■^i/^^iO'^^^A^aA/?,^aA^P»^ik>» Saaaa. I^/NAA/«S^C"-1H^;'J( V ^^^/!^^' fLlBRAEY OF congress/^ ^A^^^^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, ^p^mm&.'. mm.mi^^ m^^^fm ^ ^ SKETCHES 1 IWAR IN NOllTHERN MEXICO; PICTURES OF LIFE, MANNERS, AND SCENERY. Kn 2riDo iiatts. n NEW YORK : D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY. I PIIILADSLPIIIA : X GEORGE S. APPLETON, 148 CHE=«NrT-STREET. j - ,.. y / SKETCHES OF THE WAR IN NORTHERN MEXICO, PICTURES OF LIFE, MANNERS AND SCENERY. Xn 2ttoei3arts. NEW YORK : C APPLETOX AND CO*, 200 BROAr'\VAY. 1848. f/^ PART I. SKETCHES OF THE WAR. On the 8th day of March, 1846, having broken up our encampment on the shores of the bay of Corpus Christi, in Texas, we went in ad- vance, with Ringgold's battery and Twigg's regiment of Dragoons. We soon launched out upon the broad prairies which stretch be- tween the Nueces and the Rio Grande. Day after day we pursued our course over these solitary wilds ; here reposing by a limpid pool, to recruit our strength, after a long day's march ; again passing, in our 4 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. trackless way, vast deserts of sand, and lakes encrusted with salt- Sometimes, at early dawn, when the rosy tints of the eastern sky were blended with the sombre hue of these interminable wastes, on some distant ridge a solitary object would meet the eye. But in a few moments, on a nearer approach, the wild horse of the desert discovered itself, the lonely sentinel of a vast herd, post- ed on the distant hill. Soon, alarmed by our approach, he raises his head, and with flowing mane and tail, gallops off, followed by an uncount- ed herd of thousands. Again, the sweet scent ,of the acacia, the beau- tiful bloom of the cactus, and myri- ads of lesser wild flowers, springing here and there from the bosom of SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 5 the earth ; the purity and elasticity of the atmosphere, the gorgeous splendor of a southern sun, mount- ing, like a rejoicing giant king, above the horizon ; the long line of horsemen stretching far away over the prairies ; the snow-white covers of the numerous wagons, the merry jest and laugh of the trooper, the boisterous shout of the teamster as he urges forward his restive mules, all tend to fill up the picture, and render the scene one of novelty and excitement. After several days' march, we ar- rived in the vicinity of the Mexican frontier. We were soon prepared to witness scenes Strange to our eyes, as yet untraveled here. The first object which arrested our 6 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. attention was a plain black cross, placed by a pious hand over the spot where some unfortunate pil- grim had closed his earthly career, by the hand of violence. At the close of this day, we ar- rived at a point within twelve miles of Punta Isabella, and encamped up- on a grassy plain on the borders of a lake. Early in the morning, which dawned upon a sky unspot- ted by a cloud, the advance of the army under Colonel, now General Twiggs, accompanied by Gen. Tay- lor, the commanding officer, com- menced its march for the Point, leaving the main body at this de- pot under the command of Worth. When within four miles of our des- tination, a large body of the citizens SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 7 of Metamoros, in carriages and on horseback, headed by the Alcalde, came out to confer with our com- mander, and endeavor to persuade him to retrace his steps, and thus avert the horrors of a bloody war between the two nations. The General mildly, but firmly, told them that he had no agency in the matter, that he had been instructed by his government to conduct its armies to the northern bank of the Rio Grande, and that he should obey his instructions to the letter. From our position we could see the hill upon which the Custom House and other public and private build- ings were situated, at Point Isabel, the port of entry for Metamoros. In the course of half an hour, dense 8 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. volumes of smoke were seen to is- sue from the houses on the Point. It was soon discovered that the Mexicans, failing to arrest the pro- gress of our army, had fired the houses and pubhc buildings, and abandoned the place. The Gene- ral observed, " I did not up to this time believe that there would be a war ; but I am now convinced that such will be the issue." We immediately took up our line of march for the scene of desola- tion, but arrived too late to arrest the progress of the ruin. We found Point Isabel an eleva- ted ridge, jutting out into the bay ; and bounded, landward, by exten- sive prairies. After taking in sup- plies for the main body in the rear. SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 9 we returned, and with it marched for the Rio Grande. On the morn- ing of the second day, having reach- ed the banks of that river, we plant- ed our tents on their corn fields, and raised our flag, for the first time, upon their territory. The scene, as we approached the river, was exciting in the extreme. The flaos of the different Consul- o ates were immediately displayed from the residences of each nation's representative, while the flag of Mexico floated from two points in the town. The flat roofs of the houses were crowded with men, women and children, and the oppo- site bank of the river was literally lined with them. Not a voice was raised in that vast multitude. In 10 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. wonder, silence and grief, they look- ed upon the intruders on their soil. After their curiosity appeared satis- fied, they returned to their homes ; and the Mexican sentinel paced his solitary rounds, on the banks of the Rio Bravo ; no voice v^as heard, save the half-hourly ''centinela alertd' of the Mexican night-watch, the shrill notes of their trumpet, and the discordant sounds of the drum and fife. Day after day, and week after week, we lay in our camp. On our part all was activity, in the con- struction of the work which was afterwards named Fort Brown. On the part of the Mexicans there was evinced the same industry, in the erection of a small fort, called by SKETCHES OF THE WAR. H US the ' Half-moon Battery' and a line of entrenchments in front of the town. Each day seemed to augment the strength of their forces, by the arrival of fresh troops from the interior; until, as far as our observation could extend, the town seemed to be alive with them. It was singular to behold on both sides of the Rio Grande, and within hail of each other, the soldiers of each nation, quietly, and without molest- ation on either part, constructing opposing means of offence and de- fence. The Mexican soldier, super- intended by his officer, might be seen digging his entrenchments and throwing up his embankments ; while the American, similarly occupied, saw gradually rise before him that 12 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. fort which was to defend our posi- tion on the river. During this time Col. Cross, an officer of high character and distin- guished merit, after having dressed himself one morning with great care, mounted his horse, with the inten- tion of riding a few miles from camp. The morning passed, the evening came, and he w^as still ab- sent. His son, a young man about nineteen, who had accompanied his father in this campaign, becoming very uneasy at his protracted ab- sence, rode up to me, and said that * his father had not returned to camp, and he feared that some ill had befallen him.' I endeavored to reassure him, and told him that he had probably fallen into the hands SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 13 of the Mexicans, and been carried across the Rio, and was doubtless now a prisoner with the enemy ; that he would be treated by them with all the respect due to his rank, and restored upon a demand from the General, as hostilities had not yet commenced. The next day passed ; he did not return. So the third and fourth day elapsed, and still no tidings. On the fifth, it w^as rumored that he had been waylaid and murdered by Romano Falcon, a notorious Mexican robber, and his band. The same day, a Mexican ranchero, or peasant, came into camp, confirmed the report, and offered to conduct any one to the spot where his body might be found. The Quarter-Master was immedi- 14 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. ately directed to take a wagon and a few men, under the guidance of the peasant, to the designated place ; and about four miles from camp, they found the bones of the lament- ed officer. He had been murdered by a blow on the back of the head, which had broken in his skull. The flesh had been picked from his bones by the vultures, and he could be identified only by a shoulder- strap lying near, and by his teeth, which had been plugged by a den- tist, in a manner known to his son. These sad remains were brought to camp, and placed in a coffin, and on the evening of the next day buried at the foot of the flag staff", immedi- ately on the banks of the river. The imposing ceremony was w^it- SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 15 nessed by thousands of Mexicans from the opposite side of the Rio. The last requiem was sung, the last funeral note was sounded, and, in a strange land, far from wife and home, this gallant soldier found his untimely grave. Thus perished the first victim to this unholy war. A short time before our departure for Point Isabel, Gen. Taylor was informed by spies, that the Mexicans, in two divisions, and in heavy force, were crossino' the river several miles above and below our encampment ; that already a large body of them had effected a landing on our side of the Bravo, with several pieces of artillery. Desirous of ascertaining the truth of these reports, and for the purpose of watching the move- 16 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. ments of the enemy, he detached two squadrons of dragoons, one up and the other down the river. The one which was ordered down the river returned the following day, and reported that after a scout of several miles they had not discov- ered the enemy, and believed that he had not, as yet, effected a pas- sage. The squadron which had been sent up the river did not re- turn at the expected time, nor dur- ing the following day. On the third day, the Mexican guide returned to the camp, and stated that the whole force, amounting to some eighty men, had been captured by Gen. Torrejon. At noon of the same day the report was confirmed, by a note from Gen. Arista, who sent, in an ox- SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 17 cart, one of our wounded men, sta- ting that having no conveniences for the sick, he had sent him to us, that he might receive proper care and attention. It appears that the squad- ron which left at dusk, having march- ed all night, arrived, by sunrise, at a small ranche, when the guide was informed that a heavy force of Mex- icans was two miles in advance. The commanding officer of the de- tachment, Capt. Thornton, pushed on with his men, for the purpose of ascertaining the facts, and to carry out the instructions which he had received. After proceeding the dis- tance mentioned, towards the point where^the enemy would be found, he came to a large, enclosed field, entered the gate, and, having pro- 2* 18 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. ceeded a short distance, discovered that he was surrounded by about 2000 Mexican troops. He imme- diately formed his squadron, and charged upon the nearest body of the enemy, who, by mere numerical force, drove his men back, under a heavy fire. In this charge, Capt. Thornton's horse became unmanage- able and ran off, clearing the fence ; and Thornton was taken in the road by some Mexicans who had been stationed there. The men being re-formed by Capt. Hardee, an en- deavor was now made to force a passage through the gateway by which they had entered ; unsuccess- ful in this too, he moved rapidly down, with his command, to the bank of the river, and attempted a SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 19 passage. -This also he found im- practicable. He then halted and aeld a parley with Torrejon, in which he finally agreed to surren- der. In this engagement, Lieut. Mason fell, and several men were killed and wounded. The prisoners were conveyed across the river and marched to Metamoros, where they were treated with all the attention and respect usual in war among civilized nations. They were finally exchanged, after the battle of Re- sacca de las F almas. The fort having been now com- pleted, the 7th regiment of infantry and a bgfttery of artillery were or- dered into it, and the sick carried down and placed in hospital tents. 20 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. On the evening of the first of May the whole army marched out for Point Isabel. It proceeded for its destination, making a halt for a few hours during the middle of the night, and arrived at the Point about ten o'clock in the morning of the next day. That day passed with- out any excitement ; but on the third day, (May 3), about sunrise, the re- port of a heavy piece of ordnance was heard in the direction of Fort Brown. This was the first gun, and was the commencement of a cannon- ade which lasted several hours, with- out intermission. Towards noon, however, the fire slackened, but con- tinued at intervals during the day. Next morning the firing was renew- ed. Walker, a Texan ranger, vol- SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 21 unteered to carry a letter to Fort Brown, and to return with an an- swer. This he did at imminent ha- zard, having to pass through hordes of Mexicans to accompHsh his ob- ject. He left camp, on his mission, and as he did not return on the se- cond day, we all supposed him lost. But on the morning of the third he rode in, and was received with loud acclamations. The letter which he brought from Maj. Brown was read by the Assistant Adjutant General, from a platform, to the ofhcers and men. Maj. Brown reported that the enemy had opened upon him on the morning of the day when we heard the cannonade ; that he had return- ed their fire, and silenced all their batteries except two, and that he 22 SKETCPIES OF THE WAR. could make good his defence until the General arrived at the river. Great enthusiasm pervaded our whole army, and a subscription w^as opened, under the excitement, for the purchase of a first-rate horse for the gallant Walker. Every thing having been now made ready, the supplies and am- munition loaded up, and the troops inspected, orders were issued for the march on the evening of the 7th of May. About 3 o'clock P. M. of that day, the whole army, with the ex- ception of the force left to garrison the Point, marched out. Having proceeded eight miles, it grew dark, and we halted and encamped for the night. Next morning, at sunrise, we again took up our line of march, SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 23 and after a slow and easy journey, that the soldiers might not be fa- tigued, at 2 P. M. we beheld on the jDrairie, in advance of a dense forest of chaparral, the whole Mexican army in battle array, numbering about 8000 men, of all arms. On the extreme left of their lines rested a large body of lancers ; in the middle, their artillery and infantry, and on their right another heavy body of lancers, their red pennons and lances glistening and flaming in the evening sun. Their lengthened lines, like some huge giant, seemed prepared to annihilate our little band. Yet no note of triumphant exultatioi^ arose, on their part, at their overwhelming numerical force ; but firm, silent and determined, they 24 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. Stretched, like a wall, directly across the line of our march. Our troops were halted for a time, and directed to fall out of line, refresh themselves with water, and to fill their can- teens. They were again re-formed, and our handful of men, numbering only 2000, moved slowly, by regi- ments and divisions, to battle. Pre- sently, from the Mexican lines a sheet of fire blazes forth ; then fol- lows the loud report of artillery. In rapid succession they continue to discharge their pieces at our lines. Soon our batteries respond, and a continual roar of artillery shakes the air for the space of an hour. The dry grass of the prairie catches, vol- umes of flame and smoke roll be- tween the two armies, and suspend SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 25 For another hour the conflict. Each remains the silent observer of this sublime spectacle ; while the calm- ness of the evening, and the dimmed sun, robbed of his splendor by clouds of smoke, hanging like a funeral pall over our heads, lend, with sickly hue, a mournful melancholy to the death- like scene. Again the conflict is renewed, and throughout the remainder of the evening the hoarse bellowing of ar- tillery re-echoes through those vast and vexed solitudes. The shades of night fall upon the contending armies, and in hushed repose they lie, till morning dawns upon the bloody plain. This was the battle of Palo Alto. Scouts are sent out, and it is found 26 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. that the enemy has fallen back du- ring the night, leaving his dead unburied on the field. After break- fast I mounted my horse, rode out upon the battle ground, and passing on where their right wing had rest- ed, I counted, in one unbroken line, one hundred dead bodies ; some headless trunks, some cut in twain, some with shattered limbs, all hush- ed in the silence of death. Moving on yet farther, the dead were seen in one long line. On the extreme left lay a gallant courser, stiffened and cold, and by his side a youth, scarcely yet of age. His hand grasped his horse's mane, and a smile still played upon his features, though death for many hours had stopped his pulse. Of all that lay SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 27 upon that bloody field, only two sur- vived, who were brought to our camp, and received at our hands all the attention which their condition required. About an hour after noon we re- sumed our march. When we had proceeded about five miles, a report was brought to the rear that the enemy was strongly posted near a ravine, called Resacca de las Palmas^ or the Watering place of the Palms, A battery of artillery was ordered forward, several regiments of in- fantry, and a squadron of dragoons under Capt. May. A heavy fire from both sides was immediately opened, and a fierce conflict ensued m the chaparral The artillery of the enemy, being in position, raked 28 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. the road and annoyed our men. Gen. Taylor perceiving this, turned to Capt. May and said, " Capt. May, that battery must be taken, and now's your time ; you will charge with your squadron." Promptly obeying the order, " Men," says May, " that battery must be taken by us ; close up, and prepare for a charge. Forward !" At a rapid pace the squadron rides down upon the bat- tery. May in advance, sweeps over the guns, drives back the Mexi- cans, and, reining up, wheels round, charges again, and takes the Mexican General La Vega prisoner, as he is about applying a port fire to a gun. He refuses his sword to the men, asks for an officer, and delivers it up to Capt. May. He is taken back SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 29 to our lines, and received with all the honor due to his rank. In this charge one officer was killed, and many men and horses. The battle had raged an hour and a half, when a total rout of the Mexicans ensued. Eight pieces of artillery were cap- tured, together with a large number of muskets, baggage and mules, and the tent, private papers and property of Arista, the command- ing General. The loss of the Mex- icans was very great. In one grave alone I saw interred one hundred dead bodies. Night soon fell, and the sleep of the soldier was only broken by the groans of the wound- ed. The next day, May 10th, was de- voted to rest, the care of the wound- 30 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. ed and the burial of the dead. On the evening of the third day, (May 11th), Gen. Taylor, taking with him a squadron of dragoons, and all the wounded, returned to Point Isabel, while the army marched to its old position on the Rio Grande, about three miles distant. There we re- mained five or six days, until the return of the General from Point Isabel. Then, striking our tents, we moved up the river, and made preparations to pass over on the following day. Ropes having been stretched across, and flat boats pre- pared, a regiment of infantry and a battery of artillery were first sent over. At another place the remain- ing regiments of infantry were fer- ried across, and the troops then SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 31 marched and encamped in the vicin- ity of Metamoros, the enemy having evacuated the city some two days before. These events occurred about the 17th of May. Here, in camp, in the vicinity of the Mexican city, we remained sev- eral weeks, enjoying the ease and pleasures incidental to a victorious army in an enemy's country. Our delay here was occasioned by want of means of transportation up the river, as it was necessary to arrive at a certain point before a march into the interior could be effected. In the course of a few weeks seve- ral boats arrived from the Mississip- pi river, having been chartered by our government ; and supplies to a large amount were forwarded to 32 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. Camargo, the most eligible place for a depot. About the middle of July the first detachments were shipped up the river in these boats, which were soon followed by the rest of the ar- my. Thus, by the middle of Au- gust, all our troops had taken posi- tion at Camargo. About the 20th or 21st of that month, the first di- vision took up its line of march for Serralvo, a beautiful village situated on the river Punta Aguarda. Here we remained a week or ten days ; and the whole army being concen- trated at this point, we again took up our march for Monterey, about sixty miles distant ; and on the mor- ning of the fifth day we arrived at Walnut Springs, three miles from SKETCHES OF THE WAR. 33 Monterey. Here we pitched our tents. From this ridge we could see in the distance the Bishop's palace, on a hill far in the rear of the city ; the city itself lying on the plain beneath the walls, and a beautiful val- ley extending between it and us. On the afternoon of the third day after our arrival, the first division march- ed out, and took position, by noon of the next day, in rear of the two hills commanding the Bishop's palace. Having, that evening and the next morning, stormed the hills and taken possession of them, by 12 o'clock we had driven the enemy from the palace itself, and occupied it with our troops. Thus the whole rear of the city was in our power. 34 SKETCHES OF THE WAR. Meantime General Taylor, with great loss of life, had stormed and taken several heavy batteries in front of Monterey. He had also occupi- ed a large portion of the city prop- er. The division in the rear, by the evening of the second day after the capture of the Palace, had penetra- ted one third of the city, so that the Mexican army was completely hem- med in. The next morning a flag of truce was sent by Ampudia to Gen. Taylor, for the purpose of pro- posing a capitulation. After some discussion, the particulars of which are well known, the famous articles were signed. The Mexican army was allowed a week to march out of Monterey, and an armistice was agreed upon, of sixty days, subject to the approval of both governments PART II. PICTURES OF LIFE. On entering the Mexican territo- ry, nothing strikes the mind of the stranger more forcibly than the death-Hke apathy that pervades the land. In Metamoros you behold a city of ten thousand inhabitants, con- structed, in a measure, like cities of the same size in the United States ; but with this remarkable differ- ence, that upon a navigable river in the latter a city would be built up from the water's edore, the river would be crowded with boats, and the wharves filled with merchan- 36 PICTURES OF LIFE. dize. Metamoros, on the contraryj is built at the distance of one quar- ter of a mile from the river, which is as useless to it as though it were in another country. The port of entry is Point Isabel, thirty miles from the city ; and all merchandize, even lumber, is carried by mules or in ox-carts from that place to Meta- moros. On entering the town, filth of every description, the offal of slaughtered cattle, dead dogs, horses and carrion of all kinds, every where meet the eye and offend the senses. Go to the market place, and there, exposed for sale, you find miserable mutton, beef and goats' flesh, and wretched half-grown and half-ripe vegetables and fruits. A few tortil- las and a small piece of meat, with PICTURES OF LIFE. 37 a little garlic and red pepper, con- stitiate the sole articles of diet of the mass of the people. Look to the upper story of a house on the right of the market place. There you see Mexicans constantly coming and returning, eager in the pursuit of a game call- ed monte, at which they spend their days and nights, and in which they will stake their whole fortunes, even to the coat on their backs. Let us now visit a venerable gen- tleman with a white head. Polite, hospitable, and desirous of pleasing, he, unused to books, cannot show you through his library, nor can he take you to his laboratory, or throudi his stables to see his stud • but he loill show you that which 38 PICTURES OF LIFE. Stands far higher in his estimation. In a large room, adjoining his bed- chamber, you are introduced to about twenty game-cocks, hke hor- ses in a stall, but tied by the leg. He will descant upon their blood, their spirit, their capability, their prowess, the battles which they have fought, the wagers they have won, and their pedigree ; and finally, he will direct his boy to untie two of them, and let them spar in the court- yard, for your amusement. After he has entertained you with several bouts, fought by five or six couples, upon your bidding him farewell he will invite you to come to the City Cock'Pit, and behold the public ex- hibition of their prowess, when arm- ed with steel. PICTURES OF LIFE. 39 Now, passing along the street, you see upon a door, in large letters, Gallo Pittagorico, in plain Saxon, Cock-Pit, You enter, and in a court you have a circular wall of brick, about two feet in height, and enclos- ing an area of some sixteen feet in diameter. Here, surrounded by ea- ger faces, and encouraged by shouts of applause, a pair of game-cocks, heeled with steel gaffs, are the no- ble combatants in this bloody arena. Wagers run high, excitement pre- vails, and you would be induced to believe that the fortunes of a world depended upon the success of the competitors. All classes are pres- ent. Priests and laymen appear to enjoy with equal zest this national 40 PICTURES OF LIFE. Let US now go to the church. This is Corpus Chrisii day. In the Plaza fronting the cathedral, an ec- clesiastical functionary, aided by a few boys, discharges every minute a torpedo, or something which pro- duces a sound like a boy's cannon. During the intervals, he fires off Chinese crackers. Two stout men, meanwhile, are constantly tugging at the cathedral bell. In the inte- rior of the church, kneeling on the floor, are hundreds of well-dressed women, with the graceful mantilla thrown over the head. The priest is before the altar, dressed in white robes, ornamented with a cross and borders of flowers wrought in gold. The multitude remain kneeling in PICTURES OF LIFE. 41 silence, while he, for the space of half an hour, mumbles over, in Lat- in, the prayers. At the end of this time he ceases, and the choir, com- posed of a few fiddles and clarionets, turn out the most execrable dis- cords. The priest now leaves the front of the altar, the kneeling mul- titude rise and leave the churchy during this performance ; the ladies to return home and manufacture tortillas^ and the priest to play his game of monte. In visiting the churches at home, care seems sometimes to have been bestowed upon a chaste and una- dorned architecture, unincumbered by paintings or statues. But one cannot enter a church in Mexico 42 PICTURES OP LIFE. without disgust, excited by the nu- merous images and pictures with which the walls are disfigured. Here in one corner is the full-length wax image of a Christ, a hideous and disgusting object, like the dead body of a man which had been buried for months. Red patches of blood discolor the face the hands and the body ; while a livid blue, token of a half-decayed corpse, is exhibit- ed by the colors mingled in the figure. There, again, high on the altar, the image of the Virgin Mary, dressed out in the most extravagant style, looks down with smiles upon her worshippers. Here, in this niche, is the form of some female saint, per- haps the Patroness of the city, mis- PICTURES OF LIFE. 43 adorned by votive gifts from some pious hand. What do I see in the distance 1 Twenty or thirty people, in a Hne, following a man who carries some- thing upon his head. They appear to be moving at a very quick step, to the sound of lively music, and boys on either side are firing off crackers in the air. As the proces- sion approaches, I discover it to be a funeral ; the man in front carry- ing on his head the corpse of a child, laid out on a board ; the body deck- ed in the best attire, the hands cross- ed upon the breast, and the fingers clasping a bunch of flowers. I turn about and follow them. They en- ter the gates of the Campo Santo^ Holy Field, or Cemetery. Plac- 44 PICTURES OF LIFE. ing the body on the ground, they sit or stand around it, for the space of quarter of an hour, laugh and jest, and finally commit the little corpse to the earth. Let us go into this little gate which leads into a garden. You are met at the entrance by the father, the mother, and a beautiful daughter of sixteen. With great apparent pleasure they conduct you through the walks and among the trees, and point out to you the pome- granate, the fig and the orange, all mingled in sweet confusion. The daughter, meantime, selects the most brilliant flowers, and pre- sents them to you in the shape of a bouquet. After awhile you are invi- ted into the house. From a pile of PICTURES OF LIFE. 45 cushions, wrought by the hands of the senorita, one is selected and placed upon a stool, and you are invited to sit down. A cigarrito is offered, which can be lighted at all times, at a little silver urn filled with live coals, and which, like the Per- sian immortal fire, are kept constant- ly burning. In patriarchal simplici- ty this i^rimitive family spend their lives ; the mother and daughter weaving party-colored cloths, like Helen and Andromache, and the fa- ther herding his cattle, like Abra- ham and Lot, or Agememnon, king of men, and riding his cavallo. They live surrounded by pictures of the saints, which adorn every Mexican house, and which, like the household and hearth gods of the ancient 46 PICTURES OF LIFE. Greeks and Romans, are transmit- ted from generation to generation, as heir-looms of the family. Mounting our horses we will take a trip into the country. See that savage, uncombed (unkempt) man, dressed in his jacket of buckskin, with pantaloons of the same ; upon his head the steeple-crowned, broad- brimmed somhrero, or hat, and his variegated blanket thrown over his shoulders. Mounted on a shaggy, vicious pony, with Mexican saddle and bridle, after the Moorish or Oriental style, with shovel-stirrups, high pommel, and spurs with shafts six inches in length, you have the Mexican ranchero. Following him a few miles you come to his ranche, or farm. The PICTURES OF LIFE. 47 word might imply something mag- nificent, or at least comfortable. But upon approaching it, you find, upon the borders of a river, or creek, a few patches of corn, and in the midst a one-storied adobe or dried brick building, with a peaked roof, thatch- ed with the bulrush. In the yard a few trees shade the house, and tend to soften the extreme heat of a sum- mer's sun. Entering the habitation you see in it a floor composed of clay, well rammed down, and hard- ened by use and time. The rude pictures of saints hang upon the walls ; his escopeta^ or gun, rests up- on two pegs on the side. His bed is composed of a dried bull's hide spread upon a rude bunk, with the addition of a few Mexican blankets. 48 PICTURES OF LIFE. His ^sposa, or wife, kneeling in the middle of the floor, with a pot of warm lye, filled with maize, at her side, and in front a broad stone, hol- lowed out, crushes the corn, which had been softened in the lye, by rubbing it between this stone and another which she holds in her hand ; while the eldest daughter, having flattened between her hands bits of the dough, bakes them upon a sheet of iron. This is the famous tortilla, the common bread of the Mexican people. Meanwhile the muchachos, or chil* dren, naked and filthy, sport around the yard. That clumsy vehicle, on two wheels cut out of a solid block of wood, is drawn by two oxen, fas- tened to it by the horns, and is the PICTURES OF LIFE. 49 sole means of transportation which he possesses for farming purposes. The plough, too, lies near by ; not the patent, jD^^tending plough of the American farmer, but the simple, sharp-pointed, wooden plough of the ancient Roman. But the most useful and common instrument in the hands of the Mex- ican, is the lasso. It is a rope about thirty feet in length, made of hair, or raw bull's skin cut into thongs and plaited. It hangs to the pommel of almost every Mexican saddle. There is a noose at one end, by which it may be drawn through, forming a loop of any size, accord- ing to its length. With this they catch and tame the wild horse, as well as their mules and cattle. 6 50 PICTURES OF LIFE. Their manner is, to outstrip as many of the wild horses as possible, and so to catch the fleetest of the whole herd. As it is now past noon, and the fervor of the sun is somewhat abated, we will continue our journey up the river. How wild, desolate and un- cultivated ! scarcely a tree to relieve the monotony of the scene ! The country is arid, and the grass parch- ed up. A few herbs cover the earth ; lean and half-starved cattle and horses are kept together, by the sound of a bell, on the neck of a leader ; while here and there a sol- itary ranchero, mounted on his pony, returns as evening falls, to his wont- ed home. I tire of solitude and the desolate wilds ! The evening sun PICTURES OF LIFE, 51 is now fast setting, and far off to the south I discover the blue outhnes of majestic mountains. At length the road becomes broken and rocky, and rises rapidly ; and as 1 attain the summit of a hill, two miles in advance, the snow^-w^hite buildings and the spires of the Cathedral of Mier look down, from an eminence, upon the winding river ; while the sweet-toned bell, mellowed by the distance, calls to vespers, with mu- sic high in air, and emblematic of peace in heaven, though all below is superstition, death and desolation. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. But the patriarchal simplicity of 52 PICTURES OF LIFE. this infant people is probably most fully represented in the shepherd. Vast flocks of sheep and goats feed upon the scanty herbage of this arid land ; and the shepherd, with mere- ly a breech-cloth and a blanket, shod with sandals, and with staff in hand, year after year, having no other house but the canopy of hea- ven, no bed except the hard earth, lives in the midst of his flocks, which he guides by day by the sound of his voice, and herds at evening, re- posing in their midst. The milk of the sheep, as well as that of the goats, together with their flesh, on occasion, are his sole subsistence. Accustomed from early youth to these pursuits, he knows no other wants. PICTURES OF LIFE. 53 " If few their wants, their pleasures are but few ; Unknown to raptures, or, if raptures cheer, On some high festival of once a year. In sensual joys the vulgar breast takes fire, Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire." The simplicity of the child plays upon his features, while the inno- cence of his life, the scantiness of his means, and the narrow limits both to his wishes and to his know- ledge, forbid the indulgence of many vicious propensities. There, on the side of the hill, is a flock of sheep and goats. The large ram, in front, with a bell upon his neck, is the patriarch of the flock. I see approaching them two small boys, and they now commence dri- ving them home, where, in a large corral,"^ they are herded for the night. *A corral is a pen into which horses, sheep and cat- 5* 54 PICTURES OF LIFE. Women, boys and girls, with earthen pans in their hands, enter the en- closure by a gate, and commence milking the sheep and goats. The animals seem docile, and are well taught to submit to this operation. Each, as she is approached for the purpose, throws back the hind leg, thereby exposing the udder more fully for the convenience of the milker, who, having finished, passes on to the next, until the whole flock yields up its milky treasure to its owners. In Europe and the United States, the merchant transports his goods, and the farmer his produce, by means of canals, railroads, and steamboats ; tie i » Jriven. It is a simple enclosure, made by plac- ing \ ' "ht in the earth large pieces of timber, as trunks oi % interwoven with brush wood. PICTURES OF LIFE. 55 but in Mexico, the back of the pa- tient and laborious mule conveys, from one extremity of the republic to the other, all commercial and ag- ricultural products. The Aniero or mule driver, is a being sui generis ; honest, industrious, inured, by hard- ships and exposure, to all weathers and seasons, he pursues his profes- sion, like his fathers before him, re- gardless alike of the political con- vulsions which have from time to time shaken his devoted country, and of the encroachments of a foreign power ; transporting, for his own ar- mies, subsistence and supplies, and affording the same facilities to those of the invader. These humble but important agents of the commerce of an extensive country, are remark- 56 PICTURES OF LIFE. able for the simplicity of their char- acter and the integrity of their deal- ings. Merchandize of the most val- uable description, and silver and gold, in bullion and coin, to a vast amount, are constantly entrusted to their care, and not a solitary instance has been known of a breach of trust. They generally travel in compa- nies of six, eight or ten, each own- ing from five to twenty or even forty mules. The compensation for each mule is about fifty cents a day. Their mode of travelling is to begin the day an hour after dawn, and pursue their way at a slow walk, until they have made fifteen miles, v/hich is considered a common day's journey. Having completed this, they take the packs from their mules, PICTURES OF LIFE. 57 and arranging them in a square, turn the mules loose upon the plain, where they feed undisturbed until the ensuing morning, when the route is resumed. Thus they rest during the heat of the day and the whole afternoon. After this manner goods are conveyed hundreds of miles into the interior. What large house is that glisten- ing with its white walls in the dis- tance 1 It is the hacienda, or country seat of Don Ignatio Raymond, the owner of these wild wastes for thir- ty leagues around. That ranche or village, peopled by a hundred strong- men, is the dwelling of his peons, or serfs. The heavy building, as you draw near, exhibits no architectural taste. Its walls three feet in thick- 58 PICTURES OF LIFE. ness, its flat and heavy roof, its wild and cheerless halls, its courts sur- rounded by a stone fence sixteen feet in height, the old, low wheeled, heavy chariot, a vehicle of the mid- dle ages, drawn by eight mules, all tend to transport us back to scenes familiar to the eyes of Englishmen in the fifteenth century. The iron hand of a military despotism, under the liberal name of a republic, has held within its deadly and unrelent- ing grasp, the rights and liberties of this besotted race. Ignorance, Su- perstition, Idolatry and Vice having full possession of at least ninety -nine hundredths of the people, the power and intelligence of the few serve but to wither and oppress the energies and talents of the multitude. Like PICTURES OF LIFE. 59 the old Roman empire hastening to its dissolution, the true rights of rep- resentation have been abused and neglected. The power of the gov- ernment increases as we approach the capital, while the frontier, ex- posed, without protection, to contra- bandists and the incursions of the wild Camanches and other savages, has fallen into a state of anarchy and dissolution. It has been supposed that the in- stitution of Slavery existed no where on this continent save in the United States ; but a slavery, more revolt- ing and degrading, is an integral part of the laws of Mexico. The Peons are native born Mexicans, brethren of the same complexion, the same blood, and originally having the same CO PICTURES OF LIFE. rights with their masters. But fall- ing, through misfortune, under the law which subjects any Mexican to be sold for his debts, these wretched beings, with their wives and child- ren, are held in irremediable bond- age. Unlike the slave in the United States, who can by industry pur- chase his freedom, the rigid, iron laws of their own land, inhibit this ; for, after a Mexican has come within the ban of this law, a certain com- pensation is allowed for food and raiment for himself and family. The amount is barely sufficient to pro- cure the necessaries of life ; and thus he and his miserable offspring pine in hopeless bondage. This curse has descended from father to son, embracing the whole family from PICTURES OF LIFE, 61 generation to generation. Hence they are the serfs of the Western Continent. Among all enlightened nations, one of the greatest safeguards to civil liberty and the rights of man is that of trial by jury. This institu- tion appears to have sprung up dur- ing earlier ages, and is a part of our inheritance from our Saxon fathers. With prevailing views upon the sub- ject, \n,w v^ould be incomplete and our liberties ever at the mercy of the caprice of government or the vil- lany of man, without this bulwark. Nothing, perhaps, more fully illus- trates to us the imbecility of the laws in Mexico than the fact that this institution is unknown among them. A criminal accused of a cap- 62 PICTURES OF LIFE. ital offence is thrown into the cala- boose^ or prison, and the witnesses, upon an appointed day, are sum- moned to appear before two or three Alcaldes, or magistrates. Their tes- timony is taken down in writing; the criminal is not confronted with them, and is therefore unable to rebut the evidence by counter testimony. The depositions are forwarded from this court to a Judge, who decides finally upon the case. If his deci- sion be adverse to the prisoner, the latter is taken out and shot, the only mode of capital punishment known in Mexico. Of all the objects that meet the eye of man, none can easily surpass the sublimity and magnificence of the Sierras, or mountain ranges, in PICTURES OF LIFE. 63 the regions about Monterey. Com- mencing our marches with the rising of the sun, the softness and mellow- ness of the air, the mountains rising like a wall in the clear, cloudless atmosphere, the purple tinge hang- ing like a garment around their sides, the rich and fertile valley of Monterey, blest with a climate un- known to any spot in this western hemisphere, might render it a fitting habitation for the gods, or some Ely- sian field of the ancients. The fig, pomegranate, orange, peach, grape ; every vegetable, the products both of the torrid and the temperate zones, spring in rich profusion from the bosom of the earth. Much like the fabled Happy Valley of Rasse- las, this terrestrial Eden, with lavish €4 PICTURES OF LIFE. profusion, blends every charm and every attraction to make it a chosen spot upon earth. See wayward fancy guides her rising flight "Where yonder city smiling meets the sight ; Full many a rolling hill and fertile dale There fling their odors on the southern gale ; The mountain clad in robes of purple light, Meadows less gorgeous, valleys freshly bright, Decked in their garments of eternal green, My eye invited and refreshed when seen : Woodlands I sought upon the mountain side, No forests wave o'er Aztec's hilly pride ; Few mighty monarchs deck yon lofty brow, That 'neath the tempest's fury scorn to bow, Save where some stubborn aged oak were riven That impious long had dared the bolts of hea- ven. Standing upon an eminence, to the south, the v^^iite w^alls of the PICTURES OF LIFE. 65 massive Palace of the Bishop, upon a high hill, overlook the city and the plain below, like some guardian ge- nius. On the north, the battlements of the Black Fort, upon the plain, frown forth defiance : while the city itself, embosomed in groves of orange and pomegranate, a mountain tor- rent sweeping through its centre, its white stone buildings and terraced gardens, its canals for irrigation, and the rich champaign country, teem- ing with the sugar cane and maize, with wheat and barley, like ^Sicily itself, a wilderness of fertility, beto- ken an enterprize, industry and in- telligence which I here witnessed for the first time in this country. *Eine Wiiste der Fruchtbarkeit — Goethe.. 6* 66 PICTURES OF LIFE. The education and refinement of the people, too, give evidence of abet- ter state of things. Here is a college in which are tauorht the latin lanouag^e and the elements of some of the sciences. The clergy here have claims to a degree of education, and- are as well dressed as the clergy in our own land. They are polite and courteous, while the Mexican gentry represent, in a most creditable man- ner, the respectability of their class. The ladies, too, borrow a polish and elegance from contact with their enlightened lords. The peon manu- factures for them the everlasting tor- tilla, and supersedes the necessity of this manual labor on their part. In the vicinity are rich mining possessions, and many of the weal- PICTURES OF LIFE. QJ thier classes of Monterey own, in the bowels of the earth, countless treasures in silver ore. About five leagues from the city is Ma?naluque, the magnificent haci- enda of General Arista. On this es- tate, surrounded in profusion by every comfort within the reach of a Mexican gentleman, he spends those leisure hours that are not devoted to the service of his country ; distin- guished among his countrymen and strangers for intelligence, hospitality and integrity ; beloved by his peonSf and admired and respected by all Northern Mexico. Owing to the sparsely-peopled territory in this part of Mexico, the remissness or connivance of the guardians of the customs, and 68 PICTURES OF LIFE. the heavy duties imposed by the government upon all articles of for- eign commerce, great facilities are afforded for an extensive and lucra- tive contraband trade. A few en- terprising adventurers from the Uni- ted States, headed by a man of great intelligence, Col. Kinney, settled a trading ranche at the head of Corpus Christi bay, in Texas, called Kin- ney's ranche. Here, for three years, these men, hourly exposed to attacks from the wandering Camanches, drove a lucrative commerce with the Mexicans, in tobacco and dry goods. Week after week the reckless Mex- icans would come across the desert from the Rio Grande, loaded with silver, in bullion and coin, and pur- chase, at an enormous advance, the PICTURES OF LIFE. 69 goods of the Americans ; which, having packed upon mules, they would smuggle into their own coun- try, and sell at a high profit. This trade was carried on, on the part of the Mexicans, at great hazards, and much exposure and privation. Night after night, in accomplishing this object, they were compelled to lie upon the bare ground, and subsist upon jerked beef and baked corn- meal, mixed with water ; not only at the risk of being captured by the soldiers of their government, who were occasionally sent out to cut off their return, but also at the penalty of losing all the property actually in their possession, and of imprison- ment for some months, at Metamo- ros. 70 PICTURES OF LIFE. A certain ease and politeness of manner mark the Mexican charac- ter. These prevail universally, from the higher to the lowest classes ; and the men, though treacherous, will extend to the stranger the hand of courtesy and the bread of hospi- tality ; while the women, possessed of a native grace and elegance of bearing, arrest the passer-by, and force an involuntary tribute to their beauty. They are, when permitted, social and familiar, and are particu- larly pleased with the attentions of Americans. But great care must be taken not to excite the jealousy of their husbands and guardians, who, ever suspicious of any marked devotion, would strike with the sti- letto on the first favorable opportu- nity. PICTURES OF LIFE. 71 Come with us to the river San Juan. See those graceful maidens^ with large water jugs on their heads, like Rebecca at the well. Every evening, as the sun declines, they come down to the water's brink. Having filled the jars and put them aside, stripping the mantilla from the head, the flowing gown from the person, a band of maidens, in all their native charms, like Eve in the unashamed innocence of Paradise, plunge into the stream, and enjoy the luxury of a refreshing bath, af- ter the sultry heats and domestic labors of the loom and the kitchen. At length, leaving the river, and donning their apparel, they take their water jugs upon their heads, and, with elastic step and buoyant 72 PICTURES OF LIFE. spirits, with minds imtrameled by care, return to their homes. There is no sight more joyous than that of such a band of merry, buxom dam- sels, as with hght and healthy step they move along together, uncon- scious of the burden. In the beautiful village of Mier, celebrated in story for the fierce encounter between two or three hundred desperate Texans and a large body of Mexican troops, I one afternoon sauntered forth, to hear what was to be heard and to see what could be seen. In passing through the plaza, my steps were arrested by the busy hum of many voices. I turned in the direction of the sound, and coming to the door of a house near the Cathedral I PICTURES OF LIFE. 73 looked in, and there, sitting aroundj or rather strung round, upon the benches, the pedagogue, with rod and book in hand, was the Village School. The little urchins, for they were all boys, dressed in clean, white cainises and buckskin breech- es, were busily employed, hum- ming over to themselves their ap- pointed stirits ; while two or three were standinor before the master, reciting to him the well-conned task ; and he, ever and anon, urges them forward by voice and look, not without an occasional flourish of the rod. From that corner, three or four little muchachos rising up, ap- proach the master, asking leave to go to the river with their gourds. With joyous shouts they leave the 74 PICTURES OF LIFE. house, sporting on the road, they gain the river, and filhng each shaver his calabash, return and sit down to finish their task. Thus, in every age, in every country, the same dis- tinctive Hues may be traced in each profession : *' There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, " The village master taught his little school ; V A man severe he was, and stern to view, " I knew him well, and every truant knew ; "Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace " The day's disasters in his morning face ; " Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee " At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; " Full well the busy whisper, circling round, " Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frown- ed ; *' Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, " The love he bore to learning was in fault ; PICTURES OF LIFE. 75 " The village all declared how much he knew, " 'Twas certain he could write and cypher too ; ****** " "While words of learned length and thunder- ing sound " Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around, " And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew " That one small head could carry all he knew." WMiMI. mMy^^^ u^m^mmi %ii^^m , .J J J -y^'^ ^'■'ctv ^^m^ WiMyukHVM "mm;. ■ :U^^l^^^ .AAn^'^>»w^^^OA«A! Aa/^a^a cfSt^ h^M*.fr8An^ f^m^fmmm mm^: k/^rvAAAAr ■AAr^rsA^nf ^'oohh'^A^A'A ^^''7i^i%m .,f\mm^'^,MMsfff^ ^^^^^^AASkS^A^ i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 01 1 896 911 A i