road, with shrines set at the 
 angles, leads up the hill to the church and cem- 
 etery on the top. The church — always filled 
 with peasant worshipers, men in ragged attire, 
 kneeling women with the graceful ribosa drawn 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 179 
 
 over the head, and half-clad children — is only 
 a bare chapel, but there are some fine tombs in 
 the cemetery, and there lies Santa Anna, the 
 hero of so many defeats. The view from the es- 
 planade is very fine, and of the same character 
 and extent as that from Chapultepec, except 
 that Lake Tezcoco is a more prominent feature 
 in the landscape. It is a place to dream in; ro- 
 mance, history, beauty, the contrasts of nature 
 — what has not Heaven done for this delicious 
 land ? Is it true that where nature is most lav- 
 ish the people are least worthy ? But whatever 
 these people lack, they have apparent content- 
 ment. What a gentle atmosphere of peace and 
 repose there was about the shrine, and in the 
 garden, and in the shadow of the cathedral, 
 where the women sat selling little cakes, varie- 
 gated in color, about as big as Lima beans, 
 which they patted into shape, and baked over 
 charcoal fires in sight of the purchasers. 
 
 Whatever the tourist omits, he should not 
 neglect a ride on La Viga, the canal that 
 connects the city with Lake Chalco. If he 
 cannot spend a day threading this tropical 
 marsh-land, this unique country of dikes, "float- 
 ing gardens," water-fowl, brilliant vegetation, 
 and semi-amphibious people, let him at least go 
 as far as the hamlet of Santa Anita, in the 
 midst of the Chinampas — a pleasure resort of 
 
180 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 the middle and lower classes. Here are a world 
 and a life different from any other, and yet 
 curiously suggestive of many others ; a mixture 
 of Egypt, Venice, and the South Sea Islands. 
 We took boat at the Embarcadero, on an arm 
 of the canal that enters the city, a most un- 
 savory but picturesque place. Here are rows 
 of barges, vegetable boats, and canoes. Our 
 boat was a flat-bottomed parallelogram, with 
 striped calico awning and curtains, and seats 
 along the sides. The size of the boat and the 
 lowness of the canopy are determined by the 
 low arch of a bridge which has to be passed by 
 all boats in the main canal. Our boatman was 
 a squat, sturdy - legged, yellow Mexican, who 
 stood in the bow, and used a pole to propel the 
 boat. When once we were clear of the small 
 canal, with its washer-women, loafers, evil- 
 smelling habitations, tanneries, and the ruck of 
 city life, and came into the broad silver stream, 
 the poling boatman sent us on with an easy, 
 lulling motion, different from the gyration of 
 the gondola, but as fascinating ; and we were 
 in a world of novelty, color, and repose — a 
 blue sky, a gentle breeze that just makes spar- 
 kling the placid stream, and banks offering 
 constant novelties. 
 
 In the neglect and decay there is a certain 
 charm ; low houses overrun with honeysuckle 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 181 
 
 and Castilian roses, ruins embowered in callas, 
 poplars and cotton woods overhanging the water, 
 gardens wild and tangled, a low doorway in a 
 brown adobe hut, with a group of dark-skinned 
 girls and children, a field of yellow grain strewn 
 with flaming poppies, the great sweep of level 
 vegetation, intersected by ditches and canals 
 stretching away off to the white twin moun- 
 tains. The scene, so reposeful, is full of life. 
 A road runs by the canal, and here dash along 
 horsemen in gay trappings, big-hatted, silver- 
 spangled riders, and saddles and bridles stiff 
 with ornament, carriages with lolling beauties, 
 or packed with noisy pleasure-seekers, swar- 
 thy Indian women, wrapped in a single strip 
 of cotton, trotting along under their burdens ; 
 there are the tinkling of guitars in way-side 
 resorts, the calls of boatmen and of laborers in 
 the gardens. The stream is enlivened by crafts 
 of all sorts — dugouts, canoes, barges, each on 
 its errand of business or pleasure. Whatever 
 the occupation, whatever the want, or the dis- 
 sipation, or the indigence, it all seems like a 
 holiday. Barges going to the city market are 
 piled high with vegetables — golden carrots, 
 blood-red beets, green cabbages, laid up in 
 square masses like masonry ; heaps of color ; 
 boat - loads of flowers — sweet - peas, poppies, 
 pinks, roses, gillyflowers, flaming in the sun, 
 
182 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 and filling the air with perfume as they pass, 
 and long scows packed with men, women, and 
 children of the shopkeeping class out for a hol- 
 iday. One boat-load of revelers draws to our 
 side, and as we float along through this en- 
 chanting land, the men, thrumming the guitar, 
 the mandolin, and the zither, play for us the 
 Mexican national anthem, and the minor dance 
 music which comes down from the Moors of 
 Spain, and the women, dark, comely, with 
 Egyptian features and Egyptian languor, shoot 
 glances from under their ribosas at the foreign- 
 ers. These people have the good-humor, the 
 complacency, the passion, of their clime. 
 
 Santa Anita is an Indian village, a collection 
 of low thatched houses, African in appearance, 
 set in plantations of bananas and cacti, with 
 narrow, clean-swept streets, pulque shops, and 
 houses of entertainment for the lower orders. 
 It is a shabby sort of paradise ; the city rough 
 is here, the dissolute players on mandolins, the 
 bedizened young Mexican, the shapely, bronze- 
 limbed Indian who works in the fields or poles 
 the boats through the net-work of canals, the 
 painted city yellow-girl, the broad-faced Indian 
 girl who sells flowers cut out of beets and 
 carrots, and the hot little messes which the 
 Mexicans love; and here the municipal police 
 are more numerous than elsewhere, for here is 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 183 
 
 always a more or less suspicious lot of idlers 
 and pleasure-seekers, come to eat stewed duck, 
 tamales, and the piquant compounds of chile 
 and chopped meat, and above all to drink 
 pulque. The Chinampas, or so-called floating 
 gardens, which surround this hamlet and oc- 
 cupy all this vast marsh territory, and which 
 supply the city with vegetables and flowers, are 
 not at all floating. They are little patches of 
 ground, sometimes not bigger than a blanket, 
 formed by scraping up the earth in a mound, 
 which is held in place by wattles. The water 
 flows around each patch of ground, so that the 
 whole region is a net-work of ditches and 
 canals, set with little squares of vegetables and 
 flowers. The people who cultivate these damp 
 spots live in their boats or in the most primi- 
 tive huts, and pass, as we said, a semi-amphi- 
 bious existence, on a moral plane as low as their 
 country ; yet they seem to be a vigorous race, 
 and the sculptor would find many good models 
 here. Flowers, music, an equable climate that 
 calls for no more exertion in winter than in 
 summer, and demands not much in the way of 
 food or clothing, a mixed blood in which flow 
 the vices of two continents — it is not here that 
 one expects the virile Puritan virtues that make 
 an effective people. But so fascinating, so pic- 
 turesque, so full of light and color and warmth, 
 
184 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 is this region of Capuan suggestions that it is 
 not till afterward that the tourist indulges in 
 such reflections. 
 
 In returning we followed the small canal 
 down into the heart of the city, to one of the 
 great popular market-places. Here, where lie 
 the barges with their gay loads of fruits, flow- 
 ers, and vegetables, where the canal crosses the 
 streets under low, flat arches, one is faintly 
 reminded of the Rialto. But it is one of the 
 lowest parts of the city, and at night might 
 be dangerous. It swarms with ill-favored, ill- 
 savored people, a brutal populace, streets of 
 second-hand shops, rags, low resorts, and pulque 
 shops, with as many drunken women as drun- 
 ken men. 
 
 One can study in the city, as in any large 
 city, all sorts of life, but the ordinary tourist 
 finds it wanting in the attractions of Conti- 
 nental cities. But the city is not only the 
 capital, it is the centre of all the political life 
 of the republic. For in all outward forms this 
 is a federal republic. The city and its environs 
 form the federal district, in the State of Mexico. 
 Besides this state there are twenty -six other 
 states, each with its governor and local legisla- 
 ture, its system of schools. The federal consti- 
 tution is a model one, there is all the machinery 
 of a republican government, two elected Houses, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 185 
 
 a President popularly chosen for a term of six 
 years, who is ineligible again until a term has 
 intervened. But the President is in fact elected 
 by agreement among a knot of leaders, and the 
 office is a matter of arrangement, bargained for 
 usually a long time in the future. Every gov- 
 ernor of a state is practically dictated by this 
 little junta at the capital, and every officer, 
 even to mayors of cities, is so chosen. It is the 
 most purely personal government in the world. 
 Whatever elective forms are gone through 
 with, this is the fact. When the first term of 
 Diaz expired, Gonzales came in by arrange- 
 ment ; when the latter retired, it was to a 
 governorship. Diaz has a predominance of 
 Indian blood, Gonzales of Spanish. 
 
 In his first term Diaz took an enlightened 
 view of the needs of Mexico and its external 
 relations. He invited capital and promoted 
 railways by liberal subsidies. The railways 
 were built ; the subsidies have not been paid. 
 The country was infested with brigands. These 
 brigands were not Indians, but of the mixed 
 Spanish race who had possessions, and took to 
 the highways only on occasion, or when the 
 country was politically disturbed. Vigorous 
 efforts were made to suppress this by the gov- 
 ernment. Gonzales had the reputation of be- 
 ing the head of these quasi-brigands. When 
 
186 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 he came into power brigandage was still more 
 effectively suppressed. People say that his 
 method was to put all the brigands in office, 
 make them governors, mayors, and high district 
 officials, where they could make more than by 
 intercepting caravans, stopping diligences, and 
 carrying off owners of haciendas. And it is 
 universally believed in Mexico that Gonzales 
 in his term of four years saved out of his salary 
 between twelve and eighteen millions of dol- 
 lars, which is now well invested. These leaders 
 are astute diplomatists, as wary and as supple 
 and subtle as the Turks. Whoever makes a 
 treaty with them is likely to be confused by 
 the result ; whoever invests money in Mexico, 
 either in public works or in private enterprise, 
 does so at his risk. Any basis of confidence 
 is wanting in business. The Mexicans do not 
 trust each other. They always seem surprised 
 when a foreigner does as he said he would do. 
 The moral condition is something like that of 
 Egypt. The atmosphere of Egypt is one of 
 universal lying. We who are accustomed to 
 do business on universal faith — • the presump- 
 tion being that a man is honest until the con- 
 trary is proved — cannot understand a social 
 state where the contrary is the assumption. 
 
 One can readily grant to Diaz patriotic in- 
 tentions, and the desire to have Mexico take an 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 187 
 
 honorable place in the world ; but justice is not 
 had priceless in the courts, the officials are all 
 serving their own interests, and official corrup- 
 tion is universal. And yet travel is now safe, 
 public order is maintained, and there is marked 
 progress in education. Still, whatever the gov- 
 ernment is, there is no public, no public opin- 
 ion, no general comprehension of political ac- 
 tion, no really representative government, or 
 representative election. There are few news- 
 papers, the people are not informed, and the 
 mass of them are indifferent, so long as they 
 are personally not disturbed. In only one case 
 (the action of the Congress in regard to the 
 English debt — action promoted by a deter- 
 mined demonstration of the students in the 
 city) has there been any sign of the indepen- 
 dence of the legislature. Mexico remains, in 
 effect, a personal government with no political 
 public. I am making no sweeping declaration 
 as to the character of the mongrel population ; 
 it has its good points. These will appear as 
 we travel further. 
 
II. — CUAUTLA. 
 
 CuAUTLA is a typical Mexican village in 
 the temperate region, about 4000 feet above 
 the sea, in the State of Morelos, which adjoins 
 the State of Mexico on the south. It is reached 
 by a railway — eighty miles in seven hours — 
 which climbs out of the valley eastward, and 
 then runs south and west, making an almost 
 exact half-circle to its destination. In Mexico 
 the railways must run where the mountains 
 permit. 
 
 The first part of the way lies over the flat 
 plain, through the chinampas, or little patches 
 of truck gardens, over narrow canals and 
 ditches, through overflowed ground with tufts 
 of marsh-grass, and between the two lakes. 
 The whole region is alive with teal ducks, 
 which rise from the lagoon and whirl away in 
 flocks as the train passes. On the slightly ele- 
 vated roads donkeys laden with vegetables 
 (the patient beast which a witty woman calls 
 "the short and simple animal of the poor"), 
 Indian women, also bent to their burdens, 
 short, with flat faces, brown legs, small feet, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 189 
 
 and small hands — the aristocracy of the soil 
 — and Mexican laborers in ragged serapes and 
 broad straw hats, file along toward the city. 
 Soon abrupt elevations in the plain are reached, 
 picturesque heights with churches, and the foot- 
 hills are entered. The journey grows more in- 
 teresting as we ascend, the adobe villages have 
 a more foreign character, and the mixed pop- 
 ulation becomes more picturesque in costume 
 and habits. The train is made up of first, sec- 
 ond, and third-class cars. The Mexican men 
 in the first-class, yellow half-breeds, are gor- 
 geous in array, wearing enormous and heavy 
 high-crowned, broad-brimmed hats, loaded with 
 silver and gold bullion, trousers braided down 
 the seams or thick sewn with coins or buttons 
 of silver, every man with a pistol ostentatiously 
 strapped on his waist, and many of them carry- 
 ing guns. These gentlemen are going to hunt 
 at some hacienda in the hills, and at the sta- 
 tions where they alight there is great scurrying 
 about, getting into rickety carriages, mounting 
 heavily caparisoned little horses, which fidget 
 and curvet. There is an amusing air of bra- 
 vado about it all. 
 
 The third-class cars have four parallel 
 benches running from end to end, and are 
 packed with a motley throng — Indian-looking 
 Mexican women in blue ribosas, plenty of chil- 
 
190 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 dren and babies, men in soiled serapes and big 
 hats, everybody eating some odd mess. At all 
 the stations the train makes a long halt, and 
 the sides of the cars swarm with hucksters, 
 mostly women and boys, offering the zapotas 
 and other tasteless fruits, tamales and other in- 
 describable edibles, ices (flavored and colored 
 snow), pink drinks faintly savored with limes, 
 and pulque. The tamal is a favorite composite 
 all over the republic. It consists of chopped 
 meat, tomatoes, and chile rolled in a tortilla. 
 The tortilla, perhaps it is necessary to say, the 
 almost universal country substitute for bread, 
 is a cake made of maize, and about the size 
 of a large buckwheat cake. Its manufacture 
 is one of the chief occupations of the women. 
 In almost every hut and garden one can hear 
 the grinding and the patting of the tortilla. 
 Seated on the ground, the woman has beside 
 her a dish of soaking grains of maize. In front 
 of her is a curved stone, and upon this she 
 mashes the maize with a stone roller held in 
 both hands until it is a paste. This paste she 
 moulds and skillfully pats into shape, and lays 
 upon a piece of sheet-iron to bake over a char- 
 coal fire. Too often it is like Ephraim — "a 
 cake not turned." 
 
 Beggars abound, hideously malshapen and 
 afflicted. At one station a sightless giant 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 191 
 
 (who could, however, see a train of cars and 
 pick up a piece of money), six feet four inches 
 in his bare feet, a mass of streaming hair and 
 tattered clothes, roared aloud for charity. 
 Kneeling on the ground opposite the cars, so 
 that his face was about on a level with the 
 windows, he delivered a long oration in sono- 
 rous Spanish. When a bit of money was thrown 
 him he picked it up and kissed it fervently, 
 and called down all the blessings of Heaven 
 on the giver. When he got nothing he cursed 
 the entire train in a blast of anti-Scriptural 
 language enough to blow it off the track. He 
 does very well at this business, and is the 
 owner of houses, and is a comfortable citizen 
 when not excited by a railway train. The 
 population, on the whole, looks poor and de- 
 graded ; but the women, though squat in figure 
 and aboriginal in feature, the Indian type pre- 
 dominating over the Spanish, have pleasant 
 faces, and wear an aspect of patience. 
 
 At and before we reached Amecameca, an 
 elevation of over 8000 feet, the twin snow 
 mountains rose in view, and thereafter lorded 
 it over the landscape in all our winding way. 
 From Amecameca the ascent of Popocatepetl 
 is usually made, and the cone shows very 
 grandly across the ravine from its elevation. 
 This is the village of sacred shrines and noble 
 
192 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 groves, much resorted to by pilgrims and ex- 
 cursionists. At the sacred festival in May as 
 many as 40,000 worshipers assemble here. At 
 Ozumba, where the road begins to descend, 
 we breakfasted very well for fifty cents, in a 
 rude shanty, on eggs, rice, beefsteak, three or 
 four other kinds of meat aud stews, sweets, 
 pulque, and black coffee. The pulque is best 
 in these high regions. It is a viscous milk- 
 white fluid, very wholesome and sustaining, 
 and would be a most agreeable drink if it 
 " tasted good." In fact it tastes, when it has 
 been a few days fermented, like a mixture of 
 buttermilk and sour cider. But many stran- 
 gers become very fond of it. The older it grows 
 the more intoxicating it is. As the reader 
 knows, probably, it is drawn from the maguey 
 plant, called by us the " century," which grows 
 on these elevations to a great size, and is the 
 cleanest-limbed and most vigorous and whole- 
 some-looking product of the region. When it 
 matures it shoots up a stout spike ten or twenty 
 feet high from the centre, bearing brilliant or- 
 ange flowers. When the plant is ready to tap, 
 the centre stalk is cut out, and the sap collects 
 in the cup thus formed. It is dipped out, or 
 sucked out by a tube, and when first drawn is 
 mild, cool, and refreshing. In about three 
 days it begins to ferment. As it is often car- 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 193 
 
 ried to market on the backs of natives in pig 
 or goat skins, it gets a disagreeable flavor. The 
 maguey plant has many uses. It is eaten cut 
 up and preserved like melon rinds. Its long 
 tough fibre is very extensively used in making 
 ropes and cordage. The end of each leaf ter- 
 minates in a hard, sharp, black thorn. Break 
 off this thorn and strip down the fibres attached 
 to it, and you have a capital needle and thread 
 for coarse sewing. The muleteers use it to 
 mend their saddles and broken harness straps. 
 What encouragement is there to industry when 
 nature furnishes in one plant drink, food, nee- 
 dles and thread, and a rope for lariats ? 
 
 From Ozumba the descent was rapid, in most 
 extraordinary loops and curves, the long train, 
 which was nearly all freight cars, so doubling 
 on itself that the passengers in the rear car 
 could almost shake hands with the engineer 
 on the curves. The air on the summit had 
 been cool, but it grew rapidly warm as we de- 
 scended to Cuautla. Olive groves were seen 
 on the slopes, and peach-trees were in bloom in 
 the little mud villages. The descent was ex- 
 citing in its rapidity, and the ever-changing 
 view — a vast panorama of mountains and val- 
 leys — kept us on the qui vive. In our wind- 
 ings the twin volcanoes were always in sight, 
 first on one side and then on the other, Popo- 
 
194 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 catepetl, almost a regular cone of snow, 17,500 
 feet in the azure sky, and Iztaccihuatl, a little 
 lower, but longer, with a jagged, serrated sum- 
 mit, and buttressed by gigantic ledges. Noth- 
 ing is finer than the majesty of these mountains, 
 so rich in color, so changing in hue at different 
 angles of vision, so nobly dominating the vast 
 slopes down which we were rushing. The 
 country was brown in this dry season, but the 
 soil looked fertile, ready to burst into bloom 
 with the summer rains. As we wound down 
 into the valley, shabby brown villages, both 
 Mexican and Indian, were passed, each with its 
 big cathedral, some of the churches almost in 
 ruins and deserted, remnants of the old Spanish 
 religious enthusiasm. In some of these Indian 
 villages quite primitive customs prevail still, 
 and the inhabitants are as shy of foreigners as 
 they were before the conquest. The plain of 
 Cuautla is watered by a cool mountain stream, 
 and abundantly irrigated ; trees dot the valley, 
 and we had the welcome sight of green fields. 
 Just before reaching the town we ran through 
 vast plantations of cane in all stages of growth. 
 Cuautla, which is too hot and damp in the 
 summer, has a singularly agreeable winter cli- 
 mate, with a warm, direct sun, but a very 
 genial atmosphere. The railway has a pictu- 
 resque station and storehouse in an abandoned 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 195 
 
 church. We passed from that across a tree- 
 planted square to the Hotel San Diego. This 
 is a house of one story, with interior colonnades, 
 built about a large court or garden. All the 
 rooms, which have brick or stone floors, and 
 are furnished only with movable cots, a chair, 
 a small washstand, a bit of mirror (when the 
 irresponsible maid-of-all-work does not carry it 
 away to some other apartment), and perhaps 
 a mat by the cot-side, open on the court, and 
 most of them have no other opening for light 
 and air except the door. A few on the street 
 have windows and wooden shutters. The fare 
 is not quite as primitive as the apartments, for 
 the French landlord introduces some variety 
 into the Mexican cuisine. The garden, al- 
 though the kitchen is on one side of it, and it 
 is not altogether tidy, is a sunny, lovely spot, 
 with a fountain, flowers, bananas, a date-palm, 
 zapotas, jinnies, and other fruit and flowering 
 plants, and Popocatepetl is seen over its trees. 
 
 It is difficult to give an idea of a village so 
 foreign to general experience, Oriental in so 
 many of its aspects, and semi-tropical in its 
 vegetation. Its main streets are regular, con- 
 tinuous blocks of one-story adobe houses and 
 shops — the latter like those in an Italian 
 village — and present mainly blank walls to 
 the passer-by, through the doors of which one 
 
196 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 looks into a court or a garden. There is a for- 
 mal plaza, with the municipal buildings and 
 shops on three sides, and the principal church 
 on the other, none of them remarkable ; but the 
 plaza has fountains, sweet shrubs, trees, and 
 flowers, and a band-stand. The minor streets 
 are simply monotonous rows of adobe walls, 
 some are narrow and roughly paved, but half 
 the town consists of lanes, dusty and unpaved, 
 bordered with gardens and huts, and overhung 
 with the foliage of fruit trees and with vines. 
 It is all novel, however ; the odd little shops — 
 bakers', butchers', barbers', jewelers', all on a 
 small scale and primitive — and the queer cos- 
 tumes, bits of colors in the walls, groups of yel- 
 low children, a dog riding a donkey, pretty 
 girls in the doorways, women in ribosas, men 
 in white, always with the enormous hats : some 
 strange sight continually catches the eye. In 
 one of the churchyards are the handsome trees 
 whose flowers are bunches of long crimson tas- 
 sels, and in another are the parotas, splendid 
 growths, one of them overrun with a gigantic 
 vine, the oopa de oro, which hung out all over 
 it its great yellow flowers, literal cups of gold. 
 In the large church a few people were kneeling 
 on the floor, women mostly ; the interior was 
 cheap and shabby, and gaudily painted in 
 staring colors. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 197 
 
 The reason that the shops are so small and 
 of little consequence is that almost all the buy- 
 ing and selling is done in open market on the 
 regular market-day. To this the dealers take 
 their merchandise, and the country people 
 bring their produce. In Cuautla Sunday is 
 the chief market day, and to the market we 
 went after morning coffee. It was a large 
 open space, dusty, with booths about the sides, 
 and a couple of roofed platforms in the middle. 
 Here were for sale meats, vegetables, fruits, 
 mats, hats, sugar, cloth, every sort of merchan- 
 dise, mostly spread upon the ground, Oriental 
 fashion. But for the absence of camels and 
 turbans and dervishes one might have fancied 
 himself in a North African market-place. It 
 was thronged. The women in cotton gowns 
 of sober colors, now and then one of faint 
 pink ; all wore the ribosa, and all had broad 
 faces and Indian features. But the real Indian 
 women were easily distinguished ; shorter, with 
 heavy masses of coarse black hair, and rather 
 copper than yellow in color, they uniformly 
 wore two strips of dark blue cloth, which were 
 wrapped about them so as to reveal part of the 
 bosom and leave the sturdy brown legs bare. 
 The men wore white shirts, pleated and 
 starched before and behind, and worn outside 
 the white cotton trousers, and of course the 
 
198 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 broad hat, usually of straw. These people, 
 except the Indians, who come in from their 
 little villages with a handful of vegetables or 
 some tortillas to sell, are hybrids of various 
 shades, with much of the Spanish courtesy and 
 civility, but indolent in manner, and appar- 
 ently perfectly satisfied in their ignorance and 
 poverty. 
 
 As good a specimen of a semi-tropical gar- 
 den as one will see anywhere is that of Cortina 
 Mendoza. It is an extensive fruit plantation, 
 and is rather an orchard than a garden, though 
 it resembles neither in our experience. It is a 
 thicket of luxuriant and sweet-smelling and 
 spicy vegetation, and one strays in its dark and 
 damp allees in a tropical gloom, into which 
 the sun penetrates in rifts and gleams. Water 
 diverted from the river rushes through it in 
 swift streams — pure water, the ever-pleasant 
 moisture of which fills all the garden — and 
 small conduits from the canals keep the whole 
 surface water-soaked, except the elevated paths. 
 Here grow in a wild tangle bananas and 
 plantains, thickly set along the streams as 
 rushes by a meadow brook ; the mango, the 
 mamey, and papaya — all large trees ; the or- 
 ange, lemon, and the lime, and the coffee-plant. 
 It is a wilderness of strange foliage, swinging 
 vines, penetrating odors, and brilliant colors. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 199 
 
 Amid the dark leaves gleam the white blos- 
 soms of orange and lemon and their golden 
 globes of fruit, the yellowing mangos, and the 
 red coffee-berries. Coming into this place of 
 deep shade, dampness, and coolness, out of the 
 hot and dusty street, this fenced section of 
 green foliage and bright fruit, one appreciates 
 the passion the Orientals have for running 
 water and shade. But it is all unkempt and 
 untidy, and to the eye accustomed to neatness 
 and orderly cultivation, this wild plantation is 
 typical of the character of this civilization. 
 
 It is the slack time of the year (February) 
 for fruits in this region, and the few, like the 
 chico papaya, that are ripening are flat and 
 tasteless — indeed the majority of tropical 
 fruits are always insipid to our palates. But it 
 is the time of the maturing of the coffee-berry. 
 This plant requires abundant water and heat 
 and shade. When not planted by waterways 
 in such a fruit forest as this, it is set out in ba- 
 nana thickets, whose broad leaves protect it 
 from the direct rays of the sun. The plant is 
 a hardy shrub, with a stem from two to three 
 inches in diameter, and growing ten or twelve 
 feet high — a very respectable tree. From 
 some of the young saplings I cut good walk- 
 ing-sticks. The berries grow on the slender 
 branches, which droop under the weight like 
 
200 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 the willow : if you lift one, it is as heavy as if 
 it were strung with beads of glass. When ripe 
 the berry is deep red in color, oval in form, 
 and in size varying from that of a thorn-apple 
 to a hazel-nut. Inside the skin is a soft sweet- 
 ish pulp, and this embeds the two beans, which 
 lie with the flat faces touching, and each fur- 
 ther protected by a thin membrane. When the 
 majority of the berries are red they are stripped 
 from the branches and spread upon mats to 
 dry, and sometimes upon the ground. Dried, 
 the berries shrivel and become black, and they 
 are then passed through a machine to separate 
 the pulp from the berries. The beans, after 
 further drying, are pounded in a wooden mor- 
 tar to free them from the thin membrane. 
 The bean, which is then of a faint green color, 
 is ready for market ; but it needs age before it 
 is fit to be ground for coffee, and the older it is 
 the better ; in two years' time it gets a good 
 flavor. In this way of harvesting and curing of 
 course the unripe and imperfect berries are in- 
 cluded with the good, and the product is infe- 
 rior. While drying, if the berry gets wet from 
 the dew or a chance shower, its flavor is im- 
 paired ; and when it is spread on earth floors 
 to dry, I fancy it gets an earthy taste. The 
 Mexican coffee, which with proper care is as 
 delicious as any in the world, not excelled for 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 201 
 
 richness and fineness of flavor by the Arabian, 
 is as a rule rudely prepared. It will come into 
 great popularity under more scientific handling. 
 The product, which is large, is nearly all con- 
 sumed at home, for the Mexicans are great 
 coffee-drinkers ; but with its soil and climate 
 there is no reason why Mexico cannot grow 
 coffee for all the Western world. 
 
 There is a great mystery about the varieties 
 and grades of coffee — Java, old Java, Mocha, 
 Rio, etc. It is my opinion, from what I saw 
 of the growth and preparation in Mexico, that 
 the same plant produces in appearance all these 
 varieties — though I do not mean to say that 
 there is not a difference in flavor in the coffee- 
 bean grown in Brazil, Mexico, the Sandwich 
 Islands, and Arabia. A considerable proportion 
 of the Mexican coffee is grown from the Ara- 
 bian or Mocha bean. The Mocha, as we know 
 it in Europe or in this country, is a small round 
 berry, not flattened on one side, but creased. 
 Each berry contains only one bean. Now all 
 the coffee-plants that I saw in Mexico bear ber- 
 ries with one bean and with two beans ; on very 
 old plants there are more single-bean berries 
 than on the young plants, and single-bean ber- 
 ries grow on the ends of the branches. There 
 is a famous variety of coffee in Mexico called 
 the Colima, said to be from the Mocha berry. 
 
202 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 I have no doubt that it is. But coffee resem- 
 bling the Colima bean in appearance and flavor 
 is produced elsewhere in Mexico, and is merely 
 a matter of selection. I saw it at Uruapan in 
 the west, and at Coatepec on the east coast. 
 Pick out from the beans of any field all the 
 small round ones, and you have Mocha ; then 
 select the fair, well-grown, flat beans, and you 
 have a good quality of Java ; the refuse, broken 
 and imperfectly ripened beans, you can send to 
 market under any name you please. 
 
 I suppose that the low repute the Mexican 
 coffee of commerce has had is owing to the 
 fact that it has been thrown into the market 
 green and. without selection. Its cultivation 
 and handling are usually very primitive. Ripe 
 and unripe berries are stripped from the stalk ; 
 in drying on mats or the ground it is likely to 
 acquire foreign flavors, and no care is taken to 
 reject the imperfect beans. Careful growers, 
 foreigners, are beginning to use more scientific 
 processes. They will pick or buy none but the 
 red, perfectly ripe, berries. These are imme- 
 diately put through the machines for removing 
 the pulp. The beans are then dried on frames 
 in ovens with low artificial heat, and the grains 
 are carefully picked over before they are sacked. 
 The natives say that the coffee gains a desirable 
 flavor by being dried in the sweet pulp. All 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 203 
 
 the Mexican coffee, of sufficient age, that I 
 tasted, has a delicious flavor, but it is often 
 spoiled in its preparation for the table. It is 
 commonly burned too much. Ground to a fine 
 powder, and placed in a vessel with a fine sieve 
 bottom, water is poured on, and the fluid drips 
 through slowly, drop by drop, requiring hours 
 to collect a small cup of liquor. This is very 
 strong, and black as ink. It is the very essence 
 or extract of coffee, and a table-spoonful of it 
 is enough when added to hot milk to make a 
 large cup of coffee. The traveler will do well 
 to procure a bottle of this extract in order to 
 strengthen his hotel coffee. 
 
 We spent a week at Cuautla, and might have 
 stayed there months, as many tourists and in- 
 valids do, and not have tired of its easy-going, 
 picturesque life. We wander along one of the 
 dusty lanes, vine-embowered, mount some un- 
 even stone steps, and through a door in the 
 wall enter, not a house, but a garden. Yet it 
 is a house, and we are in the midst of domestic 
 life. There is a pool of water, perhaps a run- 
 ning stream ; large fruit trees cast a dense 
 shade ; splendid oleanders are in flower ; the 
 coffee-berries are ripening red ; the great plan- 
 tain leaves, whipped to strings by the wind, 
 rustle in the breeze. Children, half naked, are 
 playing about, racing after the donkey or chas- 
 
204 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 ing each other in the leafy allees. Sombre- 
 looking men lounge about the huts in a per- 
 petual siesta. Some of the huts are of adobe, 
 open in front, with an earth floor. By the 
 entrance, sitting on the ground, a woman is 
 grinding corn on a stone and baking tortillas. 
 Always one hears in all these houses and gar- 
 dens, at all hours of the day, the soft pat-pat- 
 ting of the tortilla cakes. Very likely the hut 
 is of cane, a mere shelter from the sun and 
 dew, and several of them grouped together 
 make the different rooms of the house; or it 
 may be a more pretentious dwelling, round in 
 form, the walls of cane, and the conical roof 
 heavily thatched with brown grass. Perhaps 
 there is a palm-tree near, and, with the bana- 
 nas, the picture is exactly that of a Central 
 African hut with its surroundings. The whole 
 family, all its branches, with swarms of chil- 
 dren, live in this garden, eating its fruits, suck- 
 ing cane stalks, and procuring, I know not 
 how, the one indispensable thing — maize to 
 make the tortillas. In this fashion live a con- 
 siderable proportion of the population of Mex- 
 ico. How long will it be before they will care 
 anything for politics or literature, and feel the 
 restlessness of modern life ? Very Oriental all 
 this — the thatched, conical huts, the luxuriant 
 vegetation, the dark, lazy people. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 205 
 
 Cuautla has some reputation for its sulphur 
 baths, to which rheumatic and other invalids 
 resort occasionally. We drove one morning in 
 the only vehicle the place possesses — a rum- 
 bling, rickety carriage — out across the river 
 bridge, and over a broken country, mostly a 
 brown barren waste of land, with dried-up aro- 
 matic shrubs and coarse herbage, a mile and a 
 half to the baths. Beyond the bridge is a col- 
 lection of huts and a shanty of entertainment, 
 to which the lower orders resort for dancing 
 and reveling. In a little rocky valley flows a 
 strongly alkaline, clear stream, smelling of sul- 
 phur, and where it falls into a couple of basins 
 in the rock the batkers were assembled. The 
 pools are of greenish hue, and clear as crystal. 
 The bathing is delicious, but the arrangements 
 for it are very primitive. The pools were occu- 
 pied by men, women, and children, and others 
 were undressing and dressing on the margin. 
 Shelter there was none, except an angle in the 
 rocky wall, and a couple of little cane huts. 
 After waiting a long time until the women and 
 children were withdrawn, I secured the angle 
 in the rock, and succeeded in getting a dip in 
 the crystal brook; but none too soon, for fresh 
 company continually arrived. I mention this 
 because it is a custom of the country, and the 
 Mexicans do not mind this promiscuous bath- 
 
206 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 ing, though I believe they are as modest in 
 fact as many of the bathers along our Atlantic 
 coast. Strolling down the stream after the 
 bath, I made the acquaintance of a Mexican 
 family out for a holiday. They had bathed, 
 and were now building a fire under a spreading 
 sycamore to cook their mid-day meal, and en- 
 joy an afternoon siesta. There was the vigor- 
 ous mother, three or four young girls, prettier 
 than Mexican young women usually are, and 
 half a dozen small children. The whole party 
 were full of merriment and good-nature, did 
 not seem to regard the presence of a stranger 
 as an intrusion, pressed upon me the hospital- 
 ity of their unappetizing-looking " messes," and 
 were friendly and cordial and simple, and as 
 little self-conscious as if I had been a native. 
 The country all about was a broken dry plain, 
 with strange, fantastic flowering plants, a few 
 cacti, and no grass. But the air was delicious, 
 and the sky blue and cloudless. 
 
 The Cuautla Valley is a vast sugar planta- 
 tion, most of it the property of one man, Cor- 
 tina Mendoza, a wealthy Mexican, reputed to 
 be worth six millions of dollars, and the builder 
 and chief owner of the Morelos Railway. His 
 large hacienda and sugar factory are a few 
 miles down the valley, and we reached them 
 by a branch railway running through the cane 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 207 
 
 fields. The whole region is perfectly irrigated. 
 Cane matures in this country and blossoms as 
 it never does in the short Louisiana season. 
 We passed fields in all stages of growth — wet 
 ground just set with new sprouts, stubble fields 
 springing up anew, fields with green blades like 
 young maize, fields nearly matured, with the 
 red, sturdy stalks, and fields where the cutters 
 were at work. The richness of the cane is 
 judged not only by the size of the stalks, but 
 by the length of the joints. The mature cane 
 here was exceedingly rich in sugar. 
 
 The hacienda is a vast establishment, a pile 
 of buildings — dwelling-house, factory, sheds, 
 stables, all together, the whole inclosed by a 
 high wall, with cannon mounted at intervals. 
 When the country was disturbed, this defen- 
 sive preparation was needed by all the haciendas, 
 which had to guard against attacks by brigands 
 and chance plunderers. This is said to be the 
 largest sugar hacienda in Mexico. I do not 
 know the number of acres of cane under culti- 
 vation ; it is about 2000 ; but the owner em- 
 ploys 600 men in the mill, and 2500 altogether 
 on his vast estate. He has imported and set 
 up improved machinery to the value, it is said, 
 of half a million dollars. The cane is maturing 
 all the time, winter as well as summer, and the 
 grinding goes on every day in the year. The 
 
208 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 sugar, which has one of the requisites of good 
 sugar, great sweetness, is brown in color, and 
 cast into conical loaves of twenty-five pounds 
 each, the reported net profit to the owner on 
 each loaf being one dollar. The Mexicans con- 
 sume a great deal of sugar, probably nearly all 
 they produce ; and they say that they prefer 
 the dark because it is sweeter than the white 
 and the refined, and purer. 
 
 Within the walls the scene was a very ani- 
 mated one. The area was strewn with crushed 
 cane stalks. Carts loaded with fresh cane, 
 carts loaded with the crushed stalks, were con- 
 stantly arriving and departing ; half naked 
 men, their dark bodies shining with perspira- 
 tion, dragged the cane from the carts, bound it 
 for the swinging derricks that carried it to the 
 crushers, or piled the vehicles with the refuse. 
 Everybody was in a hurry ; the boys lashed 
 the mules and shouted, and the incessant whir- 
 ring of the mill machinery seemed to commu- 
 nicate its energy to the whole plantation. The 
 crusher was always revolving ; the stream of 
 sweet sap was always pouring from its wheels 
 into the channel to the boiling vats ; the boilers 
 were always steaming ; in sticky, molasses-satu- 
 rated rooms the centrifugals were always whirl- 
 ing ; in long chambers men passed to and fro 
 bearing the melted sugar and pouring it into 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 209 
 
 the moulds; in great drying-rooms stood rows 
 on rows of sugar-loaves ; and in the shipping- 
 house all was bustle and activity. We groped 
 about in the half-dark caverns and recesses of 
 this vast establishment, slipping on the sticky 
 floors, sprinkled by the centrifugals, up stairs 
 and down, until we were stunned by the noise 
 and saturated with sweetness. Floors, walls, 
 machinery, the ground — everything was plas- 
 tered with sugar. "I thought that if the prem- 
 ises were " cleaned up," as gold-mills are, sugar 
 enough would be "tried out" to supply Cuautla 
 for a year. 
 
 The centre of all this life and whirl was one 
 man ; his presence it was that made the mule 
 carts race through the fields, the men shout 
 and hurry in the yards, the wheels grind, the 
 vats run, and the sugar take form. In a high, 
 broad, dirty, recessed gallery, above the yard, 
 and attached to the main factory, sits Cortina 
 Mendoza, a giant of a man, long past the age of 
 sixty, in a light summer suit, his ample fore- 
 head shaded by a broad straw hat, black keen 
 eyes glowing through his spectacles. Before 
 him is a plain deal table, with an inkstand and 
 a few papers. About him are dogs, servants, 
 children, messengers coming and going, swarms 
 of dark-skinned, half-clad heathen, amid the 
 whir of the machinery and the braying of 
 
210 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 donkeys. This is his office. From this plat- 
 form he overlooks the whole moving panorama. 
 Here he sits, hour after hour, day after day, a 
 man taciturn, morose in appearance, dispatch- 
 ing all business with a few curt words. He 
 stops a minute in his work to greet us civilly, 
 details an attendant to show us the mill, and 
 asks afterward what he can do for us ; even 
 rises when we depart, and regrets that he has 
 not more time for hospitality. There he sits, 
 reading and answering his correspondence, re- 
 ceiving hourly reports from every part of his 
 plantation, from each section of his works. He 
 knows every hour just how much cane is 
 brought in, what rate of sugar it is yielding, 
 exactly the day's product, how many pounds 
 have been made, how much shipped. The 
 premises swarm with flies ; attracted by the 
 sweets, they pervade the place, settling in black 
 masses or darkening the air. It is an Egyptian 
 plague. They literally cover the stalwart pro- 
 prietor as he sits at his deal table. 
 
 Cortina Mendoza is a widower. Years ago 
 he lost his lovely and beloved wife, and the 
 story is, he has since that bereavement devoted 
 himself exclusively with a grim determination 
 to his sugar hacienda. I was told that he is 
 actually alone in the world. Of society cer- 
 tainly he can have little in that mongrel crew 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 211 
 
 among whom his life is passed. He is very 
 rich, as I said ; he has a fine house luxuriously 
 furnished in Mexico. Seldom if ever does he 
 visit it, seldom does he seek other society than 
 that of his laborers and dependents. It is a hot 
 place, that recess, hot even in February. But 
 there sits, day after day, year in and year out, 
 surrounded by swarms of steaming, half-naked 
 servants, donkeys, and dogs, one of the richest 
 men in Mexico, covered with flies ! 
 
 The capacity of this country for sugar-grow- 
 ing seems to me enormous. How can it be 
 otherwise in regions where the soil is fertile, as 
 it is in all the valleys, upland or lowland, where 
 water is abundant for irrigation, where frost 
 never comes, and the cane matures for grinding 
 every day in the year, and where labor is still 
 cheap ? There would seem to be no limit to 
 its production, except the capital that is put 
 into it. But notwithstanding the present cheap- 
 ness of labor — from twelve cents to twenty- 
 five cents a day — Mexico, in order to compete 
 with its cane sugar in the markets of the world 
 with the beet sugar, needs capital for labor- 
 saving machinery and improved processes. And 
 it is not easy to get that capital. There are 
 very few Mexicans who have the energy or the 
 ability to handle it if they had it. And there 
 is the smallest encouragement for foreigners to 
 
212 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 go there. The law protects them in their 
 rights just about in proportion to their ability 
 to buy that protection from judges and the 
 political officials. Every sort of hindrance is 
 put upon business and commerce. There are 
 heavy import duties, heavy export duties, 
 stamp duties, octroi duties, duties between 
 states. All this tax might be borne if it were 
 steady and fixed at different ports and places 
 of entry, and if the taxes and customs were 
 honestly levied and paid into the treasury. 
 But they are not. The state of things existing 
 in Egypt years ago obtains now in Mexico. A 
 great proportion, perhaps the larger part, of 
 the tax and custom dues goes into the pockets 
 of the officials, and not into the treasury of the 
 government. If the taxes laid and wrung from 
 natives and foreigners went into the treasury, 
 Mexico would be out of debt and financially 
 prosperous. I think no one can deny this. The 
 officials all get rich, the natives are kept poor, 
 and the foreigners live in uncertainty. There 
 is no uniformity in the official plundering. 
 Importers of goods prefer to bring them in by 
 the Central Railway rather than by Vera Cruz, 
 because they can make better terms with the 
 inland officials. I heard the story of an Eng- 
 lish ship captain who brings cargoes to the 
 west coast, which I have reason to believe to 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 213 
 
 be true. When he reaches a western port he 
 anchors, and lands in his small boat and ascer- 
 tains what terms he can make at the custom- 
 house. If they are unsatisfactory he sails to 
 another port, and then to another, and he 
 finally takes his goods ashore at the port where 
 he can make the best terms with the customs 
 officials. 
 
 In order to encourage mining and other in- 
 dustries the government admits certain machin- 
 ery free of duty. That is the law. But a 
 foreigner seldom gets in any machinery without 
 paying heavily on it, sometimes three or four 
 hundred per cent, on its cost. It takes a good 
 deal of money to convince the officials that it is 
 machinery. If it is an engine, it of course 
 comes in pieces. How can the officials tell that 
 it is an engine ? If it is a bar of steel, how 
 can the officials tell that it is for a drill ? An 
 American miner who imported tubes to replace 
 those worn out in his boiler had to pay six 
 hundred dollars for what in the States cost him 
 less than sixty dollars. A man on the line of 
 the Central road waited weeks to get a carboy 
 of sulphuric acid through the hands of the 
 various officials. Its cost in El Paso was three 
 dollars. He paid twenty-four dollars duties on 
 it. When he opened the carboy it was empty ! 
 Two invoices have to be made out, one in Eng- 
 
214 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 lish and one in Spanish. If any article is mis- 
 spelled, not spelled exactly in the invoice as it 
 is in the free schedule, it must pay duty. Of 
 course it is the officials, and not the govern- 
 ment, who profit by this clerical error. These 
 are some of the hundreds of annoyances and 
 hindrances in the way of doing business in 
 Mexico. A foreigner must reckon, and does 
 reckon, as a part of his necessary outlay, money 
 to keep on the right side of the officials. 
 
 Of course the root of all these evils is not 
 in the fact that Mexico is poor, and needs to 
 squeeze everybody for a revenue, but in the 
 fact that the government is purely a personal 
 one, and run for the benefit, not of the people, 
 but of the officials. And before this can be 
 otherwise there has to be created in Mexico a 
 public ; and this will be a long and slow pro- 
 cess with a mongrel people civilized on the 
 Egyptian basis of mutual distrust. 
 
m. — COATEPEC. 
 
 One inconvenience in traveling in Mexico is 
 the bulky silver money with which the tourist 
 must load himself down. Whenever I moved 
 any distance from the capital I carried a shot- 
 bag full of the cart-wheel dollars, which were 
 worth from nineteen to twenty-four cents less 
 than United States money. The Bank of Lon- 
 don and South America, in Mexico, issues notes 
 which are current in the States of Mexico and 
 Michoacan, and perhaps elsewhere, but not good 
 in the State of Vera Cruz, although the bank 
 officials assured us they were. Consequently 
 we have this anomaly, which is characteristic 
 of Mexico, that while the railway company of 
 the Mexican Railway received these notes for 
 fare at the Mexican end, they would not take 
 them at all at the Vera Cruz terminus. The 
 first-class fare, in an exceedingly roomy and 
 comfortable coach — 263 miles in about four- 
 teen hours — was sixteen dollars. In the train 
 was a carload of soldiers in white cotton uni- 
 form — a precaution against robbers which the 
 government takes on no other railway in the 
 
216 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 republic. At every station, also, a guard of 
 half a dozen soldiers appeared on the platform, 
 saluting as the train drew up. On the higher 
 table-land these guards were mounted, and in 
 their fine appearance reminded one of the fa- 
 mous Guardias Civiles of Spain. 
 
 The morning (February 26) was bright and 
 a little cool ; the twin snow peaks sparkled 
 crystal white in the clear air. The road runs 
 in the Mexican basin north of Lake Tezcoco, 
 through a region highly cultivated, bristling 
 with cacti of grotesque forms, the fields 
 marked by lines of the maguey plant, fre- 
 quent adobe villages, with clusters of the 
 stately organ cactus grouped about the huts, 
 the whole plain full of the stir of agricultural 
 life and movement. As we rose among the 
 hills the clean maguey plant was more abun- 
 dant, and at the first station on the plateau we 
 were at the chief shipping point of the region 
 for pulque. Scores of casks of it were waiting 
 shipment. It is from this station that a con- 
 siderable portion of the thousands and thou- 
 sands of gallons daily needed to supply the 
 wants of the city are sent. At this station de- 
 scended several passengers — English, Ameri- 
 can, and Mexican gentlemen, who had business 
 at some hacienda, or were out for a day's shoot- 
 ing. Among them was a tall, bulky Mexican, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 217 
 
 with gigantic frame and a baby face, who 
 would have excited admiration anywhere. He 
 wore an enormous hat, hung with at least a 
 hundred dollars' worth of silver bullion, was 
 armed with a revolver and a rifle, and had 
 down each seam of his trousers a row of skulls 
 and cross-bones in solid silver, each skull as big 
 as a dollar. Everybody enjoyed the appear- 
 ance of this splendid person, and no one more 
 than he himself. 
 
 At an elevation of some eight thousand feet 
 we were running over a nearly level table-land, 
 with high mountains in the distance — a plain 
 brown and cheerless. A strong wind was blow- 
 ing, and the dust was intolerable. Soon the 
 country became more broken, but with the 
 same aspect of winter barrenness, without a 
 tree to relieve the prospect, and the landscape 
 frightfully gashed and gullied by the heavy 
 summer rains. After we passed Apizaco, 
 whence a road branches off to Puebla, the 
 long noble mountain of Malintzi came in view 
 on the south, and before we reached San An- 
 dreas the mass of Orizaba loomed up in the 
 east over the dusty plain, two peaks, as seen 
 from this point, the higher a long ragged mass, 
 ever snow-clad, rising in majestic beauty be- 
 tween six and seven thousand feet above the 
 enormous elevation of this vast wind-swept 
 
218 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 plateau. From the uplands, from the coast, 
 from the tropical valleys, from all points of 
 view, this seems to be the prince of Mexican 
 mountains. 
 
 At Esperanza we stopped for mid-day break- 
 fast — an excellent, civilized, well-served meal. 
 Here the peach-trees were in full bloom. A 
 little further on, at Boca del Monte, the road 
 begins its rapid descent to the coast level. I 
 doubt if any other railway in the world, cer- 
 tainly none in Europe or North America, offers 
 so many surprises to the traveler, or scenery so 
 startling and noble in character. At Boca del 
 Monte he looks down upon a wilderness of 
 mountains. He is on a wide sterile plain in 
 the temperate zone ; in two hours he will be 
 hurled down in the warmth and luxuriance of 
 a tropical vegetation. Below are mountains, 
 precipices, deep valleys, clouds, mists, which 
 part occasionally and show green fields through 
 the rifts. The descent seems impossible. But 
 the train moves on in long curves round the 
 edge of the mountain, doubling on itself, pier- 
 cing a promontory, clinging to the edge of a 
 precipice, leaping by a slender bridge from one 
 hill to another, running backward and forward, 
 but always down, down, until the mountains, 
 nobly wooded, begin to rise above us ; at one 
 point we look sheer down the precipice upon 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 219 
 
 the plain and town of Maltrato, 2000 feet be- 
 low. At Bota, a picturesque station clinging 
 to the precipice, there are crowds of women 
 and maidens offering fruits of all sorts, and 
 pulque, which is not good lower down. Before 
 we know it we have dropped down to Maltrato, 
 a little interval green with grain and trees, 
 hemmed in completely by steep mountains, a 
 thriving town with many spires, 1691 metres 
 above the sea. 
 
 From this little mountain plain we drop to 
 a lower level, through a wonderful defile, nar- 
 row, rocky, with a clear impetuous stream at 
 the bottom ; and as we go down there is not 
 so much the sensation of sinking as that the 
 mountains are rising around us. The level to 
 which we come is the fertile plain of Orizaba, 
 1227 metres above the sea. In the midst of it 
 stands the handsome and highly civilized city 
 of Orizaba — city and valley shut out from the 
 world by immense mountain walls. On this 
 plain we ran into the clouds that we had seen 
 from the heights above, and passing it, we 
 went swiftly down a broad valley, all grain, 
 grass, turf even, pasture-lands, meadows, luxu- 
 riant cane fields, well watered and vernal, not 
 unlike the valley of the Connecticut, except 
 for the yucca and cacti and strange plants and 
 flowers. From this valley we dropped again 
 
220 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 down a narrow, rocky defile, passed through a 
 tunnel, and came into a lower valley that leads 
 to the city of Cordova. The whole of Mexico 
 has this terrace character. It had rained a 
 little at Cordova, and the vegetation showed a 
 climate different from that on the west of the 
 great mountain chain. All the east side of 
 the mountains is liable in winter to " north- 
 ers," which bring lower temperature, clouds, 
 and occasional rain, so that the whole State of 
 Vera Cruz is less brown and sere in the dry 
 season than the western uplands. At Cordova 
 we were in a semi-tropical region, 827 metres 
 (about 2600 English feet) above the sea ; we 
 had dropped from winter into summer. On 
 either side spread acres and acres of bananas, 
 wide coffee plantations, agaves and pines, and 
 brilliant flowering shrubs ; one, the tulipan, as 
 large as a peach-tree, with splendid scarlet 
 flowers like the tiger -lily. At the station, 
 pineapples and oranges in heaps were for sale. 
 As we went down through the foot-hills, pass- 
 ing a finer gorge than any above, with a lovely 
 water-fall, the foliage became more and more 
 tropical; big-leaved plants grew rank along 
 the way, and enormous convolvuli adorned the 
 trees and hedges. 
 
 It was eight o'clock when we reached the 
 absolute sea - level and Vera Cruz, and were 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 221 
 
 driven in a rickety carriage through a broad 
 business street of two-story houses to the Hotel 
 Diligencia, on the little plaza. The hotel, over 
 the first story of shops, is entered by broad 
 stone stairs in the inner court, and is itself an 
 open hall about a court, the hall serving as 
 assembly-room and dining-room, the chambers 
 opening out from it. All the floors are brick. 
 The rooms on the plaza front have balconies, 
 and are primitively furnished, though comfort- 
 able enough, the beds being well protected by 
 mosquito -netting. Rooms, furniture, attend- 
 ance, all bespeak the negligence of a warm 
 climate ; it is, in short, a thoroughly Spanish- 
 Mexican inn, and the table sustains its reputa- 
 tion. 
 
 Vera Cruz has a bad repute, and I suppose 
 that, travestying the remark about Naples, I 
 am expected to exclaim, " Smell Vera Cruz and 
 die." But I found the little city of ten thou- 
 sand people rather agreeable. It is, to be sure, 
 when you are in it, an uninteresting city of 
 two-story buildings of coral limestone, right- 
 angled streets, perfectly flat, built on marshy 
 ground, and the gutters are open and unsightly. 
 The sidewalk crossings of the principal streets 
 are peculiar ; they are small bridges thrown 
 over the gutters, but instead of being on the 
 line of the sidewalk, they are set back in the 
 
222 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 side street, so that the heedless pedestrian is 
 likely at any moment to step into the ditch. 
 But the houses are solid ; many of them have 
 pretty courts, and arcaded fronts are frequent. 
 Shabby or elegant, it is thoroughly foreign and 
 picturesque. By daylight it is shabby. The 
 most pleasing view of the town is from the sea, 
 with the castle of San Juan de Ulua in the 
 foreground, and the water-line of arcaded build- 
 ings, with the towers and cathedral dome, 
 behind. But the view of the blue Gulf, with 
 its islands and sails, from the long pier, is as 
 lovely as that from almost any Mediterranean 
 port. The air was delicious, mild and yet not 
 enervating. With the sea on one side and the 
 mountains so near on the other, Vera Cruz 
 ought, with a little engineering skill for drain- 
 age, to be perfectly healthful. But no summer 
 passes without sporadic cases of yellow fever, 
 and once in three years it is epidemic. To my 
 senses the climate was most agreeable, and it 
 was luxury to breathe the air after the thin 
 atmosphere of the table-land. Indeed, I met 
 many foreigners who were charmed with Vera 
 Cruz. I know Americans who go there with- 
 out fear in the summer, for the bathing, and 
 find their stay most agreeable. 
 
 The scene on the plaza, which was brilliantly 
 illuminated with both gas and the electric 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 223 
 
 lights, was exceedingly gay. The strong light 
 brought into relief the cathedral dome and 
 spires, the arcaded shops, and masses of shrubs 
 and flowering plants, and the swaying arms of 
 the whispering palms. It is thronged with 
 promenaders, with loafers, with children, with 
 ladies in fashionable attire, with officers and 
 soldiers and servants — a thoroughly democratic 
 assemblj'. The cool evening is the time for 
 enjoyment and recreation, and everybody was 
 out-of-doors ; ladies in light muslins, armed 
 only with the fan, went round and round arm 
 in arm, chatting and laughing, never the sexes 
 mingling in the tread-mill of the promenade, 
 except in case of family groups : children, small 
 girls and boys too young to be out without 
 their nurses, were jumping the rope and play- 
 ing other noisy games in a part of the plaza till 
 after nine o'clock ; men of the lower orders 
 lounged about clad only in under-shirts and 
 drawers, or their cotton trousers that had the 
 effect of drawers ; the clerks in the shops, 
 dressed in the same summer style, and invari- 
 ably with a cigar in the mouth, waited on their 
 customers in languid indifference. All the wine 
 shops and saloons were open and thriving; 
 small tables encumbered the sidewalks, where 
 the citizens sat in cool costume sipping mild 
 potations. Everybody had the free and easy 
 
224 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 air which is always begotten by confidence in 
 steady good weather. The prominent impres- 
 sion, however, was of the mixed, mongrel race, 
 a population lacking stamina, with Central 
 American morals and Cuban inertia. 
 
 We were called at four o'clock of a foggy 
 morning for the five-o'clock train to Jalapa. 
 This journey is unique, for the whole distance 
 of seventy miles is by tramway, except the first 
 sixteen, to Paso de San Juan, on the Mexican 
 Railway. After a cup of coffee in a cheap cafe 
 by the station, I went to buy my tickets. The 
 agent peremptorily refused to take the Bank of 
 London notes, even at a discount. My servant 
 expostulated with all the officials of the place. 
 We could not think of remaining over in Vera 
 Cruz another whole daj'. No exchange shops 
 were open. Our money was perfectly good. 
 Why then subject travelers to such annoyance? 
 But it was no use to remonstrate, the officials 
 were more than inexorable, they were indiffer- 
 ent; the train was just starting. I happened 
 to remember that I had in my pocket a note of 
 introduction to Colonel Thrailkill, the super- 
 intendent of the Jalapa road. I produced it. 
 No one could read it, and for all they knew it 
 might have been my hotel bill, but it sufficed. 
 With a good nature as unreasonable as the 
 former indifference, we were told to go aboard, 
 and pay when we found the superintendent. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 225 
 
 At San Juan the tram-cars were waiting, 
 two, a first and a second class, each with four 
 mules. Our car was very comfortable, roomy, 
 with broad leather-cushioned seats, open at the 
 sides, with a canopy to keep off the sun. At 
 the signal the mules were let go, and they 
 started on a -run ; they had their ten miles to 
 make, and seemed bound to do it at a spurt. 
 The country was at first level, the track good, 
 but the car swung and swerved at the rapid 
 pace, and our motion created a strong breeze ; 
 the fog was lifting, disclosing a luxuriant vege- 
 tation, palms, cacti, and large sycamore-trees, 
 in form and color like our button-ball. The 
 buzzards were still roosting in the trees, but 
 the convolvuli were opening, and new bird 
 notes were heard in the thickets. Everything 
 was strange, exotic. Every moment a new 
 object for exclamation. A handsome brilliant 
 bird, as large as a hawk, with a long tail, darted 
 from tree to tree with a harsh cry ; it was the 
 papey, a fleshless, useless bird ; equally value- 
 less was the coracoracaa, a smaller bird, like 
 the pheasant ; there was also the calandra, bril- 
 liant yellow ; but most interesting of all the 
 prima vera, a brown warbler, the bird of 
 spring. Here and there, by the track, the Te 
 del campo, a large lizard, hastened to get out of 
 the way. 
 
226 MEXICAN NOTLS. 
 
 For we went thundering on, regardless of 
 beast or bird. The mules have more vim and 
 malicious energy than the steam-engine. Here 
 and there a poor plantation was passed, and 
 the house was invariably an open-work struc- 
 ture of cane, with a heavily thatched roof. 
 
 This is the old national road, the route of 
 General Scott to the city of Mexico, following 
 most of the way the ancient Spanish highway, 
 often paved, and with substantial bridges. The 
 old Spaniards had energy, and built roads and 
 churches ; the Mexicans have let them decay. 
 
 When the fog cleared, the sky was deep blue, 
 and the air delicious. The peak of Orizaba 
 appeared a white mass in the blue horizon, the 
 base hidden by mountain ranges. The Puente 
 National is a fine, picturesque Spanish bridge 
 with parapets, and here is a collection of mean 
 adobe houses, and near them, in a thicket of 
 cacti, the white palace of Santa Anna, falling 
 to ruins. Here he had a considerable planta- 
 tion. We passed in sight also of the battle-field 
 of Cerro Gordo — a cheerless region. The vil- 
 lages on the line are much alike — usually 
 one shabby street — with a mongrel population. 
 The most curious shops are the butchers' ; the 
 meat hangs before the door in long strips, is 
 usually black, and sold by the foot. At Rin- 
 conada, where we met the down train, we 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 227 
 
 stopped an hour for breakfast — a very pala- 
 table meal, with Mexican dishes, that are not 
 bad, if you can make up your mind to them, 
 especially the garnachas, compounded of maize, 
 chopped meat, cheese, chiles, tomatoes, and 
 onions. It is as good as the famous enchilada, 
 which is chopped meat, raisins, almonds, and 
 other condiments rolled inside of a tortilla. 
 The passengers whom we met were covered with 
 dust, and we were in the same state. The road 
 had begun to ascend rapidly, and there were 
 long stretches where we dragged slowly up the 
 grades, in sun and dust, with only occasionally 
 the exhilaration of a dash down - hill. The 
 views became finer — great sweeps of rounded 
 hills, with few trees, and mountains in the 
 distance. Occasionally a hacienda was seen 
 perched on a hill, or the square tower of an old 
 church, but for the most part the country was 
 monotonous in its winter barrenness. Still it 
 was all novel, and our interest in the drive 
 scarcely flagged when, at six o'clock, we gal- 
 loped through the paved streets of Jalapa, and 
 knew that we were 4000 feet above the sea. 
 
 Jalapa, the capital of the State of Vera Cruz, 
 and the residence of the Governor, is an ex- 
 ceedingly interesting and pretty city, well 
 paved, solidly built, picturesquely situated on 
 the foot-hills, and surrounded by giant raoun- 
 
228 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 tains. The region is fertile, and it is just the 
 right elevation for a delightful summer and 
 winter climate. The views from the neighbor- 
 ing hills of the town, the uneven landscape, the 
 semi-tropical vegetation, the snow mountains, 
 are of almost incomparable beauty. The town 
 itself, though the streets are winding, and 
 many of them steep, and the houses have no 
 great architectural pretensions, is clean, thrifty, 
 and has a highly civilized aspect. There are 
 many fine, substantial residences, which make 
 no exterior show, but have lovely interior 
 courts adorned with flowers, and vocal with 
 fountains and the singing of birds. The rich 
 interiors are evidence of wealth and refinement. 
 The cathedral, a noble, handsome building, 
 stands on a pretty plaza, but its situation on 
 the side of a slope gives a unique effect to the 
 interior. The floor, which is beautifully paved 
 with tiles, slopes up to the altar at a decided 
 angle, so that the worshiper, in advancing to 
 the apse, has a sense of " going up to the house 
 of the Lord." From the end of the street on 
 which it stands, and indeed from other streets, 
 there are charming vistas of the country, a 
 country tropical in its foliage, and always with 
 the background of purple mountains and snow 
 domes. The noble Orizaba is the chief attrac- 
 tion, but the long range of the nearer Cofre de 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 229 
 
 Perote, which bars the way to the west, tawny 
 and full of color, may be fairly termed magnifi- 
 cent. Its sharp ridges, 14,000 feet above the 
 sea, are just low enough to escape the crown of 
 perpetual snow. 
 
 The great market-place on Sunday morning 
 presented a very animated spectacle. In the 
 centre of the square, surrounded by arcaded 
 buildings, is the market itself, a structure of 
 pillars and roof : but the traffic was not con- 
 fined to it. The whole plaza and all the sur- 
 rounding corridors and the side streets were 
 covered with goods, merchandise of all sorts, 
 fruits, vegetables, pottery, and swarmed with 
 buyers and sellers. This is the day when the 
 Indians from the mountain villages come in 
 with their grain, tortillas, preserves, basket- 
 work, pottery, and "truck," and we saw here 
 specimens of three or four tribes who adhere 
 to their own dialects, and speak Spanish not 
 at all, or very reluctantly. The Mexican men 
 wore usually white trousers and white shirts, 
 with perhaps a gay serape flung over the shoul- 
 ders. The women, in plain frocks and the in- 
 variable ribosas, add little in the way of color 
 to the scene, and almost nothing of beauty. 
 They are not pretty ; but so productive ! Chil- 
 dren swarmed. And the sad pity of it, to 
 think that they will all grow up and become 
 
230 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 Mexicans ! There was a circus in town, and 
 the members of it were making an advertising 
 parade, riding about through the dense crowd, 
 bespangled, brazen women and harlequin men, 
 greeted with shouts and laughter. There is 
 certainly nothing gloomy about Sunday in Ja- 
 lapa. 
 
 We breakfasted with Colonel Thrailkill, the 
 superintendent of the Jalapa road. The table 
 was set in a veranda opening upon a pretty 
 garden. Our host is a bird-fancier ; but most 
 residents in Mexico fall into this fancy, for in 
 no other land are there birds of more delicious 
 song and exquisite plumage. In shops, in house 
 courts, in hotels, in bath-houses, everywhere 
 one hears the music of caged birds. Dozens 
 of cages hung about the veranda and in the 
 garden, an unrivaled aviary of color and song. 
 There were many brilliant small birds, but the 
 favorite for its song — ■ indeed, the queen of all 
 Mexican singing birds — is the clarin. This is 
 a shapely brown bird, in size and form not un- 
 like the hermit-thrush, but its long, liquid, full- 
 throated note is more sweet and thrilling than 
 any other bird note I have ever heard ; it is 
 hardly a song or a tune, but a flood of melody, 
 elevating, inspiring as the skylark, but with a 
 touch of the tender melancholy of the nightin- 
 gale in the night. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 231 
 
 There was one of these birds filling the court 
 with melody when I went to take a bath in Ja- 
 lapa. Mexico has one evidence of civilization 
 that some other civilized countries lack. In 
 every city, in nearly every town, there are 
 attractive bath-houses. However mean the 
 town may be otherwise, the public bath-bouse 
 is pretty sure to be neat and attractive, and is 
 often highly ornamental and luxurious. There 
 are bathing places of various degrees of cost, 
 some plunges and pools where the populace 
 can take a dip for a tlaco (about a cent and a 
 half), and others more exclusive, where the 
 common charge for hot and cold water, linen, 
 soap, rubbing fibre, and oil is twenty-five cents. 
 There is an inner court, luxuriant and beau- 
 tiful with flowers and tropical foliage, sur- 
 rounded by galleries in two stories, in the 
 arches of whicb stand hundreds of the red 
 flower-pots of the country brilliant with gay 
 flowers. A fountain splashes in the centre, 
 and caged birds, fluttering in the sunlight, 
 sing, and add the element of gayety to the 
 pretty scene. The bathing-rooms, opening on 
 the gallery, are primitive, but clean ; and if 
 they were ruder than they are, the bather has 
 so many senses gratified that in this respect at 
 least he is willing to confess that the Mexicans 
 excel us in civilization and refinement. At 
 
232 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 Cuautla I saw a substitute for the Turkish 
 bath, used sometimes also by our northern In- 
 dians. This was a stone structure, somewhere 
 in the shade of the house enclosure, in shape 
 like a long, low oven, with an opening in front 
 large enough for a person to crawl in. In the 
 interior are placed hot stones, water is poured 
 upon these till the oven is full of steam, and 
 then the patient crawls in, closes the aperture, 
 and takes his steam bath. 
 
 From Jalapa the tramway extends nine 
 miles southwest to Coatepec, which lies 500 
 feet lower than the capital, and enjoys a some- 
 what warmer climate. I went down there and 
 spent some days with American and English 
 friends who are engaged in coffee planting and 
 in the preparation of the berry for the market. 
 Coatepec is a typical Mexican town of the bet- 
 ter sort, where nobody is very rich and nobody 
 very poor. It is quite withdrawn from the 
 world and its excitements — has no newspa- 
 pers, no news, no agitations. The houses are 
 mostly of one story, the streets are broad, well 
 paved, and clean, and the country about is well 
 cultivated. With the exception of the family 
 with whom I stayed, and a Belgian who has 
 lived there many years, I believe there are no 
 foreigners. "Society" can hardly be said to 
 exist, but a club had recently been formed ; in 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 233 
 
 the bare rooms it occupied there were neither 
 newspapers, books, nor any of the common 
 paraphernalia of club life. So far as I could 
 judge, the Mexicans here, who are of the ordi- 
 nary yellow variety, have little intellectual life 
 or ambition, or knowledge of the world. The 
 chief occupation is coffee raising ; all about the 
 town are large and small plantations of it, in- 
 termingled with the banana and the plantain. 
 The coffee-trees are seen in all the town gar- 
 dens; and at this season, in the streets and 
 court-yards, the coffee berry spread on mats 
 was everywhere seen drying in the sun. 
 
 The house where I stayed, perhaps the most 
 commodious in the place, is worth a line of de- 
 scription as typical of the better sort in Mex- 
 ico. On the street it has a solid two-story 
 front, with windows of glass, and is built 
 around three sides of a very pretty court, 
 which has a fountain, tropical plants und flow- 
 ers, and singing birds in cages. Most of the 
 houses have no glass, and the window open- 
 ings, which close with inner shutters, are pro- 
 tected with bars of iron or wood, Spanish fash- 
 ion, and the inmates have the appearance of 
 being imprisoned. A gallery runs round the 
 inner second story of the house I speak of, and 
 is a most agreeable lounging -place day and 
 evening. Here are books, music, the latest 
 
234 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 English and American newspapers. In the 
 sitting-room is a Steinway grand, which in 
 this equable climate always keeps in tune. 
 Every evening when there is music there is 
 an orderly crowd in the street below. From 
 this gallery is one of the most lovely prospects. 
 One looks over the court and the garden be- 
 yond, over the huddled brown roofs of the 
 town, the cathedral towers, the tall trees of the 
 plaza with its arcaded buildings, over the rising 
 nearest foot-hills and their semi-tropical vege- 
 tation, to the vast ridge of the Cofie de Perote, 
 purple against the sky. Almost every feature 
 of the landscape is Italian, and the view is won- 
 derfully like that from the Villa Nardi in Sor- 
 rento of the gardens and amphitheatre of hills. 
 But in one respect it far surpasses the famous 
 Italian landscape. For there to the left rises 
 in the blue sky the great dome of Orizaba, pure 
 white, stainless, towering up like a cloud, its 
 purity glowing in the rosy light of morning, or 
 taking on a purple hue at evening. The place 
 has altogether an air of repose, of stability, of 
 softness, an indescribable charm. 
 
 This region is a paradise for the naturalist as 
 well as the sight-seer. I could see, but cannot 
 describe, hundreds of novel wild flowers and 
 plants — plants aromatic, plants and vines with 
 strange and brilliant blooms, tree-ferns, and all 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 235 
 
 sorts of feathery and graceful growths. My 
 friend had a collection of butterflies and moths 
 dazzling to the eyes of a novice, but of still 
 more interest to the student; his explorations 
 of the hills have discovered many species hith- 
 erto unknown to science. 
 
 Not only the naturalist, but the ordinary 
 traveler, would find much that is interesting in 
 exploring these mountains. In their recesses 
 are villages that retain all the simplicity of 
 primitive communities. I have some coins 
 from one of them, Las Vegas, which reveal 
 this. The subsidiary coinage in Mexico is in a 
 very bad way. Much of it is local, and all of it 
 is worn and defaced beyond recognition. Yet 
 when the government attempted some years 
 ago to call it in and substitute something else, 
 the popular discontent was so great that it was 
 obliged to desist. The commonest popular coin 
 is the tlaco, usually a big round piece of copper 
 worn perfectly smooth. Its current value is a 
 little over a cent and a half. Two "fclacos make 
 a euartilla ; two cuartillas make a medio; two 
 medios make a real ; and two reals make twen- 
 ty-five cents. The inhabitants of Las Vegas, 
 being short of the small' circulating medium, 
 manufacture their own, which is taken and 
 given in all purchases. One of the Las Vegas 
 " coins " that I have is a small square piece of 
 
236 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 soap, stamped with the value. The others are 
 a square and a circular block of wood, over an 
 inch in diameter, rudely whittled out, but 
 stamped with name and value. Each of these 
 passes for a tlaco. This seems to be an ideal 
 sort of money ; any one can have as much as 
 he can make, and it has two advantages, — the 
 wood will last, and the soap will redeem itself 
 in time. 
 
 It is an unexciting life that one would lead at 
 Coatepec amid all this natural beauty. Even 
 the jail, which stands on one side of the plaza, 
 has a friendly aspect. It is a two-story edifice, 
 with pillars supporting the upper gallery. In 
 the upper story is a rude hospital. The lower 
 story consists of one long, obscure room, with 
 a floor of earth, in which all the prisoners are 
 huddled together. The guards pace the corri- 
 dor outside, and watch the inmates through the 
 grated windows. Prison reform has not yet 
 reached Mexico. 
 
 There is one person in Coatepec who has 
 ideas and tastes above his fellows. This is an 
 honest carpenter, who is the antiquarian of the 
 region. In his little stone cottage, overrun and 
 half hidden by vegetation, he has collected 
 Indian relics, stone idols and images, a few 
 manuscripts and books, and a great variety of 
 natural curiosities. The house stands on the 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 237 
 
 slope of a pure and pretty stream that runs 
 through the village, and here he has laid out a 
 garden that is unique. It is a miniature mu- 
 seum out-of-doors, planted with tropical shrubs 
 and flowers, intersected with winding walks, 
 along which stand Indian idols and fragments 
 of antique sculpture, leading to quaint grottoes, 
 paved and set with old tiles, bits of glass, and 
 odd pieces of plate. The whole effect is fan- 
 tastic and curious. This carpenter is an artist 
 as well as antiquarian. A little while before 
 my visit he had the misfortune to lose his 
 third wife. A few days after he brought to 
 my friend a skull and cross-bones, " life " size, 
 beautifully carved in wood — perfect imitation 
 of these emblems of mortality. The carving 
 of these mementos was his grim way of taking 
 consolation in his bereavement. 
 
 The country about Coatepec might well de- 
 tain the traveler for weeks in agreeable excur- 
 sions. The only drawback to riding is that all 
 the roads are paved with round stones — at 
 least all the roads connecting the principal vil- 
 lages. This is no doubt necessary in the rainy 
 season, but it makes rough traveling. We rode 
 one day over the rolling land, up hill and down, 
 half a dozen miles to see the barranca of Te- 
 calo. This is one of the minor barrancas, but 
 it gives a good idea of these peculiar forma- 
 
238 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 tions. A barranca is of the nature of a canon ; 
 that is to say, it is a deep gorge, abruptly sink- 
 ing below the level of the surrounding country, 
 and has a stream at the bottom. 
 
 We had no sign of the barranca of Tecalo 
 until we stood upon its brink, and looked down 
 the rugged chasm a thousand feet. It is not a 
 straight cut in the land, but winding, as if the 
 stream had made it by slow process and irregu- 
 lar flowing, but its rocky sides are nearly per- 
 pendicular. We made our way by a zigzag 
 path down one of the faces to the bottom, 
 where we found a substantial bridge and a 
 clear, rapid stream. Looking up the walls on 
 either side we had a vision of wild and exqui- 
 site beauty. The sky was a narrow strip above. 
 The walls of rock that shut us in were com- 
 pletely clad with vegetation, luxuriant, and 
 wonderful in color. I know nothing to com- 
 pare with it except the Latomia of Syracuse, 
 in Sicily. Every foot of the precipices was 
 covered with creepers, hanging vines, ferns ex- 
 quisite in fineness, a mass of green and gray, 
 in which gleamed flowers of scarlet and of a 
 dozen bright hues, and here and there from 
 ledges hung vegetable cables, ropes swinging 
 freely in the air, with flowering plants at Ihe 
 end, like baskets let down. As we ascended 
 from this bewildering vale of beauty, there 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 239 
 
 was great Orizaba hanging like a thunder- 
 head in the sky. 
 
 Coatepec, Jalapa, all the eastern slope of the 
 great mountains have a delightful winter cli- 
 mate, warmer than the Mexican table-lands by 
 reason of the lower altitude, but, as I have 
 said, not so arid, for the " northers " bring oc- 
 casionally clouds and a damp atmosphere, 
 which freshens the vegetation a little. 
 
 The return down the tramway from Jalapa 
 to Vera Cruz was more rapid than the ascent 
 — three hours shorter in time, and exciting and 
 exhilarating. Whirling down this strange land 
 in an open car, with the mules at a gallop, every 
 mile offering some novel sight, is, I fancy, a 
 unique experience in travel. It was half past 
 four when we came to Vera Cruz, and we had 
 time before nightfall to satisfy all our curiosity 
 about the city. It cannot be said to improve 
 much on acquaintance, but the sea view from 
 the end of the long stone pier is very fine, with 
 the old Castle, and the sailboats and steamers 
 in the harbor. The town also is picturesque 
 from this point, with its church domes and tow- 
 ers and the arcaded and balconied houses on the 
 shore, painted in blue, red, yellow, and green, 
 all faded into harmonious tones. Again we 
 were reminded of Italy. 
 
 At sunset hundreds of buzzards came to 
 
240 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 roost on the cornices of the plaza buildings, 
 and the great dome of the cathedral was liter- 
 ally black with them. Gas and electric light 
 again blazed, and the ceaseless promenading 
 and animation of street life began. Children 
 swarm, ladies in light muslins come out to en- 
 joy the night air, men in white, and as thinly 
 clad as possible, lounge listlessly about. The 
 more we see of the people, the more inferior 
 they seem — an easy-going, poor, mixed race. 
 
 We were up at five for the train. The night 
 had been hot ; with the long windows open on 
 the plaza and sea side, there was not a breath 
 of air — even a sheet was a burden. Till late 
 at night there was noise and gabble in the 
 streets, bells were chiming, and the big bell of 
 the cathedral booming the hours. In the early 
 morning the streets were almost deserted, here 
 and there a cargador in white, or a woman, too 
 early or too late, shuffled along the pavement. 
 The big buzzards on the cathedral dome were 
 beginning to stir in the early light, birds were 
 singing among the whispering palms of the 
 plaza, and paroquets called and screamed af- 
 ter us. 
 
 The road skirts the city and then runs 
 straight to the foot-hills over a plain uninter- 
 esting except from the always picturesque 
 palms. But at Cordova, a busy, pretty town 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 241 
 
 among the mountains, and overlooked by 
 Mount Orizaba, the vegetation is very rich, 
 the air is sweet with orange blossoms, the foli- 
 age is dark, the red coffee berries gleam in the 
 banana plantations, the palm, the yucca, tbe 
 cacti add to the tropical character of the pic- 
 ture, and brilliant flowers and rampant vines 
 lighten and drape the landscape in color and 
 grace. From here to Orizaba the scenery ap- 
 peared more grand than in the descent, the 
 mountains serrated, sharp peaks, blue and 
 lovely in the distance, standing in a jumble, 
 and the snow peak above them always wonder- 
 ful. We drag up through the lovely gorge 
 with the pretty waterfall, make the circle of 
 the great loop in the road, cross a high bridge, 
 pass though several tunnels, and are in the 
 shut-in plain of Orizaba. No description can 
 do justice to this wonderful road. 
 
 Orizaba, which is about 4000 feet above the 
 sea, is a favorite winter resort, but it is too 
 warm in summer for those accustomed to the 
 air of the table-land. It is, however, a bene- 
 ficial change for many from the very rare air 
 of the city of Mexico. The city itself is very 
 well built, has a big and varied market, and an 
 alameda as fine as any in the republic, with 
 splendid trees and charming allees, and is 
 bounded on one side by a swift stream, which 
 
242 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 sweeps the base of a precipitous mountain wall. 
 This situation adds nobility to its loveliness. 
 From my window and balcony at the Hotel La 
 Borda I looked up a clear, rapid stream in a 
 green setting of foliage, with white houses and 
 gardens beyond, a white spire, and a vast back- 
 ground of mountains, the shoulder of Orizaba 
 visible, but not its snow. The snow peak is 
 not in sight from the central part of the city 
 itself. Orizaba is interesting for a few days' 
 sojourn, and pleasant excursions may be made 
 from it into the hills and the lateral valleys, 
 but it is too much shut in for my taste. 
 
 It is a fairly enlightened and well governed 
 city, and has very good schools, where English 
 is taught, after a fashion, and on which the at- 
 tendance is, I believe, compulsory. While I 
 was there, a German, whose knowledge of Eng- 
 lish was very limited, was holding, by the aid 
 of the government, a normal school, to teach 
 teachers how to teach English and German, 
 and he had some eighty-five pupils, old and 
 young, from the various towns in the State of 
 Vera Cruz. 
 
 In traveling here and elsewhere in Mexico, 
 an American is struck with the little deference 
 paid to women. No matter who is present, 
 everybody smokes, at the table, in the cars, 
 even those of the first class, in the horse-cars, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 243 
 
 everywhere, there is no escape from the smoke. 
 But, then, most of the Mexican women smoke 
 also. 
 
 It was now the fifth of March, and signs of 
 spring multiplied; as we ascended the moun- 
 tains the young foliage was almost as bright in 
 hue as ours is in autumn. This drapery of 
 color was very pleasing. We could imagine 
 what Mexico would be in its renewed vegeta- 
 tion. The train moved slowly up the slopes, 
 conquering the height foot by foot. The val- 
 leys deepened, the mountains sunk. When 
 we reached the summit at Boca del Monte, it 
 seemed as if we must have climbed to the top 
 of the world. But lo ! there in the sky was 
 the white dome of Orizaba, apparently just as 
 high above us as ever. 
 
IV. — MORELIA AND PATZCUAEO. 
 
 A branch of the Mexican National Rail- 
 way (which is all narrow guage) runs west 
 from the city over the mountains to Toluca, 
 thence turns northwest to Acambaro ; at this 
 station a branch runs southwest to Morelia and 
 Patzcuaro ; the main line continues northward, 
 crosses the Mexican Central at Celaya, and 
 goes on to San Miguel de Allende. From this 
 point it is expected to continue through San 
 Luis Potosi to Saltillo, completing the connec- 
 tion with the north. When this gap of 350 
 miles is spanned, there will be an all-rail route 
 from San Antonio to the city of Mexico, and 
 the railway distance between the two cities will 
 be shortened by some 800 miles. 
 
 The road out of the Mexican basin followed 
 the winding narrow valley of a pretty stream, 
 offering at first pleasing and then grand views, 
 until at the station of Salazar it reaches the 
 summit and an altitude of 10,027 feet. At 
 this station it is always cool, there is a frost 
 every night in the year, and the passengers 
 who got out for a glass of pulque or a cup 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 245 
 
 of coffee and a tortilla were cheered by the 
 warmth of a stove in the agent's shanty. This 
 was the former diligence route, and this moun- 
 tain region was the scene only three or four 
 years ago of numerous robberies and murders. 
 The diligence was certain to be attacked if it 
 carried passengers who were suspected of hav- 
 ing valuables. The robbers in all cases were 
 the Mexican citizens of the neighboring vil- 
 lages, and never the Indians. These Mexicans, 
 who seem to have been sustained by public 
 opinion, simply varied the monotony of their 
 ordinary occupations by highway robbery. If 
 there were any political disturbance, throwing 
 the administration into confusion, these good 
 people would undoubtedly take to the road 
 again. Here, as elsewhere in the republic, the 
 more trustworthy part of the population are 
 Indians and not the hybrids. 
 
 From the summit the descent was rapid. 
 Twilights are brief in this latitude, and it was 
 dusk at a little after seven (we had left Mexico 
 at five), when we came to the station in the 
 plain of Toluca, and took the tram-cars for the 
 city, distant a mile and a half. Toluca, one of 
 the most beautifully situated and pleasing cities 
 in Mexico, is seated on gentle hills rising out 
 of an extensive and fertile plain, and is about 
 8500 feet above the sea. 
 
246 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 We were set down at the hotel Lion de Oro, 
 as the decorated sign which the French proprie- 
 tor has brought with him testified. This hotel, 
 which is of two stories, built about a court, 
 with spacious rooms, prepossessed us in favor of 
 the city, for it is neat and comfortable, and by 
 far the best and cleanest hotel we found in the 
 republic. 
 
 The following morning was splendid, the air 
 elastic, inspiring. I do not know which most 
 to admire, the view of the town from a neigh- 
 boring hill, or the view of the lovely valley and 
 its guardian mountains from the terrace. The 
 snow mountain of Toluca, whence the runners 
 in the old Spanish days and the runners now 
 bring the snow for cooling drinks, is a beauti- 
 ful object in this clear atmosphere. The city 
 is well paved and substantially built, has some 
 fine old churches and towers, and is not only 
 the cleanest city in Mexico, but is cleaner than 
 any city in the United States. One of the 
 small features of the place that attracted at- 
 tention was queer frames, skeleton structures, 
 like the electric light stands, with small tanks 
 on top. One of these stood in the Governor's 
 garden next door to the hotel. The frame was 
 sixty or seventy feet high and gayly painted ; 
 on top was a platform with a gay railing sup- 
 porting the tank, and this was surmounted by 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 247 
 
 a pagoda canopy, also brilliantly painted, and 
 ornamented with images of large gilded but- 
 terflies on each corner. These things are the 
 fashion here, and there is a strife between the 
 wealthy citizens to have the highest and gau- 
 diest. Water is pumped into the tanks, and we 
 were told that they are used as shower-baths. 
 
 The town has a small plaza prettil}' planted, 
 with two fountains and an abundance of flow- 
 ers ; at this season it was carpeted with violets 
 and daisies. One of the most interesting pieces 
 of architecture is a chapel attached to one of 
 the ancient churches, which has a dome cov- 
 ered with colored mosaics very Oriental in 
 character. The market hall is a large, long 
 building, with the roof supported on heavy 
 Egyptian columns, painted in high colors — an- 
 other of the many Oriental suggestions in Mex- 
 ico. In the arcades about the market square 
 are many little eating and drinking shops. 
 The place on Sunday morning was crowded 
 with traffickers, and the objects for sale were 
 spread all about — fruits, meats, vegetables, 
 all sorts of merchandise, coarse and brilliantly 
 painted pottery, rope like the Manila, made 
 from the maguey, and pretty basket-work and 
 mats. Large numbers of Indians had come in 
 from the mountain villages. They were usu- 
 ally short, thick-chested, and heavy-limbed, and 
 
248 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 with black coarse hair and broad faces and high 
 cheek-bones — very Indian in appearance. The 
 women were clad in two pieces of blue cloth, 
 wrapped about the body so as to leave the arms 
 and legs free and the breasts convenient to the 
 calls of their offspring. Every woman was nurs- 
 ing a baby, and even the little girls commonly 
 had charge of a more helpless specimen of their 
 race. I suppose that these aborigines are sub- 
 stantially what they were when Cortez con- 
 quered the country, with the same native vigor 
 and inferior semi-barbarous aspect, with their 
 habits perhaps a little modified by a pseudo- 
 Christianity. 
 
 In the afternoon, an unusual thing for the sea- 
 son, there was a brief thunder-shower with hail, 
 with loose high-sailing clouds and fine effects of 
 shadows on the plain. We saw the sun set 
 from a sharp hill overlooking the town, where 
 there are the earthworks of what may have 
 been a fort. The prospect was superb, one of 
 the rare views of the world, over the flat-roofed 
 town out upon the vast green plain, the moun- 
 tains lovely in the slant light, and the peak of 
 Toluca rosy. The notable and surprising thing, 
 however, was the high and careful culture. The 
 plain was like a garden, the only lines of de- 
 marcation being rows of the maguey m plant. 
 We had not expected such careful agriculture 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 249 
 
 in Mexico. The great squares of brown earth, 
 ready for the seed or newly sown, were tilled 
 as finely as garden mould, and alternated pleas- 
 ingly with the vast patches of green wheat and 
 barley. We were told that the weeds in the 
 wheat fields are pulled up by hand, and the 
 whole country gave evidence of this minute 
 personal cultivation. The effect of this high 
 culture was to give a very refined landscape. 
 The view was very extensive, and grew more 
 and more attractive with the light on the 
 church towers and the round hills in the val- 
 ley ; and when at last a rainbow spanned the 
 plain, over which thin mists were trailing, the 
 prospect was nothing less than enchanting. 
 This is one of the richest valleys in the repub- 
 lic. It produces a winter crop by irrigation, 
 and a summer crop in the rainy season. 
 
 The patience of the traveler is tried in two 
 ways on the railway to Morelia — by the un- 
 comfortable cars with small windows, from 
 which it is difficult to see anything, and the 
 time consumed. We were twelve and a half 
 hours in going about two hundred miles. After 
 emerging from the fertile plain of Toluca we 
 ascended into a broken country, the road rising 
 and falling among the hills with many a long 
 loop and curve. Many of these curves were 
 unnecessary feats of engineering, laid out when 
 
250 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 the builders expected the promised bonus of 
 ten thousand dollars a mile ; the curves are 
 now being reduced, and the road shortened 
 proportionally. The view was interesting, and 
 often wide and glorious, the mountains fine in 
 form, and the valleys irrigated, green, and 
 lovely. Even the uncultivated spaces were 
 covered with wild growth, among them a very 
 sweet-scented acacia-bush with bright yellow 
 flowers. We breakfasted at Flor de Maria, a 
 neat station with a good table, and took coffee 
 at four o'clock at Acambaro in a station-shanty 
 kept by Mexican Jim, who has the reputation 
 among foreigners of being probably the most 
 honest Mexican now living. He was for many 
 years the trusted body-servant of General Mc- 
 Clellan during his Northwestern explorations. 
 Toward evening we ran along the shore of 
 Lake Cuitzco, a large body of water, contain- 
 ing many islands, and surrounded by noble 
 mountains graceful in form. It seemed to me 
 more beautiful than Lake George or Lake 
 Winnipiseogee ; but perhaps the luminous 
 warm atmosphere enhanced its beauty, for 
 Mexico certainly has this advantage over our 
 Northern landscapes in an atmosphere full of 
 color, which drapes hills and valleys like a 
 delicate garment, as in southern Italy and Sic- 
 ily. We came to the Morelia station after 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 251 
 
 dark, and took the horse-railway to the town 
 and the hotel Michoacan. 
 
 Morelia, the present capital of the State of 
 Michoacan, is a city of, I should think, fifty 
 thousand to sixty thousand inhabitants, bright, 
 cheerful, well built, surrounded by a lovely 
 hilly country, and at an elevation of about 
 fifty-five hundred feet. I am conscious that I 
 am open to the charge of enthusiasm in general 
 expressions of admiration for this charming and 
 interesting city, and I have hardly space in this 
 paper for details to make good my partiality. 
 It is unnecessary to go elsewhere for a more 
 delicious climate than we found there in the 
 month of March. The charm of the air is in- 
 describable, so fresh, so balmy, so full of life, 
 days of strong, genial sun, nights of mild seren- 
 ity, so dry and temperate that we sat in the 
 public square at midnight without need of a 
 wrap. 
 
 The night of our arrival the town seemed to 
 be en fete. The large Zocolo, or principal 
 plaza, prettily laid out in flower beds and wind- 
 ing walks and fine trees, seats and music stands, 
 with several fountains, was gayly illuminated 
 with Chinese lanterns and thronged with prom- 
 enaders. In the streets and open spaces were 
 erected hundreds of stands for the sale of 
 sweets and native edibles, lighted by flaming 
 
252 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 torches, which threw a fantastic light upon the 
 strange groups about them. These street ven- 
 ders are always to be seen at night cooking 
 their indescribable " messes " in the open air, 
 and many of the inhabitants seem to take their 
 suppers regularly at these cheap stands. In 
 the pagoda a fine military band was playing 
 the music of Beethoven and Wagner. It was 
 the famous band of the Eighth Regiment, the 
 nucleus of that great orchestra which made 
 such a musical sensation at the New Orleans 
 Exposition. The air was sweet with the odor 
 of the night-blooming jasmine. In respect of 
 its music, its gardens, cultivation of flowers, 
 and its simple architecture, Morelia shows a 
 high degree of civilization. 
 
 I shall speak of some of the peculiar features 
 of the place without any attempt at exhaustive 
 or systematic description. The hotel accom- 
 modation is inadequate, and the restaurant fre- 
 quented by strangers is third class. The new 
 hotel, slowly rising room by room, on the plaza, 
 promises to change all this. The cathedral has 
 massive towers and great domes, and although 
 of the Spanish composite order of ai'chitecture, 
 is a noble building, the finest in Mexico. In 
 full moonlight, or in the rosy light of sunset, it 
 is wonderfully beautiful. In the large tower 
 hangs the monster bell, which is rarely sounded, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 253 
 
 but there are many others of moderate size 
 which are continually chiming. All these bells, 
 and indeed nearly all the bells in the republic, 
 are remarkable for sweetness and softness of 
 tone. It is very rarely that one hears a harsh 
 bell. They are exceedingly melodious and 
 pleasing. It is sometimes explained that this 
 is due to the mixture of silver in the bell-metal, 
 and that the new bells are cast from old metal. 
 I believe that the chief reason why the Mexican 
 bells are so much more musical than ours is 
 that the Mexican bells are artistically made, 
 shaped with reference to tone, thin at the edge, 
 each one a work of art intelligently manipu- 
 lated, not mechanically cast without reference 
 to the sound it shall produce. The great bells 
 are struck with a clapper, and not swung. 
 There would be much less objection to the use 
 of church bells in the United States — the 
 harsh and barbarous jangle which shocks the 
 Sunday stillness — if our bells had any of the 
 musical quality of the Mexican. The houses 
 of Morelia are generally plain and mostly of 
 one story, but in the principal streets and 
 about the plaza are many buildings of fine pro- 
 portions, and simple, noble facades, with elegant 
 carvings in low relief. Even the new buildings 
 in light cream-colored stone preserve the old 
 elegance, the architects being as yet untouched 
 
254 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 by the modern craze for monstrous roofs, oddi- 
 ty, and over-ornamentation. 
 
 This is not the best season for fruits and 
 flowers, but the spacious market was well sup- 
 plied with tropical fruits, great variety of ba- 
 nanas and plantains, oranges, mangos, the sev- 
 eral sorts of the zapota family, the chirimoya, 
 the granadilla, and so forth ; and the abundance 
 of flowers of the common sort — roses, carna- 
 tions, and sweet-peas — testify to the popular 
 love of them. 
 
 At the end of the main street begins the 
 Calzada — literally, the " shod-place." Here, 
 on and near an open square, are the bath-houses 
 — cheap swimming tanks for the populace — 
 and the decorated courts and apartments for the 
 more wealthy. Not far off is a most humane 
 institution — a horse-bath — a large deep reser- 
 voir, entered by an inclined plane, where the 
 horses are taken and enjoy a refreshing swim. 
 The Calzada is half a mile of large ash-trees 
 arched over a wide paved trottoir, with a con- 
 tinuous row of high-backed stone benches on 
 each side. It is a famous place for promenad- 
 ing in the late afternoon. The drive runs on 
 each side, fronted by a row of low, plain resi- 
 dences with pretty courts and flower-gardens. 
 Upon some of the walls we saw the gorgeous 
 camelina (or Bourganvilla) vine, the terminal 
 leaf like a flower, some red and others purple. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 255 
 
 The stroller, who is detained by the pleasant- 
 ness of this shaded Calzada, is surprised to find 
 at the end of it new wonders — an open, tree- 
 planted space ; in front of him a picturesque 
 old convent-church with quaint towers, and to 
 the right the great arches of aqueducts and en- 
 trancing vistas of forest and mountains. As lie 
 advances step by step and the view opens, his 
 wonder increases. The place is unique, bewil- 
 dering. The charm of the party-colored church 
 is increased by rows of ancient cedars in front, 
 which all lean slanting across its facade, as if 
 swept by a strong wind. Some say that an 
 earthquake gave these venerable trees this cant. 
 To the right, paths lead under the arches of 
 the aqueduct to the Alameda. The aqueduct, 
 reminding one of the noble structures that 
 stride across the Roman Campagna, comes in 
 from the mountains, and skirts the Alameda, 
 while a branch at a sharp angle runs toward 
 the town. Thus a series of noble interlacing 
 arches is presented to the eye as one approaches 
 from the Calzada, and the view through these 
 is so novel and beautiful that the spectator is 
 literally spell-bound with delight. The glimpse 
 of forests and purple hills through the arches 
 is lovely, and the perspective of the giant aque- 
 duct across the plain to the mountains is noble. 
 
 Passing under the arches, we enter the Ala- 
 
256 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 meda, which is unlike any other in the world. 
 It is at once a forest and a tangled garden, 
 once trim and well kept, now more beautiful 
 than ever in its neglected luxuriance and remi- 
 niscence of former order. It has the charm of 
 some old garden of a once magnificent estate. 
 The grounds are a couple of miles in circum- 
 ference, circled by a charming drive. The 
 original plan seems to have been paths like the 
 spokes of a wheel from a " round " in the 
 centre, but outside this round there are other 
 centres and intersecting walks, offering in every 
 direction the most charming vistas, through 
 arching trees and vines and allees of flowers and 
 tropical foliage. Although this park is public 
 ground, individuals have obtained the privilege 
 of living here and cultivating vegetable gardens 
 and flowers, and here and there the wanderer 
 comes across a half -ruined cottage hidden in 
 the rampant vegetation, surrounded by hedges 
 of roses, acres of sweet-peas, acres of carnations, 
 a wilderness of scent and bloom. Crumbling 
 monuments, circular seats of stone about the 
 ruins of a fountain, pretty arbors, grass-grown 
 paths — all formality lost in the neglect of man 
 and the kindly luxuriance of nature. Such 
 glorious foliage, such an inspiring, sparkling 
 air, such a tender blue in the sky ! I thought 
 at the time that I had seen nothing of the kind 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 257 
 
 lovelier in the world. And the whole scene is 
 couched with the pathos of neglect and decay. 
 
 On the afternoon of Shrove-Tuesday all the 
 city was out en fete. A band was playing in 
 the Calzada ; its benches were filled ; its pave- 
 ment was thronged. It was a fete of the com- 
 mon people, only now and then members of the 
 better class mingling with the throng or pass- 
 ing in carriages. All the women of this class 
 were invariably overdressed in exceedingly bad 
 taste, in flamboyant colors of blue and green. 
 Some very young girls appeared, mincing along 
 in ridiculous costume — silk gowns made in 
 the waist exactly like those of grown women, 
 but with short pleated skirts, long silk stock- 
 ings, and white satin shoes. There were a 
 few maskers and mummers rushing through 
 the crowd in fantastic costumes, but the mass 
 of the people were of the peasant class. And 
 what a kaleidoscopic scene it was of shifting 
 oddity and color — every complexion invented 
 by man, from black to cream — black hybrids, 
 yellow hybrids, Spanish types, Indian types — 
 all a jumble of miscegenation, in bright se- 
 rapes, graceful ribosas, big hats, wonderfully 
 decorated trousers; and most notable of all, 
 the dandies of the city, slender-legged, effemi- 
 nate young milksops, the fag-end of a decayed 
 civilization, without virility or purpose. I no- 
 
258 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 ticed that every woman, every child, and some 
 of the men of the lower class were marked on 
 the forehead with the sign of the cross in lamp- 
 black, and following the throng into the chapel, 
 I saw the priests affixing this mark of conse- 
 cration to the brows of the devout. It was 
 altogether an orderly, polite, pleasing crowd, 
 amusing itself simply and heartily in the sun- 
 shine. Nearly everybody was nibbling a head 
 of lettuce. The Morelia lettuce is trained 
 to grow in long blanched heads, and is 
 the tenderest and sweetest in the world. It is 
 delicious eaten without any condiment. All 
 about the place piles of it were for sale, and 
 each head was decorated with a scarlet poppy. 
 These people have an artistic eye for color and 
 effect. In the Alameda the scene was fully as 
 picturesque, if less animated. In all the allies 
 were seen pretty family groups, gay companies 
 picnicking under the trees, and making merry 
 with the simplest fare. That night, with mu- 
 sic and moonlight in the balmy air, the plaza 
 was as gay as a theatre ; the common people 
 were cooking and eating a sort of Shrove-Tues- 
 day cake, tortillas fried and sprinkled with 
 sugar and grated nutmeg and cinnamon ; in- 
 numerable little fires of soft wood in elevated 
 iron braziers cast a fantastic light upon the 
 motley groups. These people have the secret 
 of enjoyment at small expense. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 259 
 
 Morelia has a thriving state college in the 
 nature of a general school for boys of all grades 
 and ages, having a well-ordered library, mostly 
 ecclesiastical, but with a fair collection of 
 Greek and Latin classics, and some interesting 
 old Spanish books. No attempt is made to 
 keep up with modern literature. 
 
 Morelia is apparently well ordered, and the 
 State of Michoacan is at present peaceful. 
 But I could not find that the people, though 
 there is nominally general suffrage, have any- 
 thing to do with the government, or take any 
 interest in politics. Officers are retained or 
 elected as dictated by the central personal 
 government. It was the observation of Amer- 
 ican and English residents that the elections 
 are a farce. Whatever votes are registered on 
 election day, the result is predetermined. I 
 was told of the case of a foreigner who was 
 employing a couple of hundred men in a min- 
 ing operation which would be seriously inter- 
 rupted if the men took a day or two off to vote. 
 He stated his case to a government official, and 
 was told that he might cast the votes of the 
 men himself ; and this he did. If the most of 
 the officials, including the judges, are not 
 venal, they are much belied by common report. 
 Foreigners engaged in business reckon as part 
 of their ordinary and necessary expenses money 
 
260 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 paid to judges and other officials to secure sim- 
 ple justice. In mentioning this I only repeat 
 common talk. The Mexicans themselves rarely 
 have confidence in each other. 
 
 A great complaint throughout the republic is 
 the rapacity of the customs and other officials. 
 There is little uniformity as to duties exacted. 
 There are, as before said, not only the national 
 duties, but duties on the border of each state, 
 and the entrance to each city. The laws seem 
 to be arbitrarily changed by the central au- 
 thority, and the regulations are exceedingly 
 vexatious to business men, who never know 
 what to depend on. 
 
 The republic sequestrated the monasteries 
 and nunneries, and confiscated most of the 
 church property. It also forbade all public re- 
 ligious processions, and the wearing in public 
 of clerical garments. The priests are there- 
 fore not generally distinguishable by their 
 dress. In Morelia, however, owing to the in- 
 tense ecclesiasticism of its population, this rule 
 was never severely enforced, and the priests 
 retained a clerical garb. I think lately that 
 there is visible in the country at large a little 
 relaxation of severity against ecclesiasticism. 
 If common report is accepted, the lives of most 
 of the priests are not morally reputable. It 
 would be unjust to take street gossip as final 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 261 
 
 evidence of the morality of a people ; but some 
 facts are indisputable. As a rule the Indians 
 are not formally married, but they are said to 
 be generally faithful in their domestic rela- 
 tions. For the ordinary Mexicans marriage is 
 difficult, because of its expense and the many 
 vexatious requirements. Informal relations are 
 therefore common. In the higher classes it is 
 said that the state of morals is little better 
 than in the lower, but intercourse between the 
 sexes is hedged about by the old Spanish cus- 
 toms. Women are watched and secluded. 
 Chances of acquaintance are rare. The theory 
 is that couples who are to marry never see 
 each other alone till after the marriage cere- 
 mony. But human nature is human nature as 
 well in Mexico as elsewhere, and opportuni- 
 ties are found or made. Idle young men and 
 equally idle young women, who neither read 
 nor work, will exercise their ingenuity. 
 
 Courting is an elaborate science, and has a 
 literature and code of its own. I saw one after- 
 noon a slender young gentleman, in the modi- 
 fied Mexican costume of the dandy of to-day, 
 leaning against a column of an arcade on the 
 plaza, and ogling and making signs toward a 
 window in the second story of a house diago- 
 nally across from where he stood. My compan- 
 ion, who knew the young gentleman, offered to 
 
262 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 engage him in conversation, while I sauntered 
 along and looked up to the balcony, at the open 
 window of which sat the young lady who was 
 replying to the signals of her lover. The 
 young man was " playing the bear." Every- 
 body who passed knew it, and accepted as a 
 thing of course this semi-public furtive court- 
 ship. The lovers were using the sign-manual 
 of the deaf-mutes. Their courtship had been 
 going on for a year. It might continue for 
 two or three years longer, and then, if the 
 parents consented, it might end in marriage. 
 In theory the young people would never have 
 an opportunity of meeting until such time as 
 the parents arrange the betrothal, when the 
 young man would be admitted to the house, 
 and see his sweetheart in the presence of her 
 relatives. In point of fact, he would come at 
 night, especially if the night were dark, and 
 stand under her window and talk with her, 
 bring her flowers and fruit, exchange notes, 
 and perhaps climb up and kiss her hand. 
 Generally the lover bribes the servant to carry 
 messages, and secretly to admit the lover to 
 the apartment of his mistress. The young la- 
 dies are very devout in attendance on church 
 services, for to church the lovers go also, and 
 while the demure maid is kneeling beside her 
 duefia or her mother, the young gentleman is 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 263 
 
 kneeling against a pillar near by, and the two 
 are talking with their fingers. When the 
 apartments of the family of the beloved are on 
 the ground-floor, courtship is carried on more 
 satisfactorily at night through the window-bars. 
 This policy of repression and seclusion, of dis- 
 trust of the honor and virtue of women, has its 
 natural result. Courtship becomes intrigue, 
 and clandestine meetings are always more dan- 
 gerous than open intercourse. Lovers are pro- 
 verbially ingenious. There is on sale every- 
 where and in universal use a cheaply printed 
 little pamphlet entitled " El Secretario de los 
 Amantes." It is the guide and hand-book of 
 lovers. It contains the language of flowers, the 
 significance of the varied wearing and hand- 
 ling of the sombrero, the language of the fan, 
 the language of fruits, the meaning of the va- 
 ried use of the handkerchief, emblems for de- 
 signating the hours of day and night in making 
 appointments, the use of the numerals in cipher 
 writing, several short chapters on the conduct 
 of a love affair, and the deaf-mute alphabet 
 for one hand. This literary gem seems to be 
 more studied than any other in the republic. 
 
 On the 12th of March we took the train for 
 Lagonilla (a distance of some twenty miles, or 
 two hours in time), then the end of the rail. 
 The road is now finished to Lake Patzcuaro. 
 
264 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 The morning, as usual, was lovely, the air light, 
 warm, superb. We had a fair view of Morelia 
 as we left it and ascended ; its domes and tow- 
 ers and situation in the plain gave it an Ori- 
 ental appearance, and suggested, without much 
 resembling it, Damascus. The country was 
 irrigated in spots, and the vivid green patches 
 with the hills and trees made a charming land- 
 scape. 
 
 At Lagonilla our party of seven had char- 
 tered the four-wheeled diligence, a Concord 
 coach, at a cost of twelve dollars, for the drive 
 of fifteen miles, in three hours, over the wretch- 
 ed road to Patzcuaro. A high wind was blow- 
 ing, and the way was exceedingly dusty. In 
 all this region in the month of March a wind 
 from the southwest arises about ten o'clock, 
 and increases in violence all day till sunset, 
 when it dies away. The country was rolling, 
 much broken, cultivated in irrigated patches, 
 the fine mountains in the distance. We passed 
 through two or three paved, picturesque, and 
 dirty villages. As we ascended, the weather 
 grew cooler, the wind increased in force. The 
 road was very bad, full of stones, bowlders, 
 and pitch-holes, in places almost impassable. 
 The line of the railway was most of the time 
 in sight, and at intervals we encountered gangs 
 of workmen throwing up slight embankments. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 265 
 
 The mode of working was peculiar. No wheel- 
 barrows were used. Each workman had a 
 small piece of matting or cloth about as big as 
 a large dinner napkin. This he filled with dirt 
 in the trenches, took up by the corners, and 
 carried up and emptied on the embankment. 
 Occasionally he would take up a chunk of earth 
 in his hands. The pay of laborers was twenty- 
 five cents a day. The effort to make them use 
 wheelbarrows in grading had failed (many of 
 the laborers carried the barrows on their heads 
 after they had filled them), and the engineers 
 insisted that the men accomplished more work 
 in a day than a like gang would with barrows. 
 The reason was that time is lost in filling the 
 barrows and wheeling them up the roundabout 
 plank inclined planes ; the laborers run up 
 and down the embankment quickly, and move 
 more dirt in a day than by the method in use 
 with us. 
 
 Two miles outside of Patzcuaro we struck a 
 wide road paved with small bowlders which 
 nearly shook the coach to pieces. No sort of 
 riding could be greater torture. The village 
 lies in a hollow, a league from the lake, parts 
 of which only are visible from certain eleva- 
 tions in the town. If it lay in sight of the 
 lake, it would have one of the most beautiful 
 situations possible. The town is sui generis, 
 
2(36 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 primitive and solid, and as yet very little af- 
 fected by intercourse with the outside world. 
 The new railway station is on the shore of the 
 lake, two or three hundred feet lower than the 
 town, and a couple of miles distant from the 
 hollow in which it nestles. It has a large 
 plaza, shaded by splendid ash-trees, and sur- 
 rounded by arcades and colonnades, in which 
 are very inferior shops. Friday is market-day, 
 but there was no great display, the chief sellers 
 being Indians from the neighboring villages, 
 who brought in pottery, tortillas, and wilted 
 vegetables. On a second plaza of good size, 
 which has trees and large water-tanks like the 
 larger one, stands the hotel Concordia, a cheer- 
 ful house with an inner court, and flowers and 
 shrubs in red pots, and a wretched restaurant. 
 The roofs of the town are tiled, and most of 
 the houses, being of one story, have project- 
 ing cornices of wood with supporting beams. 
 Judging by the number of old churches and 
 suppressed monasteries, the place had once con- 
 siderable ecclesiastical importance. Some of 
 the churches have tbe beauty that is given by 
 towers and archaic statuary and the mellow 
 colors of faded reds and yellows. One of the 
 suppressed convents, with a church attached, 
 has a pretty Italian sort of court, sweet with 
 the perfume of orange blossoms — a meditative 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 267 
 
 place of cloistered seclusion. In its demesne I 
 saw two La Marque rose-trees, fully twelve feet 
 high, with stems five inches in diameter, perfect 
 little trees, the umbrella- shaped tops covered 
 with roses. The town is irregular and hill} 7 , 
 but all paved very roughly. On its highest 
 elevation is a third open place, planted with 
 noble trees, and fronted by the grim walls and 
 gaunt church of an extinct monastery. On a 
 hill to the westward is a ruined church, which 
 is approached by a broad avenue of superb old 
 ash-trees — a tree which attains great dignity 
 in this region — and lined with prayer stations. 
 Everywhere are the signs of a former haughty 
 ecclesiastical domination, which perhaps reached 
 its acme of cost and splendor in the days of 
 Philip II. 
 
 Patzcuaro gave few evidences of enterprise 
 or business life, but it has many well - to - do 
 citizens of cultivated manners and kindly hos- 
 pitality. To some of these gentlemen we were 
 indebted for many favors : they procured for 
 us horses and mules ; they planned excursions, 
 and accompanied us on them ; they brought us 
 sweetmeats ; they entertained us with the tin- 
 kle of guitars, and they were very solicitous 
 about undue exertion or exposure, and the vio- 
 lation of their sanitary rules. One of the rules 
 was never to bathe after a ride on horseback, 
 
268 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 not even to -wash the face or the hands. It 
 was considered very dangerous. These people 
 knew nothing of the world, very little of the 
 republic of Mexico, were to the last degree pro- 
 vincial, but had all the elaborate courtesy of 
 manner that is called Spanish. 
 
 The inhabitants I suppose are generally poor, 
 and live closely, but in a week's sojourn there 
 we saw little abject poverty, or what was con- 
 sidered so there. The traders are sharp and 
 not much to be depended on, the mechanics 
 are dilatory, the temper of the whole people 
 is that of procrastination. We saw very lit- 
 tle drunkenness. The people drink to some 
 extent pulque and a mild beer, and perhaps 
 some strong liquors, but usually coffee, water, 
 and drinks mildly flavored with limes and 
 oranges. 
 
 Perhaps this is as good a place as any to say 
 that Mexico, in my observation, notwithstand- 
 ing its facilities for making intoxicating bever- 
 ages from the cane and the maguey, and the 
 absence of all restricting legislation, is generally 
 a temperate country. In some regions much 
 pulque is drank, and often much aguardiente 
 (a fiery sort of high wine), and in the purlieus 
 of the city of Mexico I saw many drunken men 
 and women ; but I believe the great body of 
 the people, like the Spaniards in Spain, are 
 essentially temperate. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 269 
 
 One of our first walks out of the town was 
 three quarters of a mile to the top of a hill, 
 where there is a long stone bench and a view of 
 the lake. It is a favorite resort of the towns- 
 people. Here on one occasion we encountered 
 a party of revelers making too free with the 
 bottle ; but this was exceptional. From this 
 elevation we went on a mile further to the top 
 of a mountain (which had two years ago an 
 unfavorable reputation as the lookout of brig- 
 ands), overlooking the town, the lake, long 
 ranges of mountains, and a great stretch of 
 country. 
 
 The lake is irregular in shape, perhaps 
 twenty miles in its widest diameter, filled 
 with islands, and surrounded by shapely and 
 noble mountains. On two of the islands are 
 churches and fishing villages. The fields on 
 the border are highly tilled. I counted as 
 many as sixteen villages in sight. The view 
 was inexpressibly lovely. The lake can be 
 compared with any of our finest in beauty of 
 outline, and it surpasses most of them in moun- 
 tain surroundings. In its contour, steep hills, 
 signs of an ancient and decayed civilization in 
 villages and church towers, it has more likeness 
 to the Italian lakes than to any in the United 
 States, and the enveloping atmosphere has a 
 color and warmth which ours usually want. 
 
270 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 On our walk we picked as many as thirty varie- 
 ties of wild flowers. 
 
 At Patzcuaro is sold a great quantity of In- 
 dian pottery, made at Tzintzuntzan and other 
 villages, mostly in the shape of water jars and 
 coolers. These utensils, even the most rude in 
 finish and the cheapest, are almost invariably 
 beautiful, one might say classic forms ; and 
 made of red clay, well baked, they have a color 
 rivaling Pompeiian ware. Some of the jars 
 are of enormous size, as big as those described 
 in the story of the Forty Thieves in the " Ara- 
 bian Nights," and each one capable of contain- 
 ing and concealing a man. The vase is often 
 ornamented with geometric designs in faint 
 dark color, suggesting the Greek taste and skill. 
 I found in Mexico a great variety of excellent 
 common pottery, exceedingly cheap, usually 
 ornamented, sometimes with barbaric tints in 
 colors, but always effective. The most barbaric 
 ornamentation has an instinct for effect in it 
 which is truly artistic ; in the crudest ware 
 with the most splashy decoration there is some- 
 thing pleasing, varied, artistic, a native grace 
 which is wanting in what we call civilized 
 work. At Teluca we purchased plates of a 
 lovely cream-color, with quaint designs entirely 
 Persian in style. At Patzcuaro we found by 
 chance, for it was not displayed for sale, some- 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 271 
 
 thing that interested us more than anything 
 else made in Mexico. This was a true irides- 
 cent ware. The specimens we obtained were 
 small round and rectangular plates. The lustre 
 is the true Saracenic, Alhambra, or Gubbio 
 lustre, the real iridescence, shimmering, shift- 
 ing colors in changing lights, ruby, green, blue. 
 Would it not be singular if this lost art were 
 preserved in Mexico ? The ware is rude. 
 The makers of it have not the certainty of pro- 
 ducing a particular color in a picture which 
 distinguishes the Gubbio work, and it lacks the 
 elegance and the glaze, the solidity and fine- 
 ness, of the Alhambra tiles. But it is genuine 
 iridescence. The plates are exceedingly thin 
 and brittle. The lustre seems to be metallic, 
 of copper, and the effect to be produced by sub- 
 jecting the ware to an exceedingly high tem- 
 perature, a firing so fierce that the clay is ap- 
 parently disintegrated, and has lost its ringing 
 quality. 
 
 It was impossible during our stay to obtain 
 definite information as to the place of its manu- 
 facture. It might be made, some one thought, 
 in the city of Puebla, but pueblo is the general 
 name for an Indian village, and the seller, when 
 questioned, was doubtful. Several Mexican 
 gentlemen of intelligence assured me ihat it 
 came from Santa Fe, a small Indian village on 
 
272 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 the north shore of Lake Patzeuaro, and that it 
 was only brought in on Palm-Sunday. Subse- 
 quently we learned that this extraordinary 
 pottery is made in the little mountain village 
 of San Felipe Torresmochas, in the State and 
 near the town of Guanajuato. 
 
V. — TCZINTCZUNTCZAN — UKUAPAN. 
 
 A little company of Americans and Mex- 
 icans, attended by a single mozo, or servant, 
 rode on the 15th of March, on horses and 
 mules, from Patzcuaro to Tczintczuntczan, four 
 leagues Spanish, or about fifteen miles. The 
 trip might have been made on the lake in the 
 long Indian dug-outs, but at this season of the 
 year the strong wind from the southwest which 
 invariably rises before noon renders the lake 
 very rough for row-boats. 
 
 The day was glorious and the ride thor- 
 oughly exhilarating. Nothing else that I know 
 equals the pleasurable excitement of being on 
 horseback on a sparkling morning, and setting 
 out on a journey every step of which is full of 
 novelty. We took at first the paved road to- 
 ward Morelia, but soon turned off across fields, 
 the ancient way to Tczintczuntczan, which is 
 one of the oldest of Indian villages, and was 
 formerly the capital of the State of Michoacan. 
 In the low foreground, when we turned off, we 
 had the lake, and beyond, high, pointed, irreg- 
 ular, silvery mountains. 
 
274 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 We crossed a shallow arm of the lake on a 
 causeway and an ancient bridge. Thousands of 
 black ducks, and now and then a white crane, 
 enlivened the lagoon, and at the bridge stal- 
 wart Indian fishermen were hauling a seine, 
 their dug-out moored to the bank. This boat, 
 hollowed out from a tree trunk, was thirty feet 
 long, deep, broader at the bottom than at the 
 top. Some of the Indian boats are much longer 
 than this, and their size testifies to the noble 
 forest growth. They are propelled by poles, 
 and by paddles shaped like a warming -pan, 
 and are said to be perfectly safe. We skirted 
 the lake by a very stony road for some dis- 
 tance. On the way we constantly met Indians, 
 bare-legged and bare-breasted, wretchedly clad, 
 the men bending under enormous crates of pot- 
 tery, and the women moving with the quick 
 trot peculiar to them, on their way to market. 
 In old days this was a sort of royal road, and 
 it is now so much traveled by foot-men that 
 women find it profitable to set up shelves along 
 the way for the sale of food. We crossed an- 
 other long causeway, through a lagoon, sedgy, 
 silvery, swarming with ducks ; the scene Vi as 
 very pretty and peaceful, and the view com- 
 bined the elements of loveliness and gran- 
 deur. 
 
 Winding up and around slight elevations 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 275 
 
 through a country little tilled, we came in 
 sight of Tczintczuntczan, nestling beside the 
 blue lake, a cluster of brown flat roofs amid 
 trees, with two old church towers rising out of 
 the foliage. On a height to the right are the 
 ruins of the palace of King Caltzontzi, now a 
 mere heap of unburnt bricks on the rocks. 
 This royal residence of the King of the Taras- 
 cons, before the arrival of the Spaniards, over- 
 looked a lovely domain of lake and hills and 
 sloping fields, and had gathered about it in 
 rude adobe huts a population of fishermen and 
 potters, whose descendants practice the same 
 arts, and have no doubt the same appearance 
 and manners, except as they are modified by 
 the forms of the foreign religion. 
 
 The interior of the town does not keep the 
 promise of the exterior for picturesqueness. 
 The streets are broad, but full of rubbish, un- 
 even, and mere lanes between blank adobe 
 walls, with now and then a door opening into a 
 garden or a miserable tenement. We alighted 
 under sycamore-trees in front of the jail and 
 court-house. The jail has two apartments, half- 
 dark rooms, partly excavated out of the hill, 
 a floor of earth, one small grating of wood in 
 front, which serves for door and window, and 
 furnished with a jug of water and a mat or two 
 on the ground for a bed. At this grating two 
 
276 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 patient women sat talking with a couple of 
 stupid-looking young men who were locked up 
 for theft. The prisoners seem to depend upon 
 their relations for food. The court-room is a 
 decent apartment, and has hanging on the wall 
 several badly-painted portraits, and a very cu- 
 rious ancient picture, representing the arms of 
 the city of Zinznnzan (as it is here spelled), 
 and contains the portraits of three kings — El 
 Rey Cigauagau, El Rey Sinzicha Tangajuan 
 Bulgo Caltzontzi, and El Rey Characu — in 
 one quarter arms and banners, in the other 
 several heads, three castles, a man in ermine, 
 swords, and crown. 
 
 The city has no hotel or place of entertain- 
 ment, and most of the houses into which we 
 looked are mere adobe sheds, with little furni- 
 ture. But the place has a school-room, where 
 the education seems to be very primitive. We 
 ate the luncheon we had carried in the best 
 house in the place, in a large room, displaying 
 some taste in decorations, having some speci- 
 mens of the Uruapan wooden ware and painted 
 plates on the walls. In this house there was 
 one of the red jars manufactured here having 
 an excellent head in high relief on the side, 
 Egyptian in its noble serenity, and yet grace- 
 ful — the only decoration of so high a type 
 that I saw. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 277 
 
 The chief business of the village, except fish- 
 ing, is the manufacture of pottery. This is 
 carried on entirely in private houses and gar- 
 dens. The clay is obtained from a hill near 
 the town, and is brought by the men, who also 
 fire the kilns for the baking, and they usually 
 tote it to market. The women do the rest of 
 the work. They knead the clay and mould the 
 pottery, a labor at which their small hands and 
 pliant fingers are exceedingly deft. No wheels 
 are used. All the utensils are made in half- 
 moulds and joined before baking. Seated on 
 the ground, the woman has at her side a heap 
 of clay, and before her a composing -stone. 
 The clay she kneads and rolls and spats in her 
 hands until it is of proper and uniform thick- 
 ness (and the women are exceedingly skillful at 
 this), and then it is pressed into the moulds. 
 As this ware is very cheap in the distant mar- 
 ket, a woman must make a good deal of it in a 
 day to support her family. A house here gen- 
 erally consists of an enclosure in mud walls, 
 perhaps a shabby garden with some fine roses 
 and other flowers, an open adobe hut where 
 the pottery is made and baked, and an equally 
 rude hut where the family sleep on mats spread 
 on the earth. At one of the pottery places 
 was a small chapel to St. Helena, with a bedi- 
 zened figure of the saint, and hung with votive 
 
278 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 offerings. A penitent, a young woman bearing 
 a lighted candle, and attended by an elderly 
 dame, stood in front of the altar. At this 
 house, where we were received with entire cour- 
 tesy and politeness, though all the eyes of the 
 women, children, and boys followed us with a 
 little suspicion, as if the presence of strangers 
 was unaccountable, I had a curious illustration 
 of the morals of the community. I had in my 
 hand a fine rose, which came from the garden 
 where we lunched, and as an acknowledgment 
 of the courtesy of the house, and when we were 
 saying good-by, I offered it to one of the young 
 girls. She refused it with indignation, or 
 rather took it and cast it angrily on the 
 ground, while all the group looked at us with 
 suspicion. I could not imagine what was 
 wrong, but my Mexican friends explained after- 
 ward that it was an insult to offer a flower to 
 a maiden in that way, for the inference was 
 that I had a bad motive. 
 
 The Indians of this village are industrious, 
 virtuous, and exceedingly poor, judging pov- 
 erty by the standard of our wants. The women 
 are short in stature, broad, and sturdy, but 
 with small feet and hands, and much resemble 
 our Northern squaws in features, but they have 
 a mass of thick black hair, which has in it a 
 red glint in the sun. On the shore, where we 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 279 
 
 went to see the fishermen drawing their nets, 
 and where the view of the blue water and the 
 mountains is very pretty, the women and chil- 
 dren all ran away and squatted in the bushes 
 at our approach. The presence of a lady in 
 our party even gave them no confidence. 
 
 The present attraction of this village is not 
 the ancient palace of the native king, nor the 
 descendants of his people, who mould the an- 
 tique pottery and burn candles to St. Helena. 
 It is the romance of the Spanish ecclesiastical 
 dominion. It is finding in this remote Indian 
 village the remains of a splendid hierarchy, 
 which counted no labor too much, no sacrifice 
 too costly, no prodigality of money too free, to 
 secure the salvation and the tribute of the 
 Western world. Tczintczuntczan was the cap- 
 ital of this province and the natural centre for 
 the display of the magnificence of the Church. 
 The name was well known in Spain ; the vil- 
 lage and its people were favorites with Philip 
 II., who seems to have had an exaggerated no- 
 tion of its importance. Here arose churches 
 and convents, here learned and saintly devotees 
 of the faith gave their lives to the cause of the 
 cross, and to these poor savages Philip made a 
 gift that any monarch or any city might envy. 
 
 When we entered the walled church enclos- 
 ure we seemed to have stepped back into the 
 
280 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 sixteenth century. The scene is more Italian 
 than Spanish in character. This large enclos- 
 ure, now neglected and run to waste, was once 
 a beautiful garden, cultivated by the monks, 
 who liked, in their exile, to surround them- 
 selves with something to remind them of home. 
 There are evidences that it was formally laid 
 out and planted, but the paths are overgrown, 
 and only stray lilies and roses remain to attest 
 the former care. That which most vividly re- 
 calls the Spanish missionaries and their taste 
 is the olive - trees that entirely surround the 
 enclosure within the walls. Judging by their 
 appearance, they must have been planted three 
 centuries ago. They are the largest olive-trees 
 I ever saw, and bear unmistakable marks of 
 great age. Most of them are mere ruins of 
 trees, many of them mere shells of bark, but 
 all of them, with the tenacity of the olive, still 
 putting forth verdant sprouts on their decayed 
 summits, and bearing fruit. Twisted, gnarled, 
 fantastic, hollow, with recesses where one may 
 sit, and cleft so that one can pass through the 
 trunk, they yet stand like shapes of vegetation 
 in an artist's dream of Inferno. I doubt if the 
 world can show elsewhere a more interesting 
 group of these historic trees. In the centre of 
 the enclosure some men and boys, in a leis- 
 urely and larkish mood, were digging a grave. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 281 
 
 A few other graves are there, but no head- 
 stones. Some of the mounds were very fresh, 
 suggesting a sudden access of mortality, in this 
 healthful region ; some one remarked that 
 March was probably the time to die, the very 
 aged being shaken off by the rude, persistent 
 winds of the season. A wretched beggar or 
 two followed us. One of them, who was much 
 deformed and had been very clinging, made 
 a specialty of fits. I had already given him 
 something, but it was not enough for his de- 
 serts, and when we were about to enter the 
 house for our lunch, he threw himself on a heap 
 of rubbish in the street and went into convul- 
 sions, foaming at the mouth. When he saw 
 that nobody paid any attention to him, he got 
 up and went away. 
 
 In the enclosure are two ancient churches, 
 one with a tower and bells, the parish church, 
 gaunt and plain, the other the chapel attached 
 to the monastery. Both have an appearance 
 of decay and non-use, the religious accommoda- 
 tions being now in excess of the dwindled pop- 
 ulation. The monastery, with its outer stair- 
 way, gallery, and courts, is a decidedly pictu- 
 resque old pile, with color subdued but not 
 much faded. The adjoining chapel is large, 
 and above the average of Mexican church in- 
 teriors in interest, and the cloisters are beau- 
 
282 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 tiful. In the centre, walled by a low parapet 
 and open to the sky, is such a garden as one 
 finds in the decaying monasteries of Italy, with 
 orange-trees and a tangle of vines and a cat 
 asleep in the sun. The cloister is of two sto- 
 ries, with round arches, one above the other ; 
 the ceiling corners are of wood carved in ara- 
 besque, as in Moorish architecture. On the 
 walls are very rude and high-colored paintings, 
 representing the rites of baptism, confirmation, 
 confession, and so forth. It is altogether a bit 
 of the Old World, and one has here an inde- 
 finable sense of peace and repose. 
 
 The aged priest who has charge of the prem- 
 ises and lives in apartments above the clois- 
 ters, the only intelligent man in the village, was 
 unfortunately absent, and we had difficulty in 
 persuading the girl who answered our call from 
 the upper gallery to come down and unlock 
 the sacristy door. In the sacristy is the treas- 
 ure of Mexico. The room is oblong, and has 
 windows only on one side, towards the west, 
 broad windows, closed with wooden shutters. 
 On the walls are several so - called sacred 
 daubs and a number of uncouth and rubbishy 
 images. But across, and filling one end over 
 the vestment chest, hangs " The Entomb- 
 ment," by Titian. The canvas, which is en- 
 closed in a splendid old carved wooden frame, 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 283 
 
 is fifteen and a half feet long. It contains 
 eleven figures, all life-size. In the upper left- 
 hand corner is a bit of very Titianesque land- 
 scape, exactly like those which Titian was fond 
 of introducing into his pictures, and which his 
 contemporaries attributed to the influence of 
 his birthplace, Pieve di Cadore ; on a hill are 
 three crosses in relief, against an orange sky. 
 In the lower left-hand corner is Mary Magda- 
 len seated on the ground, contemplating the 
 nails and crown of thorns. In the lower fore- 
 ground, very realistically painted, are an oint- 
 ment box and a basin. 
 
 The figure of Christ, supported in a sheet, 
 is being carried to the tomb — a dark cavern 
 in the rear. Two men, holding the sheet, sup- 
 port the head, and one the feet. Aiding also 
 in this tender office is a woman, her head 
 bowed over that of the dead Christ. Behind is 
 St. John, Mary the Virgin, Mary whom Christ 
 loved, and St. Joseph. There are two other 
 figures, partially in shadow at the right, spec- 
 tators of the solemn scene, and one of them is 
 said to be a portrait of Philip II. 
 
 The flesh-painting of the central figure is 
 marvelously fine in imitation of the rigid pallor 
 of death, while that of two of the figures car- 
 rying the body is equally true to robust life. 
 The St. John is exquisitely beautiful in draw- 
 
284 MEXICAN N0TE8. 
 
 ing and color, conveying the traditional grace 
 and manly tenderness of the beloved disciple. 
 The vestments are in Titian's best manner, the 
 reds and deep blues harmonious and beautiful 
 in tone. 
 
 The grouping is masterly, natural, free, and as 
 little academic as such a set scene well can be. 
 Indeed, composition and color both proclaim 
 the picture a great masterpiece. As you study 
 it you have no doubt that it is an original, not 
 a copy. It has the unmistakable stamp of gen- 
 uineness. The picture, thanks to the atmos- 
 phere of this region, is in a perfect state of 
 preservation, the canvas absolutely uninjured. 
 
 Is this great picture really a Titian ? It 
 seems incredible that a work of this value and 
 importance should be comparatively unknown, 
 and that it should be found in a remote Indian 
 village in Mexico. But the evidence that it is a 
 Titian is strong. It was sent to this church by 
 Philip II., who seems to have thought that no 
 gift was too costly or precious for the cause of 
 the true faith, and who no doubt was deceived 
 by the exaggerated Spanish narratives of the 
 native civilization and taste. Titian, we know, 
 visited at the court of Philip, and executed 
 works to his order. It is possible that this pic- 
 ture is a replica of one somewhere in Europe. 
 I think that any one familiar with the works of 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 285 
 
 Titian would say that this is in his manner, 
 that in color and composition it is like his best 
 pictures. I trust that this description of it 
 will lead to some investigation abroad that will 
 settle the question. 
 
 We stayed in the yillage several hours, and 
 returned again to look at the picture before we 
 left. The western sun was shining into the 
 broad windows, illuminating the shabby apart- 
 ment in which it hung. And in this light the 
 figures were more life-like, the color more ex- 
 quisite, the composition lovelier, than before. 
 We could not but be profoundly impressed. I 
 cannot say how much was due to the contrast 
 of the surroundings, to the surprise at finding 
 such a work of art where it is absolutely lost to 
 the world and unappreciated. I say unappreciat- 
 ed, for I do not suppose there is a human being 
 who ever sees it, except at rare intervals a for- 
 eign visitor, who has the least conception of its 
 beauty. And yet these ignorant natives and the 
 priest who guards it are very much attached to 
 it, attributing to its presence here, I think, a 
 supernatural influence. They will not consent 
 to part with it, perhaps would not dare to let it 
 go. A distinguished American artist was will- 
 ing to pay a very large sum of money for it ; 
 the Bishop of Mexico made an effort to get pos- 
 session of it and carry it to the capital ; but all 
 
286 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 offers and entreaties have been refused and re* 
 sisted. How long it will be safe in a decaying 
 building, in the midst of a population that has 
 no conception of its value as a work of art, is 
 matter of conjecture. 
 
 We rode home partly on another road, 
 through lanes densely bordered with vegetation 
 and amid plantations under the mountain and 
 by the lake shore. Everywhere are signs of a 
 former ecclesiastical vigor. In the midst of 
 one luxuriant plantation close to the lake we 
 passed a very old church, with a detached cam- 
 panile of adobe, having a bell, the only access 
 to which was by a ladder. The evening was 
 lovely, and as we climbed the winding, rough, 
 and stony paths to Patzcuaro we had a charm- 
 ing view of the lake and its islands. 
 
 Our curiosity had been excited by the curi- 
 ously decorated wooden ware of Uruapan, and 
 we heard so many contradictory reports about 
 the charms of this village, which is famous for 
 its coffee, that I determined to ride over there. 
 The shortest distance is forty-five miles, but 
 for the sake of better roads we made it fifty. 
 The journey must be on horseback. 
 
 It was St. Patrick's Day in the morning as 
 wo rode through the arch out of the court-yard 
 of the inn. The morning-star was a diamond 
 point in the rosy dawn. The mozo led the 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 287 
 
 way, a sword strapped to his saddle, a pannier 
 containing bread, cold chicken, and cheese, 
 while the necks of a couple of bottles of wine 
 peeped out of the basket. The wine was in 
 case of sickness. The sword was for war. Mr. 
 Pablo Plata, Mexican gentleman, wore leather 
 leggings, a linen coat, and a serape over his 
 shoulders. The white horse of the writer was 
 a fast walker, with an easy gait, single foot or 
 canter, and entirely bridle-wise, guided by a 
 touch of the rein on the neck or by the pres- 
 sure of the knees. The Mexican horses are 
 small, but they have endurance, and are gener- 
 ally agreeable under the saddle. 
 
 The soft bells were ringing for matins as we 
 rattled over the stone pavement, came out into 
 the country lanes, and left the town in its re- 
 pose. The air was deliciously fresh ; birds 
 sang in the hedgerows ; there was the exhilara- 
 tion of spring, of young love ; every sense was 
 delighted. A mile beyond the town, at the 
 parting of the paths, and in the point of a hill, 
 we passed a cave. It used to be a lurking-place 
 for bandits : only two years before, robbery and 
 murder had been done there. The sun touched 
 the mountain-tops as we passed the grewsome 
 place. In an hour the lake was in sight ; in 
 two hours we had descended into and crossed 
 the plains at the foot of the lake, and passed 
 
288 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 through a couple of Indian villages ; at the end 
 of three hours, after a considerable ascent, the 
 lake was still in view, a lovely object in its 
 mountain setting, the end of a vista of fertile 
 slopes and luxuriant valley. The day was love- 
 ly, but at nine o'clock the wind began to blow. 
 Coming up the mountain through a noble 
 growth of pines, and reaching the crest, sud- 
 denly a grand prospect burst upon us — double 
 rows of mountains on the Pacific coast, and 
 miles and miles below, down the mountain, a 
 vast valley, away off in the tierra caliente, 
 swooning in a dense atmosphere. The sky was 
 very clear, but the mountains were hazy blue, 
 and the valley stretching into purple distance 
 slept in the sun. The country was for the 
 most part untitled, and the inhabitants were 
 few; trains of pack-mules were met carrying 
 sacks of sugar and bales of cotton, occasionally 
 a gypsy-like encampment by the road-side was 
 seen, and we passed two collections of huts 
 called ranches, and a pueblo of Indians of the 
 Tarascon tribe. Leaving on our right the vil- 
 lage of Tingambato, its church tower conspic- 
 uous in the trees, we went down, down the 
 mountain over an intolerable stony path, and 
 came at noon to Ziracuaritiro, a warm village 
 hidden in plantations of bananas, oranges, and 
 all sorts of fruits of barbarous names and in- 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 289 
 
 sipid taste, cane fields, irrigated, and general 
 tropical luxuriance of vegetation. The village 
 had a sort of centre, with a rude plaza and a 
 primitive church ; but it is mainly a town of 
 lanes, gardens, and small plantations, in the 
 midst of which the inhabitants live in thatched 
 huts of adobe or cane, semi-African in appear- 
 ance. 
 
 We turned into a garden to eat our luncheon. 
 I call it a garden ; it was merely a tangle of 
 shrubbery, without flowers, and with few fruit 
 trees and no grass. In the enclosure was an 
 adobe hut, only half roofed, that served as a 
 kitchen, another small adobe hut where the 
 family slept on mats on the ground, and an 
 open-work hut of cane, with a rude bedstead — 
 a couple of boards laid on trestles — for all 
 furniture, the residence of a married daughter. 
 The visible family was the mother, a woman 
 evidently of good sense and sterling character, 
 a well-grown lad, asleep in the middle of the 
 day on a mat, a couple of young girls, the 
 young married daughter, aged twenty-five, who 
 had, nevertheless, a daughter aged thirteen, 
 and a friend of the family, a rather pretty 
 woman, of modest demeanor, who had married 
 an old man, and lived in a neighboring thicket. 
 These people were wretchedly poor, but exceed- 
 ingly civil and friendly. They set out a table 
 
290 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 for us in the shade, but, except some cooking 
 utensils of pottery and a few coarse plates, table 
 furniture they had none, not even knives and 
 forks. Fruit they could not furnish. During 
 our siesta, while the horses were resting — the 
 Mexican horses are allowed no food on a jour- 
 ney from morning till night — I made the ac- 
 quaintance of this amiable family. They all 
 bad the curiosity' of children, and were never 
 tired of looking at my watch, compass, ring, 
 and the antique coins attached to the watch 
 chain. What interested them chiefly, however, 
 was the cost of everything. The prices inva- 
 riably brought from these feminine lips the 
 softest profane exclamations of surprise. They 
 all had low-pitched, sweet voices. The sole reply 
 of the married daughter to any question was 
 " Senor," in a rising or falling inflection, never 
 " Si, senor," or " No, sefior." When it was time 
 to go, the simple souls were as reluctant to have 
 us depart as if we had been life-long friends. 
 The comely lad, who acted as our guide on the 
 way to show us some of the finest fruit planta- 
 tions, of pines, oranges, and bananas, was very 
 reluctant to accept the two-real piece of silver I 
 forced into his hand. Evidently a kindly, 
 gentle-natured people. 
 
 Our way for miles lay through hot lanes and 
 cane fields, with everywhere the sound of run- 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 291 
 
 ning water. At the foot-hills we stopped to 
 see a large sugar hacienda, a characteristic es- 
 tablishment, half civilized, half barbarous ; a 
 mingling of mill, office, kitchens, terrace, yard, 
 store, store-houses, lodging-rooms, dogs, mules, 
 parrots, and mongrel men and women. And 
 then up, up the mountain, through open pine 
 forests, with occasionally trees of giant size, 
 and from the ridges glorious views under the 
 trees of great mountains and the extensive hot 
 country, with its towDS and green plantations. 
 At length, after a long pull, we reined up on 
 the summit, on the edge of a precipice over- 
 looking the great plain of Uruapan. The view 
 was a surprise. Below was the valley, five or 
 six miles broad, plentifully irrigated, green 
 with maize, barley, cane ; at its further side, in 
 the foot-hills, the city of Uruapan, shining in 
 the rays of the withdrawing sun; below it, in 
 the luxuriant plain, two lakes like mirrors ; 
 and beyond, noble mountain-peaks, stretching 
 away to the Pacific, enclosing high valleys 
 smoking with charcoal burning. All this 
 lovely panorama projected on a background 
 of pink sunset. 
 
 After we had picked our way down a precipi- 
 tous path, and passed the large hacienda of St. 
 Catherine, encountering droves of mules and 
 cattle on the dusty roads, we entered the very- 
 
292 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 broad and straight street, cut all the way longi- 
 tudinally by deep ruts, that leads to the town. 
 The way was terribly long to us and to our 
 somewhat jaded beasts, and it seemed as if we 
 never should reach the town. It was seven 
 o'clock and dark when we came to the first 
 houses, and then we had a long ride over the 
 paved hilly streets, between blank walls of 
 houses, houses with window-shutters and no 
 glass, to the hotel St. Antonio. We had been 
 warmly recommended to this as an excellent 
 hotel, and tired, dusty, and hungry as we were, 
 we rode into the court-yard with great expecta- 
 tions. It was a miserable fonda of one story 
 about a shabby court. No one appeared to 
 welcome us. After calling and waiting some 
 time, a nonchalant boy, who represented the 
 indifference of the establishment, appeared, and 
 said we could have rooms. In the course of 
 ten minutes more of shuffling about he showed 
 us an apartment, and by means of a tallow can- 
 dle, which he procured after another long ab- 
 sence, we saw that it was a barrack of a room, 
 containing two cot beds, a wooden horse for 
 the saddles, and a rickety wash-stand. The 
 window had no glass, and the shutter was 
 tightly closed. I asked for a separate room — 
 a request which the boy did not even take into 
 consideration — and when he had brought a 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 293 
 
 pitcher of water he seemed to think his whole 
 duty was discharged, for when we asked about 
 supper he went away without any reply what- 
 ever, and we saw him no more. I wandered 
 out into the court to the family apartments. 
 A woman with a lot of children about her was 
 seated on the ground ; she made a surly reply 
 to my salutation, evidently regarded me with 
 suspicion, and to my inquiry about supper 
 deigned no answer. It was a real Spanish 
 fonda reception. In the mean time the mozo 
 had discovered that there was no food for the 
 horses ; and as they were ready at the door, we 
 left the candle burning in the stately apart- 
 ment, and no man or woman opposing, mounted 
 our tired horses, and rode away in the moon- 
 light to another fonda on the plaza. The situ- 
 ation of this was better, the fonda worse if 
 anything than the other, except that it had a 
 kitchen, kept by a couple of old women, and 
 financially distinct from the hotel. The court 
 was sunken, an untidy place, having a few tat- 
 tered banana plants, where mules were tied at 
 night. Our mozo looked after the horses, hav- 
 ing to go out and buy food for them, and the 
 proprietor contented himself with showing us a 
 room, the only one not occupied. It had two 
 beds and a tightly barred window. As my 
 comrade objected to opening even a crack to 
 
294 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 let in the deadly night air, I had a headache in 
 the morning. It seemed to me that a hot bath, 
 after such a long weary ride, would be refresh- 
 ing, but my proposal was met with an exclama- 
 tion of horror. Almost on his knees Mr. Plata 
 begged me not to think of such a suicidal per- 
 formance. Fortunately for his views, it turned 
 out that there was no public bath in this city 
 of nine thousand inhabitants. The next day, 
 when I searched the town for one, the women 
 in charge of an establishment to which I was 
 sent said that if I would order one they would 
 prepare it for next day. 
 
 The demesne of the old women consisted of 
 a small room with a couple of rude tables, 
 without table-cloths, and benches, and a smaller 
 kitchen. The earthen vessels for cooking hung 
 on the walls, and all the centre was occupied 
 by a stone range having several little holes for 
 charcoal fires. These women were exceedingly 
 good-natured, promised a supper in time, and 
 sent off their slatternly serving-maid to buy 
 beer and bread. While the meal was in prepa- 
 ration, I went out to see the town. 
 
 The night scene was lively. The town has 
 a double plaza, each surrounded by arcaded 
 dwellings and shops, all more or less shabby, 
 but appearing well in the moonlight. The 
 shops were open ; half the town seemed to be 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 295 
 
 getting its frugal supper in the open air, and 
 the place was quite illuminated by the flaring 
 torches of the dealers, who squatted on the 
 ground, and offered their fragrant but uninvit- 
 ing cooking to the hungry. Beyond the plaza 
 is a very pretty paseo, a lovely promenade, 
 well-kept walks among the trees and beds of 
 bloom, an enchanting place in the moonlight, 
 with the plash of the fountain and the odor of 
 night - blooming flowers. Fronting it is the 
 chief church of the place, a very good specimen 
 of Spanish architecture. The town itself, I 
 found next morning, is an out-at-the-elbow sort 
 of place, but I know few others anywhere that 
 have a prettier little paseo. It was nearly nine 
 o'clock before our supper was ready — a non- 
 descript meal, and I suppose not bad for those 
 who like the ordinary Mexican cooking. 
 
 We waited in the morning an hour for a cup 
 of coffee. The traveler in Mexico has to learn 
 that he must order his coffee the night before. 
 Its preparation is a slow process. The berry, 
 burned black, is ground to a fine powder, and 
 water is let to drip through it drop by drop. 
 The liquid, real essence of coffee, is black as 
 ink, and a tablespoonful suffices in a cup of 
 hot milk. As commonly made it is too much 
 burned and bitter. But the Mexican coffee, 
 when the berry is properly cured, and not let 
 
296 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 to acquire an earthy flavor by drying on the 
 ground, is, I think, as good as any in the world. 
 This raised in Uruapan is equal to the bet- 
 ter-known Colima, the selected small round 
 berries resembling Mocha in appearance and 
 flavor. 
 
 I had made the acquaintance the night be- 
 fore of a drifting American named Santiago, 
 one of the adventurers who give the Mexicans 
 their idea of the people of the United States. 
 Born on our frontier, he had never seen a city 
 nor much of civilized life, but had been cow- 
 boy, Texan rover, and associate of the lawless, 
 and gravitating to Mexico and picking up the 
 language, had acted as interpreter for cattle 
 buyers and railway surveyors. He was now 
 selling sewing-machines on the installment plan 
 in Michoacan. The business ought to be good, 
 for a machine costing fourteen dollars in the 
 United States sells for seventy-five in Mexico. 
 Santiago's business was to sell the machines, 
 teach the women how to use them, and then 
 collect the seven dollars a month installments. 
 Often the machines revert, after the payment 
 of a couple of installments, and they are often 
 also taken out of pawn by the agent and sold 
 over again. Santiago had another still more 
 interesting business. This is the selling of 
 enlarged and colored photograph likenesses. 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 297 
 
 Finding a photograph, taken by a strolling 
 photographer, he persuades the owner to have 
 it enlarged. Santiago sends this to a firm in a 
 remote town in New York, with a description 
 of the subject, complexion, color of hair, and 
 eyes. This is thrown up to life size, properly 
 colored, and returned. The noble picture costs 
 Santiago about twenty dollars delivered, and 
 he sells it for forty. Thus the fine arts are 
 slowly sifting into Mexico. 
 
 We explored the town that morning in 
 search of good specimens of the Uruapan lac- 
 quered ware. It is famous the world over ; it 
 has taken the prize of gold medals at Paris, 
 Vienna, Philadelphia. As usually happens in 
 like cases, it was impossible to find good speci- 
 mens in the town where the article is made. 
 We visited the family whose work has taken 
 the prizes, but it had no finished work ; indeed 
 the artist whose work won the gold medals 
 had recently died. The ware of other makers 
 was decidedly inferior, and I found nowhere, 
 in shops or private houses, specimens of the 
 best. The work is either gourds or shallow 
 dishes of wood cut out with a jack-knife, bril- 
 liantly decorated in colors. In the genuine 
 ware a ground - color is first put on, gold or 
 olive, or some low tone ; on this the drawings, 
 usually of flowers, are made ; the figures are 
 
298 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 then cut out deeply with a knife, something as 
 in wood - engraving, and the intaglio is filled 
 with paint, each color being laid in separately 
 and left to dry thoroughly before another is 
 added. As there are as many colors as may 
 be in a bouquet of various flowers, the process 
 is slow. When the paint is perfectly dry, the 
 whole surface is rubbed with a paste made of 
 tree-caterpillars. This gives an enduring lac- 
 quer to the surface that resists grease and hot 
 water. The ware therefore retains its brilliant 
 color and beauty, no matter how hard the 
 usage, till it is literally worn out. The market 
 value of this worm paste is two dollars a pound. 
 As the finest ware is only made by one family, 
 a. small amount is produced, and the price is 
 high. The drawings in this family are all 
 done by a stupid-looking girl of sixteen, and 
 her designs are all mechanically copied. The 
 former draughtsman always drew his flowers 
 from nature. 
 
 While waiting for breakfast I visited the old 
 church on the paseo. The most notable thing 
 about it is a fine flower-garden, occupying all 
 the ground at one side. Within I found the 
 usual bare white walls, but a highly decorated 
 and gilded chancel and altar, a wood floor, a 
 ceiling of wood carved and painted in lozenge 
 patterns, and cornices prettily painted in blue 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 299 
 
 and brown. A row of men on their hands and 
 knees were scrubbing the floor with soap and 
 water, using the painted wooden bowls, and 
 groups of women were kneeling about the con- 
 fessionals, either confessing or waiting for the 
 priests. 
 
 In the garden I was accosted by a very re- 
 spectable man, who offered to show me the 
 town. He was, I afterward learned, one of 
 the first citizens of the place, a planter, dealer 
 in iron, and a man of means. Uruapan, lying 
 in the foot-hills, is splendidly watered, a noble 
 though artificial stream (at least with artificial 
 banks) rushing through the suburbs, and pour- 
 ing abundant life into the blooming valley. 
 Indeed, it is the water of Uruapan that makes 
 it widely famous as a garden of delight. We 
 went down to the river, and followed it where 
 it is diverted into several channels through the 
 coffee plantations. Here, in the dense shade 
 of bananas and other fruit trees, gleamed the 
 red berries, and here were the African huts 
 embowered in the luxuriant foliage. In these 
 cool retreats life was simple, men, women, and 
 children were bathing in the canal, regardless 
 of a censorious world. 
 
 We found also on our walk a thriving cot- 
 ton-mill, conducted by a Scotchman, employing 
 some two hundred operatives, and turning out 
 
300 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 common sheeting, which sells here for a much 
 higher price than fine cotton cloth in the 
 States ; the cotton costs the manufacturer 
 much more than he would have to pay for a 
 much better quality in New Orleans. I under- 
 stood hiin to say that the Mexican cotton was 
 generally inferior to ours. 
 
 My very civil and obliging guide invited me 
 to his house — a substantial residence, half 
 dwelling-house and half shop, the court bright 
 with flowers and decorated with specimens of 
 the Uruapan lacquered ware — and introduced 
 me to his family. I was informed that the 
 house and all it contained was mine. It was a 
 very warm day, and after our long stroll one of 
 the cooling Mexican drinks, say an orange sher- 
 bet, would have been enjoyable. But my hos- 
 pitable entertainer did not offer me even a glass 
 of water. 
 
 Santiago was a character. I do not know 
 what his Mexican speech was, but his Ameri- 
 can was the most curious mosaic of slang and 
 profanity I ever heard. He informed me, as 
 we sat that evening in the paseo listening to 
 the music in the lighted and thronged church 
 — it being the eve of St. Joseph's Day — that 
 he was on that sort of thing himself : he had 
 just been baptized. His reasons for this step, 
 since he had no respect for the priests and no 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 301 
 
 knowledge of the Catholic religion, were not 
 clear ; but as he had been ill recently, for the 
 first time in his life, and likely to die, I sup- 
 pose he thought he might as well take all the 
 chances. The ceremony had not changed his 
 conversation or his mode of life, which he 
 freely opened to me, but he appeared to think 
 there might be safety in it. " The priest told 
 me," Santiago rambled on, " that if I would be 
 baptized I would be just as if I had been born 
 over ; all that I had done would be clean 
 rubbed out. He gave me a lot of Spanish to 
 learn, catechism and all that ; but I could n't 
 do it, and I just told him that I could n't get on 
 to all that Bible racket. Never mind, he said, if 
 I only believed so and so [it was the substance 
 of the Apostles' Creed that was required], and 
 I told him I reckoned I did. When I was going 
 to be baptized I said, ' Look a-here, I can't go 
 this confession business ; I don't want to tell you 
 all the mean things I 've done — and I 've done 
 some mighty mean things — or all the mean 
 things I 'm going to do.' He said I could make 
 it general ; I 'd already owned up I was a big 
 sinner; if I was baptized, all that would be 
 taken away. Then I happened to think, and I 
 said, ' There is one little thing that is on my 
 mind : there 's a Jew dealer up here in Zamora 
 that I owe seven dollars and a half for clothes.' 
 
302 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 I guess I was cheated, but I felt kind of uneasy 
 about it when I was sick. And the priest said, 
 ' That'don't count; when you are baptized you 
 are a new man, just as if you had been born 
 again, and you don't owe that Jew any seven 
 dollars and a half.' That is what the priest 
 said. I don't know anything about it." 
 
 Notwithstanding his varied life, Santiago bad 
 the cow-boy's notion of " square dealing," and I 
 found that he had a reputation among the mer- 
 chants of the town for business integrity. It 
 was this, in his opinion, that distinguished him 
 from the Mexican community. Nor did thia 
 borderer altogether lack sentiment. " The 
 place of all the world I 'd like to see," he 
 said, as we looked at the moonlight through 
 the lace-like foliage, " is Italy. I 've just been 
 reading ' The Last Days of Pompey.' I 'd like 
 to go to Italy." 
 
 The next morning we were to start surely at 
 five o'clock, in order to pass the hot plain be- 
 fore the sun beat down on it, and to be well on 
 our fifty-mile ride in the cool of the day. Mr. 
 Pablo Plata insisted on that, and arrangements 
 were made accordingly. When I awoke it was 
 half past six, the mozo had the horses saddled, 
 but Mr. Plata was still asleep, and there was no 
 sign of coffee. When Mr. Plata was aroused 
 he said that he would start at once, but while I 
 
MEXICAN NOTES. 303 
 
 was getting ray coffee, he and the mozo, San 
 Francisco, would step across the plaza to mass. 
 It was St. Joseph's Day, and it would be very 
 unlucky, indeed dangerous, to those on the 
 journey without mass. 
 
 The morning was fresh, a breeze stirred the 
 trees in the plaza, birds were singing ; women 
 had set up their coffee and bread stands for 
 those early astir, women with ribosas over their 
 heads were going to mass, servants were saun- 
 tering to market to buy a few centavos' worth of 
 milk, meat, and vegetables. At the fonda the 
 horses and mules were being saddled. In the 
 court-yard, out of their close apartments, ap- 
 peared muleteers, drummers, a party of sleepy 
 Mexican ladies who had taken refuge there the 
 night before, and a big Indian in Mexican cos- 
 tume, heavy-faced, surly, but looked up to with 
 immense respect as the richest man in all that 
 region. It was nearly an hour before my com- 
 rades returned from mass, and eight o'clock 
 when we clattered over the rough pavements 
 out of town. 
 
 We returned by the way we came, a route 
 much traveled by horsemen, and long trains of 
 burros and mules, each with two big packs of 
 sugar or cotton. The only vehicle seen was 
 the creaking cart, the heavy wheels of which 
 were solid, constructed of three pieces of wood 
 
304 MEXICAN NOTES. 
 
 wedged together, the axle turning with the 
 wheels. As the mozo had neglected to put up 
 a lunch, we breakfasted with our friends at 
 Ziracnaritiro. The whole of the hospitable 
 family assisted in preparing this meal, scrap- 
 ing the cheese, mashing the corn, and stirring 
 the tomato and other ingredients, and I very 
 unwisely witnessed the operations. But the 
 result was a capital breakfast. When it was 
 over, the mother asked me to change the two- 
 real piece of money I had given her son, as 
 she thought it was too smooth to pass readily. 
 A touch of thrift makes all the world kin. 
 
 At sundown we rode into the streets of Patz- 
 cuaro, thanks to the easy gait of our horses, 
 very little fatigued by the ride. 
 
 Here, as well as anywhere else, these ran- 
 dom notes on Mexico might as well end. It is 
 a country witli a marvelous climate, extraordi- 
 nary natural beauty, full of novelty and inter- 
 est to the traveler. It is a land of much polite- 
 ness, amiability, and graciousness of manner. 
 Its civilization has many points worthy of imi- 
 tation. Its government, however, is, as I said, 
 the most purely personal of any with which I 
 am acquainted, and offers, as at present con- 
 ducted, the least invitation to foreign capital 
 or enterprise. And if any one desires to see 
 the depressing outcome of miscegenation, he 
 will do well to travel through it. 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
 It has been a subject of regret ever since 
 that I did not buy Southern California when I 
 was there in March, 1877, and sell it out the 
 same month. I should have made enough to 
 pay my railway fare back, and purchase provi- 
 sions to last through the deserts of sand and 
 feeding places, and had money left to negotiate 
 for one of the little states on the Atlantic 
 coast, and settle down in such plain living and 
 civilization as it might afford. It was all 
 offered to me, but I hesitated, and before the 
 end of the month it was beyond my reach. 
 There is not much of it, little more than 
 what you may call a strip of irrigated sand 
 between the Mohave Desert and the Pacific 
 Ocean ; and if you do not secure a portion of 
 it now, it will be forever beyond your means. 
 For there is but one California in the world 
 (one ought to know this, after hearing it a 
 hundred times a day), and everybody " has got 
 to have " some of it. There is nowhere else to 
 go in the winter. Travelers who have been in 
 Southern Italy, in North Africa, in Sicily, in 
 
308 THE GOLDEN EESPERIDES. 
 
 Florida, in Greece, in Madeira, in Jamaica, in 
 Bogota, in the Piney Woods, are perfectly open 
 in telling you this. There is no climate like it. 
 But it is rapidly going into the hands of inves- 
 tors, climate and all. If the present expecta- 
 tions of transferring half-frozen Eastern and 
 Northern people there by the railway compa- 
 nies and land-owners are half realized, South- 
 ern California, in its whole extent, will soon 
 present the appearance of a mass-meeting, each 
 individual fighting for a lot and for his perpen- 
 dicular section of climate. In a year, perhaps 
 in six months from now, you might as well at- 
 tempt to buy a plot in London city, near the 
 Bank, on which to set out an orange grove and 
 some pepper-trees, as to get a foothold in the 
 Garden of the World. I am not an alarmist, 
 but I have seen London, and I know what its 
 climate is in winter. It is sufficient to hint- 
 to prudent folks that there are many people 
 in the world, that there is but one California, 
 and that there is not room enough in it for 
 all. Somebody is going to be left out. 
 
 There is nothing that will grow anywhere 
 in the world — except, perhaps, certain great 
 staples — that will not grow there in greater 
 abundance and perfection : oranges, lemons, 
 limes, peaches, nectarines, grapes, figs, almonds, 
 olives. Madeira nuts, every edible vegetable 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES 309 
 
 known to woman, — perhaps even grass might 
 be raised by constant and excessive irrigation. 
 Happening one night into a Pullman smoking- 
 room, after days of travel through the Sahara 
 wastes of New Mexico and Arizona, I chanced 
 to hear fragments of a conversation between a 
 man familiar with the region and a new-comer, 
 who was evidently a little discouraged by the 
 endless panorama of sand and dry sagebrush. 
 
 " Anything grow along here ? " 
 
 " Everything, sir, everything ; the most pro- 
 ductive soil on God Almighty's earth. All it 
 wants is water." 
 
 " Fruits ? " 
 
 " Fruits ? I should say so. Every sort 
 that 's known. This country right here is 
 going to beat the world in fruits." 
 
 "Melons?" 
 
 " Well, yes ; " relapsing into candor and 
 confession, " no ; the fact is, melons don't do 
 so well here. They ain't apt to be good. The 
 vines grow so fast that the melons are bumped 
 along over the ground and bruised." 
 
 " Ah ? " without any sign of surprise. 
 
 "Yes," without a smile, and with evident 
 desire to keep back no part of the truth, even 
 if it were an afterthought ; " if you want to 
 pick a melon in this country, you have to get 
 on horseback." 
 
310 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDE8. 
 
 And then the conversation expanded into 
 what seemed to me a little exaggeration of the 
 " boom " in New Mexico. There is a buoy- 
 ancy in the air. The traveler who has been 
 dragged through the sordidness, the endless 
 materialism of flat, muddy, or dusty land, and 
 shanty-towns, as seen from the railway, of 
 Kansas and Nebraska, experiences a certain 
 elevation of spirits on coming to the high, bar- 
 ren vastness of New Mexico, mostly treeless 
 and verdureless ; a sort of clean, wind-swept 
 top of the world, free and out-doors, illimita- 
 ble. The air is like wine. It is a luxury to 
 breathe it. The American lungs expand, the 
 pulse quickens ; it is necessary to breathe 
 twice as fast as in the East, to get oxygen 
 enough to satisfy one. One's whole nature 
 expands. The imagination is kindled. The 
 tongue is loosened. Here is freedom, the real 
 elixir. You see at once that it was a mistake 
 ever to expect a good climate with trees and 
 a lush, green vegetation, requiring and giving 
 dampness. The mind is enfranchised. The 
 dweller desires to speak the truth, the whole 
 truth, to give free play to it. Truth becomes 
 buoyant, expansive, hyperbolical. It knows 
 no limit of time or space. The difference be- 
 tween conversation in the East and in the 
 West is that in the latter it is pitched an 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 311 
 
 octave higher. Vast spaces, limitless horizons, 
 thin air, clear skies, beget a certain largeness 
 of speech. The new-comer, in my experience, 
 is more subject to it than the old resident, es- 
 pecially if he has invested in a bit of land, 
 which he may or may not want to sell. Hu- 
 man nature is the same everywhere, under 
 varying conditions. Women who talk of the 
 fashions and of education in the East speak 
 about real estate in the Far West. 
 
 The two pieces of advice that were given 
 me on starting for California were that I must 
 wear always there the thickest flannels and the 
 heaviest winter suit, and that I must ask no 
 questions about anybody's marital relations. 
 The first was good. The second was a humor- 
 ously malicious allusion to the notion that di- 
 vorces are as common there as in Chicago and 
 Connecticut. It was repeatedly impressed upon 
 me that the California climate, the best in the 
 world, was something that one must get used to. 
 
 From the heights of New Mexico to the 
 Pacific it is a land of strange and confusing 
 contrasts, upsetting all one's preconceived no- 
 tions of how Nature ought to act. At Las 
 Vegas Hot Springs, at an elevation of about 
 seven thousand feet, in a barren valley in- 
 closed by stony brown hills, in March, there 
 was no sign of spring except here and thei* a 
 
312 THE GOLDEN HESFERWES. 
 
 purple wild flower in the sand, and yet it some- 
 how looked like summer. The sky was tur- 
 quoise blue, the sun rays were warm, the air 
 splendid in quality, elastic and inspiring. 
 From the appearance, I should have had no 
 doubt that it was summer, — a summer without 
 vegetation, — if I had not discovered a snow 
 bank under my north window. It was difficult 
 to conceive that one needed an overcoat, or 
 might not lounge in the easy-chairs on the broad 
 verandas, unless one happened to observe that 
 at ten A. M. the thermometer had risen from 
 the freezing point of sunrise to only 38°. It 
 was so dry. Everything and everybody was 
 electrified. The hotel, sumptuously furnished, 
 heated by steam and lighted throughout by elec- 
 tricity, was a sort of big dynamo. We could 
 not touch a bit of iron, turn on a light, brush 
 against a portiere, or shake hands without ex- 
 periencing a tingling shock. Inside and out, 
 it was like being in a place enchanted. It was 
 much the same at Santa Fe", — cold, clear, 
 looking like summer, water freezing in the 
 pitcher at night, sky blue by day, purple at 
 sunset, the air so tenuous that Old Bald, a 
 snow-peak twelve thousand feet high, seemed 
 close at hand ; and I noticed that the moon was 
 thin and had no body, merely a disk of silver- 
 paper stuck on the distant sky. 
 
THE GULDEN HESPERWES. 313 
 
 But it is seldom cold in the Needles and 
 the Mohave Desert, — a shimmering alkaline 
 waste : 85° in March, and say 120° to 130° in 
 July. It does not matter. The few people in 
 the far-apart stations live in houses that have a 
 second detached roof, put on like the fly of a 
 tent ; and the heated, desolate passage is a 
 providential arrangement to lower the spirits 
 of the traveler to the enjoyment of the irri- 
 gated country recovered from the desert, in 
 Southern California. It is a veritable para- 
 dise, as really such as the oasis of Fayoum in 
 Egypt. Heavens ! how the human eye does 
 crave the green color ; how grateful it is for a 
 field of barley, a straight eucalyptus-tree, vines 
 and roses clambering over the houses, the lus- 
 trous foliage of the orange groves starred with 
 globes of gold ! This is Paradise. And the cli- 
 mate ? Perpetual summer (but daily rising in 
 price). There is no doubt of this when you 
 reach the San Gabriel valley, Passadena and Los 
 Angeles. Avenues of eucalyptus, pepper, and 
 orange - trees, two, three, four rows of them, 
 seven and eight miles long ; vast plowed fields of 
 oranges; the vine stubs in the grape plantations 
 beginning to bud ; barley fodder (the substitute 
 for hay) well up and verdant ; palmettos and 
 other semi-tropical plants, and all the flowers, 
 and shrubs, and vines, gay, rampant, vigorous, 
 
314 THE GOLDEN HESPERWES. 
 
 ever-blooming, in door-yards, gardens, overrun- 
 ning trees and houses, — surely it is summer. 
 There is snow sprinkled on the bare, ashy 
 hills, but everywhere in the plain is water, 
 from the unfailing mountain springs, running 
 in wooden conduits and ditches. You can buy 
 this water at so much an hour. All you need 
 to buy is climate and water, — the land is 
 thrown in. It is warm in the sun, — the ther- 
 mometer may indicate 70° ; it is even hot, 
 walking out through the endless orange planta- 
 tions and gardens that surround Los Angeles ; 
 but there is a chill the instant you pass into 
 the shade ; you still need your winter clothing, 
 and if you drive, or ride in the grip-cars over 
 the steep hills, you require a winter overcoat. 
 The night temperature throughout California 
 is invariably in great contrast to that in the 
 daytime ; nearly everywhere fire is necessary at 
 night the year round, and agreeable nearly all 
 the year, even in Southern California. I doubt 
 if it is ever pleasant to sit out-of-doors or on the 
 piazzas at night, though it may be in the hot- 
 ter months, in the Southern portion. But it is 
 very confusing to the mind of the new-comer 
 to reconcile his necessity for winter clothing to 
 what he sees and almost feels ; in short, to get 
 used to the climate. The invalid is thrown off 
 his guard by appearances ; and I should say 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDE8. 315 
 
 that there is no country in the world where a 
 person needs to use more care about taking 
 cold. Yet this must be said : the air is bracing 
 and life-giving. I did not, in any part of the 
 State, in walking or taking any sort of exercise, 
 feel the least fatigue. A " cold," therefore, for 
 a person in ordinary health and condition, is 
 not the dragging, nearly mortal experience that 
 it is apt to be in the East. Then the crowning 
 advantage of the country, even if the climate 
 is treacherous and needs watching in its effects, 
 is that one can be out-of-doors all the time, 
 nearly every day in the year. Meantime he 
 can eat oranges, if he is not particular about 
 the variety, and get rich selling prospective or 
 real orange groves to Eastern people. But he 
 will never get over the surprises and contrasts 
 of the country. We went one day, by rail, 
 eighteen miles over the gentle hills, from 
 Los Angeles to its lovely seaport of Santa 
 Monica. Fine hotel, charming beach and 
 sand bluffs, illimitable Pacific Ocean. It 
 was not a warm day nor a cold day, just the 
 ordinary kind of day to sell (I suppose one 
 could buy a day's climate there, or half a day's, 
 or swap off a morning for an afternoon with 
 the real-estate brokers, — and every man and 
 woman is a real-estate broker), but we wore 
 thick winter clothing, and carried overcoats, 
 
316 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
 which occasionally were needed. Yet as many 
 as seventy-five sane people were bathing in the 
 Pacific Ocean as if it had been August ! Flow- 
 ers, fruits, summer bathing, and winter over- 
 coats, — you have to get used to it. 
 
 It is a splendid place for invalids. The 
 country was full of them. It will be fuller yet, 
 if Los Angeles, lovely city of angels, growing 
 like asparagus in a hot-bed, already with fifty 
 thousand people, and may be ten thousand 
 more, in the season, trying to find a night's 
 lodging, never yet having had the least time to 
 pay attention to ordinary sanitary precautions, 
 does not speedily design some system of drain- 
 age out of its shut-in valley. But this is a 
 matter of detail. And yet it cannot be ne- 
 glected, for already the doctors there have cases 
 of pneumonia, diphtheria, and typhoid fever. 
 San Diego, lying mostly on sand hills overlook- 
 ing its magnificent harbor, has already appro- 
 priated a million and a quarter of dollars for 
 drainage, inviting the Waring system. And 
 another thing, also a matter of taste as well as 
 of detail : the buyer, driving around the city 
 and the country, which for thirty miles in any 
 direction is humming with the noise of build- 
 ing, and planting, and laying out streets, — the 
 hum of populations yet to be, — the buyer, 
 amid the myriad signs of " Real Estate For 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPEHIDES. 317 
 
 Sale," ought not to be confronted by so many 
 legends of " Undertakers and Embalraers." It 
 chills ardor. Real estate for certain limited 
 purposes, though unlimited occupation, we are 
 all reluctant to purchase. 
 
 One of the great uses of New England in the 
 world is that of an object lesson, for the de- 
 votees of the development hypothesis, of the 
 survival of the fittest. Southern California 
 offers to illustrate the converse. The move- 
 ment of people thither is, both in quality and 
 volume, the most striking phenomenon of 
 modern times, in its character a migration per- 
 haps unprecedented in history. It quite equals 
 the movement of 1849, perhaps surpasses it in 
 speculative excitement, but its original motion 
 is entirely different. There was mixed, in the 
 hegira of 1849 to the west coast, a greed for 
 sudden wealth and a spirit of reckless adven- 
 ture, which recalled the romantic heroism of 
 both Jason and Cortez. The present emigra- 
 tion is not for adventure at all, and primarily 
 not for gold ; it is a pursuit of climate. But 
 naturally, this human desire for dwelling in a 
 place genial and tolerant of human physical 
 weakness has been taken advantage of, and the 
 west coast is the arena of the most gigantic 
 speculation and inflation known in American 
 annals. I cannot conceive that the excitement 
 
318 TEE GOLDEN EESPERIDES. 
 
 of '49 exceeded this. We can well understand 
 why men and women, who discover that they 
 have but one life to live on this engaging 
 planet, that they are freer than plants to change 
 their habitat, and that all the places in the 
 world are not alike inhospitable and not alike 
 devoted to the development of the robust vir- 
 tues, should weary of the winters of the North, 
 and of the blizzards and cyclones of the West, 
 and seek a land comparatively free from phys- 
 ical anxiety. In the process of natural selec- 
 tion there has been developed a great number 
 of people who come to regard climate as of 
 more importance than anything else. When 
 to this desire is added the advertised advan- 
 tage of living in luxury with comparatively lit- 
 tle labor, the migration is accounted for. The 
 fact is, besides, that we are a poetic people ; 
 notwithstanding the sternness of our discipline, 
 we have a good deal of Oriental imagination, 
 and if you dangle a golden orange before the 
 eyes of a Northern man you can lead him any- 
 where. 
 
 The Southern California speculator -has a 
 reasonable, not to say a mathematical, basis. 
 You can figure out of our sixty millions of 
 population a certain number of invalids and 
 their families, or of people not exactly invalids, 
 to whom a genial climate seems the most desir- 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPER1DES. 319 
 
 able thing, a number large enough to fill up 
 Southern California several times over. What 
 interests the traveler is the inquiry, What will 
 all those people now there, and on the way 
 there, do when they have sold out all the land 
 to each other, and resold and resold it at con- 
 stantly mounting prices, until it is beyond pur- 
 chase, and it is found that no possible crop 
 on it can pay a remunerative per cent, on the 
 irrigated principle? What interests the phi- 
 losopher is the inquiry, What sort of a com- 
 munity will ultimately result from this union 
 of the Invalid and the Speculator ? Assuming 
 that Southern California is the best winter 
 climate in the republic, and that its product is 
 mainly small fruits, given a land as valuable as 
 Wall Street, is it not the expectation that this 
 shall be the home of the rich, who must draw 
 upon Eastern accumulations of capital ? Agri- 
 culture is now the dependence there of labor, 
 for at present coal is so high as to forbid profit- 
 able manufacturing. How are the laboring 
 people to live ? I was told, in a certain region, 
 that there were at least a thousand dressmakers 
 and milliners, who had gone there expecting to 
 live by their trades, who found the ground 
 completely occupied, and were filling the posi- 
 tions of chambermaids and other servants, glad 
 to get any sort of work by which they could 
 
320 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
 live. Many a man, who went there with a 
 little money, expecting to enrich himself by 
 speculation, or to own that gold mine, an 
 orange grove, has had his lesson, and is glad to 
 earn the means of subsistence by grooming or 
 driving horses. It begins to be said with fre- 
 quency, " This is no place for a poor man." 
 
 If it is true that the quantity of land open 
 to purchase is very limited, as the intending 
 buyer is constantly told, and limited because of 
 the difficulty of irrigating the adjacent desert, 
 there is also at present an artificial limitation 
 on account of the ownership of vast tracts, 
 ranches of from twenty thousand to one hun- 
 dred thousand acres, by investors and specula- 
 tors and railway corporations. California — 
 one hears that already — is practically in the 
 hands of a few rich men. It is not literally 
 true, but vast land-ownership is certainly a fea- 
 ture of this Eldorado. 
 
 There is an undeniable fascination about the 
 west coast for most persons. Probably the 
 temporary sojourner, however much he may be 
 pleased with certain qualities of the climate, 
 and however deeply he may be interested in 
 the abnormal state of things, declares, if he is 
 in health, that nothing would induce him to 
 live there. Possibly a majority of those who 
 go there think they go temporarily, for the 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 321 
 
 winter, or to make easily a little money. It is 
 a common experience, throughout the State, to 
 dislike the life, the society, the whole thing, at 
 first, and then to become as violently attached 
 to it as a place of residence. Something is apt 
 to draw people back who have been there once : 
 perhaps the climate, or the untrammeled life, 
 or a certain expensiveness congenial to the 
 American mind. 
 
 I do not know whether the English language 
 is exactly adapted to Southern California. It 
 seems to me too tame and literal to express the 
 exuberant growth of that region. At any rate, 
 the real-estate people call in the aid of art and 
 music. Brass bands, heading the processions to 
 auction sales of city lots in the outlying des- 
 erts, excite the buyer to frenzy ; and seductive 
 paintings, a vast broadside of boards erected 
 at the railway stations, — pictures of vineyards, 
 orchards, lofty rose-covered houses and delec- 
 table hills, — appeal to the most stolid visitor. 
 Indeed, our language is too poor to do justice 
 to the prolific powers of nature, to say nothing 
 of the prolific invention of man. Jack's Bean- 
 stalk is not a myth, but simply an illustration. 
 We are accustomed to regard the tree as a 
 slow, laborious product of nature. I do not 
 say that in California the forest tree is an an- 
 nual, but if you plant eucalyptus saplings you 
 
322 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
 will have in three or four years a fine, stately 
 grove, from which firewood is cut; and very 
 good firewood this fat tree makes. I was 
 shown a big stump of a eucalyptus-tree in a 
 Los Angeles garden, which the owner had cut 
 down because it was too near the house. It 
 was ninety feet high, and he had planted the 
 sapling only seven years before. 
 
 Possibly Southern California should be de- 
 scribed as a garden rather than an agricultural 
 region. The most considerable plantations I 
 saw were of vineyards and orange groves. The 
 vineyards were on flat, irrigated land, vine- 
 yards sometimes six hundred acres in extent. 
 There is no doubt that the yield of grapes is 
 prolific. There is also no doubt that nearly 
 every kind of wine known to the market is 
 made from the same field, — hock, claret, bur- 
 gundy, champagne ; wine sweet as cordials and 
 sour as vinegar ; wines white, red, and golden. 
 Quantity is the thing aimed at. Good wine is 
 produced here and there. I did not happen 
 upon any in the hotels or vineyards of South- 
 ern California, but I tasted of a good bottle in 
 San Francisco. I question if choice, fine wines 
 will ever be produced on the rich flats ; cer- 
 tainly not by the present wholesale system of 
 cultivation, — getting the most possible from 
 the acre. It is probable that the best wine 
 
TEE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 323 
 
 grapes will be grown in the foot-hills, where 
 the producer, for the sake of quality, will be 
 content with a yield of a quarter of the present 
 quantity per acre. I doubt not that if a man 
 were to limit his vineyard to fifty acres, which 
 he could properly cultivate, and the product of 
 which he could properly take care of, he would 
 get a much better result as to quality of wine 
 than he gets from two hundred acres, and that 
 his profit would be greater. The science of 
 wine growing and handling is still little re- 
 garded. The effort is to obtain the greatest 
 quantity of juice, and the manipulation and 
 manufacture of sorts from the same juice is, I 
 was told, becoming common, though perhaps 
 not yet as universal as in France, where we 
 get now almost no wine in the bottle answer- 
 ing to the name on the label. 
 
 The orange-tree is very prolific in Southern 
 California. I do not know why the best varie- 
 ties would not grow there. There is, of course, 
 as much difference between oranges as between 
 apples. The attractive golden outside is a con- 
 stant deception, the cover of an unpleasant sur- 
 prise. I found at Las Vegas a delicious orange, 
 not very large, fine skin, firm, lively pulp, 
 melting in the mouth, with little remaining 
 fibre ; sweet, but not with the insipid sweet- 
 ness of so many of the Havana oranges, — 
 
324 THE GOLDEN BESPER1DES. 
 
 very like the Malta oranges. It came from 
 Herinasilla, in Mexico. I searched diligently 
 in California, but I did not find in any hotel, 
 market, chance peddler's basket, or grove any 
 orange to compare with this. Nearly all of 
 them were sharply acrid. There is a kind 
 called the Navel, much praised. But it was 
 sour, wherever I came across it. Oranges were 
 in great abundance. Perhaps I was unfortu- 
 nate in not finding any in perfection. But I 
 ate those which were praised, and the variety 
 which I was informed had taken the premium 
 in competition with those of Florida. All had 
 the same sourness ; and I concluded that the 
 grafts must have come from Sicily or Southern 
 Italy, where a really sweet, luscious orange is 
 rare. I know that this is a matter of taste ; 
 that Californians ate their own oranges and 
 said they liked them, and seemed hurt when 
 I sometimes asked for a lemon, to " take the 
 taste out." I hope the experiment will be 
 made with other varieties, for I desire to be- 
 lieve that California can produce the best 
 oranges in the world. 
 
 In some fruits California certainly excels. 
 The small olives have the nutty sweetness of 
 those grown in Southern France ; and I ate 
 raisins, made from grapes grown in a little val- 
 ley back of San Diego, which were, in my ex- 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 325 
 
 perience with this wholesome article of food, 
 incomparably fine. With more careful cultiva- 
 tion and attention to best varieties, I see no 
 reason why this region cannot supply the rest 
 of the United States with abundance of small 
 fruits and nuts which will be preferred to those 
 now imported. 
 
 The success of this gardening and fruit-rais- 
 ing, however, must depend largely upon the 
 price the cultivator finally pays for his land, for 
 the competition will be with countries where 
 land is cheap and wages are low. It would not 
 pay to raise pears in Wall Street. I do not 
 mean to say that the small industries of hus- 
 bandry are neglected ; irrigation and planting 
 keep pretty even pace with surveying, auction- 
 eering, and building. But at present the lead- 
 ing industry is the selling of real estate, — it 
 is about the only thing talked of. In the six 
 months previous to March, 1887, the price of 
 real estate in the region of Los Angeles and 
 Passadena had advanced four hundred per cent. 
 A lady went out one morning by rail from Los 
 Angeles to Passadena, where she took carriage 
 for the ordinary drive round the country, 
 through Baldwin's thirty-thousand-acre ranch. 
 As she was starting an agent asked her if she 
 did not want to buy a lot, — they peddle lots 
 like oranges ; he could offer her a bargain of a 
 
326 TEE GOLDEN BESPERIDES. 
 
 small building lot for fifty dollars. The lady 
 said she did n't mind making a little invest- 
 ment (the air is so stimulating, the orange 
 blossoms are so intoxicating, there is such a 
 noise of building and hammering everywhere, 
 and there are so many invalids from Maine 
 and New Hampshire, sitting in the rose-cov- 
 ered porches of their little cottages), and she 
 took the lot and paid for it. On her return in 
 the afternoon, the same agent met her, and 
 asked her if she did not want to sell her lot. 
 She replied that she was perfectly willing to 
 sell at a fair price — her drive had been 
 rather dusty, and she had seen a good deal 
 of apparently unoccupied ground. The agent 
 offered her two hundred dollars, and she 
 handed back the lot and took the money, and 
 went home to her dinner. The story has no 
 affidavit attached to it, but it is not an exag- 
 geration of daily occurrences. 
 
 In front of San Diego and forming its beau- 
 tiful harbor lies Coronada Beach, an island of 
 sand, something like two miles long and half 
 a mile broad, with a curved tongue of beach 
 along the Pacific, a superb bathing and driving 
 place. This sand heap had been bought by a 
 company, all staked out in building lots, with 
 shrubs planted at the corners, a shanty or two 
 erected, and from November to March seven 
 
THE GOLDEN BESPERIDES. 327 
 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth of 
 lots had been sold. How much cash had been 
 paid I do not know. The island is reached by 
 a ferry ; water has been carried over, a line of 
 railway crosses the island, and on the ocean 
 side, with a beautiful prospect of gray hills 
 framing the bay and the sparkling Pacific, 
 foundations were being laid for a hotel which 
 was to be the largest in the country (the reader 
 understands that everything is the largest and 
 every view is the finest in the world), twice as 
 big as the Raymond at Passadena. The house 
 is to be ready for occupation this winter, and I 
 hear that its rooms are all engaged, and further- 
 more that the sale of land on the island is al- 
 ready reckoned at over two millions of dollars. 
 A friend of mine, who during the last half 
 dozen years or so has been gradually investing 
 forty or fifty thousand dollars in San Diego 
 lots, told me that they would any day bring 
 half a million. I do not mean to say that 
 everybody in Southern California is rich, — per- 
 haps the majority are having a hard struggle 
 for existence, — but everybody expects to be 
 rich to-morrow. It gives one a feeling of the 
 rapid accumulation of property merely to hear 
 the ordinary conversation. But it is scarcely a 
 restful feeling, and I must confess that for me 
 the atmosphere of this sunny and flowery land 
 
328 THE GOLDEN EESPERIDES. 
 
 would be more agreeable if I could escape the 
 uneasy sensation that the first duty of man is 
 to buy a lot. 
 
 Certainly it was not a restful place. The 
 railways swarmed with excursion trains, the 
 cars were crowded, and it was difficult to get a 
 seat. The towns overflowed with speculators, 
 invalids, and travelers ; it was not easy to ob- 
 tain accommodations in hotels even by apply- 
 ing days in advance. Los Angeles secured 
 temporary relief by getting up a small-pox 
 scare, and hanging out on various houses about 
 town danger flags, and this sent thousands to 
 the neighboring villages. Owing partially to 
 the sudden influx of settlers and visitors, the 
 post-office service was completely demoralized. 
 The government refused to employ clerks 
 enough to do the business; as a consequence 
 the post-offices, as at Los Angeles, were closed 
 more than half the time for assorting and re- 
 directing letters, and during the few open hours 
 long cues of people waited a chance at the win- 
 dows. It required a long time to procure ac- 
 cess to the open office, to register a letter or to 
 inquire for one. By chance a letter might be 
 delivered promptly ; by chance it might lie in 
 the office a week. The employees were worked 
 to death. Very soon I gave up all expecta- 
 tion of getting letters with any regularity or 
 
TEE GOLDEN BESPERIDES. 329 
 
 promptness. This was of course largely the 
 fault of the government, — though the closing 
 of the post-offices generally for several hours 
 each day seems a relic of the Spanish-Mexican 
 habit. But the annoyance about the telegraph 
 is due solely to the fact that one company has 
 •a monopoly. In New Mexico and Southern 
 California the service was intolerably vexatious. 
 Messages were missent, lost, thrown into the 
 waste-basket, delayed. There was no remedy, 
 little spirit of accommodation, generally care- 
 lessness and often insolence in the employees. 
 
 Yet the climate remains, with the extraor- 
 dinary fertility of the irrigated land, the 
 strange beauty of sunny valleys and brown, 
 savage mountain spurs. The beauty of turf, 
 the abundant spontaneous vegetation, and the 
 wonderful wealth of New England landscape 
 in summer it does not approach ; but it has a 
 loveliness of its own, partly due to contrast 
 with the surrounding and encroaching desert, 
 but also to the sun, the genial air, and the 
 fruits, flowers, and semi-tropical suggestions of 
 a perpetual summer. The grandiose scenery 
 of the Far West — great wastes, gigantic 
 mountains, fantastic freaks of a nature worn 
 out with age and violence — reminds one of 
 Spain. Southern California, with something 
 of this character, has a softer attractiveness, 
 
330 THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 
 
 and the inhabitants like to say it is Italian. 
 Sierra Madre Villa, nestled amid vineyards and 
 fruit groves on the side of a mountain, with 
 a glimpse of the ocean twenty miles distant, 
 certainly suggests Southern Italy ; but no man 
 who has not bought a lot can lay his hand on 
 his heart, and say that there is here the pictu- 
 resqueness of the Sorrentine promontory, or 
 the atmospheric color. The region should be 
 content to be its glorious self, and unlike any 
 other part of the United States. 
 
 I should think that the camel would become 
 this landscape, and I know that the ostrich 
 looks more or less at home. I saw an ostrich 
 farm, where the birds lay eggs at a dollar and 
 a half apiece, and shed plumes at a reasonable 
 price, with no improvement to their appear- 
 ance. The ostrich is an interesting animal, 
 with his exaggerated, stately strut, his long 
 snake - like neck, the head carried haughtily 
 and parallel with the ground, the big, super- 
 cilious eyes looking straight along the flat, soft 
 bill. A procession of these birds is even com- 
 ical. They are denied, apparently, the pleas- 
 ures of the palate in eating, everything going 
 whole into the best digestive apparatus known 
 to the physiologists. It is a recreation to see 
 one dispose of an orange. It passes easily into 
 the capacious mouth ; then the ostrich stretches 
 
THE GOLDEN HESPERIDES. 381 
 
 and twists the long neck, and the round fruit 
 is traceable, slowly making its way down, round 
 and round, a solid lump, until it disappeai-s. If 
 the bird could only taste the fruit in its pro- 
 gress, his capacity of enjoyment would be en- 
 vied. 
 
 Traces of the old Spanish life are rapidly 
 disappearing, but may still be seen at such a 
 ranch and hacienda as that of Comulos (the 
 scene of Ramona), and lingering still in Santa 
 Barbara. At this place, besides a few dwell- 
 ings in the Spanish style, exists a refined Span- 
 ish society. Santa Barbara, lying in a valley 
 opening southward to the Pacific, with nooks 
 and canons among the hills, of wild and almost 
 incomparable beauty, does strongly suggest a 
 sort of Italy. The character and color of the 
 great mountain that shuts it in on the left 
 hand, looking seaward, are very Italian. The 
 railway has not yet reached it, and the situa- 
 tion, the air, the equable climate, — genial in 
 winter and not too warm in summer, — some- 
 thing reposeful and secluded, gave me great 
 content to be there. As I think of it with long- 
 ing, at the approach here of snow and storm, I 
 cannot but regret that so many days and des- 
 erts lie between it and the East. 
 
SJt0y.25 1899 
 
 • f£823*oy 
 
 9061 T<? WW 
 JAN 261910 
 MAR 16 1912