- 1215 
 .P35 
 3opy 1 
 
 IN THE FOOTSTEPS 
 
 OF CORTES 
 
 AN ILLUSTRATED LECTURE BY 
 
 HENRY G. PEABODY 
 

 Mexican-Spanish Pronunciation and Accent. 
 
 a is pronounced like English a in father. 
 
 e " " " a in take. 
 
 i " " " einbe. 
 
 o " " " o in bone. 
 
 u " " " oo in spoon. 
 
 j like aspirated h in heal. 
 
 ch, same as in chair. 
 
 u when preceded by q is always silent. 
 
 c is soft before e and i, as in cent. 
 
 c is hard before a, o, u, 1, r, like English k. 
 
 g is hard before a, o, u, 1, r, same as in English. 
 
 g, before e and i, like aspirated h in heal. 
 
 g is silent before ua. Agua is pronounced awa. 
 
 h is always silent. 
 
 11 as though followed by y. Caballero is pronounced cabalyero. 
 
 n as though followed by y. Senor is pronounced senyor. 
 
 q like k in English. Is only found in the combinations que and qui, 
 
 in which the u is silent, 
 x usually like s. Tlaxcala is pronounced Tlascala. 
 y, as consonant, like y in you. 
 y, as vowel, (meaning "and,") like ee. 
 Vd., pronounced oostaid, an abbreviation meaning "you." 
 Other letters are pronounced as in English. 
 
 The accent is on the penult in words ending in a vowel, or in n or 
 s ; on the last syllable in words ending in a consonant. Exceptions 
 have the accented syllable marked. 
 
 DEC 30 1918 
 
 ©CI.A511138 
 
IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF CORTES 
 
 Copyright, 1907, 1918, by He nry G. Peab ody, Pasadena, California. 
 
 IN the great problem of human destiny, whenever a crisis demands 
 the genius of a Napoleon or a Washington, Providence invariably 
 supplies the man to meet it. No chapter in the World's history exem- 
 plifies this fact more emphatically than the Mexican conquest ; for no 
 other instance is on record where an enterprise of such vastness has 
 been consummated, in the face of almost insurmountable obstacles, by 
 means of resources created by the genius of a single man. In fact, 
 the history of the conquest is necessarily the biography of Hernando 
 Cortes, the Conquistador. 
 
 Although the Mexico of today affords few relics of the Spanish 
 conquest, yet one who has read Prescott's narrative will find many 
 familiar landmarks as he follows the route taken by Cortes in his march 
 to the Aztec capital. The steamship journey from New York to Vera 
 Cruz lands the passenger at the very spot where Cortes first set foot 
 in Montezuma's empire. It also affords a visit to Havana, the harbor 
 from which his squadron sailed on its voyage of conquest. Shall we 
 not, then, preface our trip to Mexico with a few glimpses of this typi- 
 cal Spanish city, which, less than 100 years ago was, next to the City 
 of Mexico itself, the most populous in the western hemisphere. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of a clear and bracing day in January, 1899, 
 the " Orizaba " left her New York pier and steamed out through the 
 Narrows toward the Sandy Hook Lightship. The Lower Bay of New 
 York is one of the principal waterways of the commercial world. In 
 former years our ships and barques sailed the waters of every sea, and 
 carried our commerce to the uttermost corners of the earth. That 
 modern institution, the tramp steamer, has practically driven the pict- 
 uresque square-rigger from the highways of the sea, but, on rare occa- 
 sions they are still seen, and as. we turn the point of Sandy Hook we 
 pass one, outward bound. To those who love the sea there is always 
 
a fascination in the towering pyramid of patched and weatherbeaten 
 canvas and the stately and majestic motion it imparts to the homely, 
 but substantial, hull beneath. While we are still speculating on the 
 destination and cargo of this relic of bygone days we reach the Sandy 
 Hook Lightship, the pilot leaves us, our captain assumes command of 
 the steamer and turns her prow toward the distant shore of Cuba. 
 
 The sight which greeted our eyes as the " Orizaba " rounded Morro 
 Castle and entered the harbor of Havana was a thrilling one. Only a 
 few days before American troops had taken possession of the fortifica- 
 tions and public buildings of the city. The red and yellow emblem of 
 tyranny had disappeared forever from the last stronghold of that vast 
 empire which formerly acknowledged the authority of Spain over four- 
 fifths of the western hemisphere. And there, above the frowning guns 
 of El Morro, against the deep blue of a tropic sky, proudly floated the 
 Stars and Stripes. One can never fully realize how much he loves the 
 dear old emblem until he sees it in a foreign land. 
 
 Before our anchor had fairly reached the bottom we were beset by 
 a flotilla of small boats, the boatmen pushing and struggling among 
 themselves to be the first to reach the gangway. Coming on board 
 they laid siege to the unsophisticated " passajeros " in a manner that 
 would have afforded pointers to the most importunate crowd of New 
 York hack men. In some cases it is well to go early to avoid the rush, 
 but in this instance we decided to wait until the rush was over. As 
 our steamer was to remain for several days discharging freight, we 
 would have ample time to view the city. 
 
 Having settled the question of "pesettas" with one of the native 
 boatmen he hoisted sail and we were soon on our way ashore. Our 
 course carried us directly by the wreck of the ill-fated " Maine." All 
 that remained above water of the once beautiful battleship was an un- 
 sightly heap of scrap iron, a reminder of one of the most appalling 
 acts of treachery the world has witnessed. In a few minutes we were 
 alongside the wharf and stepped ashore in a city as essentially foreign 
 in its characteristics as though it lay beyond the Atlantic. 
 
 A few minutes walk brought us to a large square, the Plaza de 
 Armas, and facing it stood the palace of the Governor-General, the 
 executive mansion of Cuba. The plaza was tilled with tents, for our 
 soldier boys were camped in all the public squares and parks through- 
 out the city. In the centre of the plaza is a statue of Ferdinand VII, 
 on either side of which rise lofty and imposing royal palms, their 
 spreading branches bending gracefully before the breeze, as though in 
 homage to the glorious emblem which floated above the palace tower, 
 proclaiming peace and liberty throughout the land. 
 
Leaving the palace of the Governor-General a short walk brings us 
 to the Prado, the Broadway of Havana. However narrow and alley- 
 like other Havana streets may be, this is a broad and stately avenue, 
 bordered by imposing buildings and occasional plazas, with grateful 
 shade trees and cooling fountains. In the centre of the block beyond 
 is l'lngleterra, Havana's Waldorf-Astoria, and, adjoining it on the left, 
 one of the principal theatres of the city. The architecture of Havana 
 buildings is solid and substantial, their portales cool and shady, and 
 their rooms large and airy, while the rattle of the carriages and mule 
 carts over the rough cobble-stone pavement reminds us strikingly of 
 our own New York-. 
 
 Crowning a lofty eminence on the opposite shore of Havana Har- 
 bor stands La Cabana, the greatest fortress in the new world, and which 
 cost the treasury of Spain the round sum of fourteen million dollars. 
 When the accounts were presented to the Spanish monarch it is related 
 that he went to his palace window and looked steadily westward. On 
 being asked his reason for so doing he is said to have remarked that 
 he expected to see the castle walls rising above the horizon, since it 
 was large enough to have cost so much. From the water's edge a 
 paved and covered way leads upward to the fortress. 
 
 The main entrance is on the north side toward the ocean. Beyond 
 the drawbridge crossing the moat is a royal gateway bearing the arms 
 of Spain. Over the heavy doors, on a semi-circular tablet of marble, 
 is an inscription giving the date on which the construction of Cabana 
 was begun, its name, and the names of the various officials engaged in 
 the work. Immediately above this is an enormous shield of brown 
 sandstone, on which are carved the arms of his Catholic Majesty, Car- 
 los III. As we looked upon this massive entrance it seemed that its 
 most fitting inscription would be those portentous words of Dante, 
 " All hope abandon, ye who enter here." For, of all the innumerable 
 throngs who have passed within these walls, few there have been who 
 did not, literally, leave hope behind. 
 
 The heights of La Cabana overlook El Morro, and Antonelli, the 
 engineer who designed the latter fortress, once said while standing 
 here, " He who takes the position of the Cabana will have the city 
 also." Unfortunately for the Spaniards, however, these prophetic 
 words were not heeded, but were recalled many years after his death, 
 when, from this same hill in 1 762, the British attacked the weakest 
 side of the Morro, and captured Havana. The following year, within 
 three months after the evacuation of Havana by the British, work was 
 begun on the castle of Cabana. It was built by convict labor from 
 Mexico, and was completed in a year. But it was a case of locking 
 
4 
 
 the stable after the horse had been stolen, for, although " El Castillo 
 de San Carlos de la Cabana " was the greatest fortress in the new 
 world, and mounted more than 200 guns, it has never fired a shot to 
 repel an enemy. Its silent guns speak only to salute an incoming na- 
 val vessel, bound on some peaceful errand to the quaint old city. 
 
 10 As we turned to leave Cabana the sun was slowly sinking in the 
 west. Its golden rays softened and blended harmoniously the many 
 tinted walls and roofs of the ancient city. The calm surface of the 
 gently heaving sea, breaking softly against the rocky base of the fort- 
 ress, was overspread with a ruddy glow. And, crowning all, from the 
 Morro's tallest staff, our country's flag waved a silent benediction. 
 Then, as the edge of the slowly sinking sun touched the horizon line, 
 from across the harbor entrance there floated the glorious strains of the 
 " Star Spangled Banner." As the last notes died away, and while the 
 echoes of the sunset gun were still reverberating among the gloomy 
 walls of the Morro, our flag came slowly down, reflecting in its descent 
 the sun's last lingering rays, the harbinger of new light, new life, and 
 liberty for the new Republic. 
 
 11 As day is breaking upon the final morning of our voyage, we enter 
 the harbor of Vera Cruz, the very spot where the fleet of Cortes first 
 came to anchor on Good Friday, 1519. And the largest Mexican sea- 
 port of today is the outgrowth of that first settlement made under the 
 name of La -Villa Rica de la Santa Vera Cruz, "The Rich City of the 
 Holy True Cross." One might well wonder what richness the sandy, 
 marshy site of the pioneer settlement promised, but the magnificent 
 and sumptuous gifts of gold and ornamental work here received by 
 Cortes from the envoys of Montezuma undoubtedly suggested that 
 portion of the title. As our steamer comes to anchor a swarm of 
 boatmen hover near, none daring to come on board, however, until the 
 lowering of the health officer's yellow flag announces the inspection 
 over. Then a few minutes suffice to land us at the pier. 
 
 12 On our way to the railway station we pass several members of the 
 street cleaning department. In one respect this resembles the New 
 York department : its members are all dressed alike. But while the 
 men of the New York brigade wear white uniforms, the Vera Cruz 
 force is dressed in black. Its members also work without salary and 
 find themselves. To Vera Cruzers these useful members of society are 
 known as "zopilotes," but to the American they are simply buzzards, 
 which the city authorities protect by an ordinance providing a heavy 
 penalty for killing them. 
 
 13 Vera Cruz has one redeeming feature: there is a railway by which 
 we may get away. For the best thing to do after reaching the city of 
 
5 
 
 Vera Cruz is to leave it as soon as possible. In spite of the well di- 
 rected efforts of the garbage commissioners their number is too small 
 to accomplish the work effectually, and, as Vera Cruz has no special at- 
 tractions for the visitor, we will seek a higher altitude. The train from 
 Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico leaves early in the morning, but as an 
 afternoon train runs to Orizaba, a city at an elevation of 4000 feet, we 
 may arrange to spend the night far above the malaria of the coast. 
 
 14 Leaving Vera Cruz, the train runs for fifty miles across the level 
 stretches of the " tierra caliente," or hot country. After crossing a bar- 
 ren and sandy waste we enter a region of exuberant fertility. Dense 
 thickets of aromatic shrubs and flowers are interwoven with a network 
 of tangled vines, while here and there, through some palm-embowered 
 vista, appears a glistening dome, for we are in a land of churches. But 
 in the midst of all this bloom and beauty lurks the hidden malaria, 
 rendering the tierra caliente a " tierra de muerte." From April to No- 
 vember the lowlands should not be entered by those unacclimated, and 
 Americans who have descended from the table-land within these months 
 are quarantined at the border on their return to the United States. 
 
 15 As we approach the foothills the scenery grows more beautiful. 
 Rushing streams intersect our pathway, and occasionally we pass a 
 bridge of the ancient highway connecting Vera Cruz with the City 
 of Mexico. One of the most picturesque of these is an old stone 
 arch, moss-grown and hung with vines, which spans the Chiquihuiti. 
 However rough and well-nigh impassable the primitive Spanish road- 
 ways may be, the bridges are marvels of strength and durability, while 
 age has given them that ineffable touch of color which harmonizes so 
 perfectly with their tropical environment. After crossing the Chiqui- 
 huiti River we begin in earnest our ascent of the foothills, and the tierra 
 caliente, with its swamps and fevers, is left behind us. 
 
 16 As we emerge suddenly from a long tunnel, we see, far below, the 
 beautiful fall of Atoyac. Waterfalls, in Mexico, are rare, especially 
 during the winter, or dry season. As the beauty of a jewel is oft-times 
 enhanced by its setting, so does Atoyac apparently gain in lustre from 
 the very density of the impenetrable mass of surrounding verdure. 
 But before we are fairly impressed with the exquisite beauty of this 
 rare and resplendent gem, it has vanished from our sight, and a turn 
 of the magic kaleidoscope brings new and interesting visions. 
 
 17 Here and there, peeping out from beneath a waving canopy of 
 spreading palms, we catch a fleeting glimpse of the tile-roofed hut of 
 a native peon. We are now passing through the "tierra templada," 
 or temperate zone of Mexico. One of the most wonderful features of 
 this wonderful country is the fact that, within a single day's ride, we 
 
pass through all the successive climatic changes that exist from Florida 
 to Maine. Instead of following degrees of latitude, however, the zones 
 of Mexico are arranged like a flight of stairs. As we gradually ascend 
 from the coast, we pass successively from the tropics to the pine-fringed 
 expanse of the table-land, above which tower still loftier heights, eter- 
 nally wreathed in snow and ice. 
 
 1 8 But we must not anticipate, for as yet we have only ascended about 
 one-third of the distance to the table-land. Towards nightfall we reach 
 the station at Cordova, and as the scenery between Cordova and Ori- 
 zaba is too beautiful to be passed in darkness, we will remain over night 
 at the former place, and go on by the morning train. Each town in 
 Mexico has some special article of which it has a sort of monopoly. 
 At Aguas Calientes it is drawn work, at Irapuato strawberries, at Api- 
 zaco canes, and at Cordova pineapples, bananas and other sub-tropical 
 fruits. Mexico is an ancient country. Its settlements were located 
 long before the days of railroads, and, consequently, most Mexican 
 towns are a mile or more distant from the railway station, conveyance 
 being afforded by tram-cars. A ride of ten minutes brings us to " El 
 Gran Hotel America," where we spend our first night in Mexico. 
 
 19 With the dawning light of day we step upon the window balcony 
 to view the landscape. Whatever else of our tour in Mexico may fade 
 from memory, this matchless scene will never be forgotten. The first 
 beams of the rising sun, streaming across the tile-roofed buildings, tinge 
 with glowing colors the domes and towers of an ancient church. In 
 the distance, crowning all, towers the stately, snow-capped peak of 
 Orizaba, the " Mountain of the Star," and the highest point in Mexico. 
 Indeed, by the latest measurements, which place its altitude at 18,200 
 feet, it becomes, perhaps, with the exception of Mount McKinley, the 
 loftiest mountain in North America, exceeding even Mount St. Elias. 
 
 20 Leaving Cordova, the railway runs directly toward Mount Orizaba, 
 and is bordered for many miles on either side by a constant succession 
 of banana groves and coffee plantations. The contrast, as we raise our 
 eyes from this profusion of tropical verdure to the snow and ice above, 
 is strange and startling". But what, at first sight, is stranger still, is the 
 fact that in summer the mountain is much whiter than in winter, as we 
 see it now. Summer, in Mexico, is the rainy season. The mornings, 
 as a rule, are bright and sunny, but each afternoon and evening brings 
 a cooling and refreshing shower, which, on the mountain top, is turned 
 to snow. This immaculate garment, however, during the long dry 
 season from October to June, constantly exposed to the burning rays 
 of a tropic sun, gradually shrinks and dwindles, although it never 
 wholly disappears. 
 
21 We are now passing through the great coffee zone of Mexico. This 
 
 productive region, varying in width according to the steepness of the 
 incline, lies along the slopes of the Cordilleras, at an elevation of from 
 3000 to 4000 feet, on both the Gulf and Pacific coasts. Coffee is one 
 of the great staple productions of Mexico, and the the white buildings 
 of the haciendas, embowered in palms and flowering plants, are a fre- 
 quent sight as we traverse the coffee zone. One of the most extensive 
 of these haciendas is near the station of Fortin, and while the train is 
 waiting we will make a brief inspection. Passing through the impos- 
 ing gateway we walk through spacious grounds, shaded by royal palms 
 and variegated with fountains and the floral bloom of the tropics. On 
 the left, surmounted by a tower and gilded cross, is the hacienda chap- 
 el, its interior beautifully decorated, and a veritable museum of art. 
 The proprietor greets us courteously and conducts us through the es- 
 tablishment. 
 
 22» Within the hacienda walls great hoppers are filled with coffee ber- 
 ries, which, at a distance, look like cranberries. The machinery sepa- 
 rates the pulp from the inside kernels, which, after being washed, are 
 spread out in the sun to dry. The flat roofs of the hacienda buildings, 
 and the great cemented floor of the patio, or inner courtyard, are used 
 for this purpose. The coffee, spread out in thin layers, remains ex- 
 posed to the sun until thoroughly dry, when it is scraped up in heaps, 
 packed in bags, and is ready for shipment. Our illustration shows the 
 coffee, spread out to dry in several sections of the patio, gathered into 
 heaps in others, and in the lower right hand corner is a train of burros, 
 waiting to convey it to the railroad station. 
 
 23 What the camel is to Egypt, the burro is to Mexico. Wherever 
 one goes he encounters these patient and dignified little animals, which 
 have acted as a substitute for wagons, canal-boats, and, until recently, 
 even for railroads. The materials for all the great cathedrals of Mex- 
 ico have been transported on the backs of burros. Mexico owes much 
 to President Diaz, who brought order out of chaos ; much to Juarez, 
 who threw off the last shackle of royalty ; a great deal to Hidalgo, who 
 struck the first blow for independence ; something even to Cortes, who 
 achieved the conquest ; but she also owes an incomputable debt to the 
 burro, which, for four centuries, has patiently borne all her burdens. 
 
 24 Exactly midway in the vertical ascent from the coast to the table- 
 land, on a level plain walled in on every side by towering mountains, 
 lies the city of Orizaba. Our view is taken from the Cerro de Borre- 
 go, a hill on the outskirts of the city, where, in 1862, one hundred 
 French Zouaves surprised and defeated between four and five thousand 
 Mexicans. Beneath us, in the foreground, is the " Plaza de Toros," 
 
8 
 
 for every Mexican city of importance has its bull fights. Since leaving 
 Vera Cruz we have traveled but eighty -two miles, although we have 
 ascended more than 4000 feet. Owing to this altitude Orizaba has 
 always been considered exempt from yellow fever, which, in summer, 
 infests the cities lower down. On that account it is a great resort for 
 all who can get away from the fever stricken cities of the coast. 
 
 25 Leaving Orizaba, we begin the final climb of 4000 feet to the Mex- 
 ican plateau. Another locomotive, of peculiar construction, has been 
 attached to our train, for an ordinary engine would be unable to over- 
 come the steepness of the grades before us. This is a Fairlee locomo- 
 tive, built in England, and its construction is on the same plan as that 
 of Mexican matches : both ends are alike. When a Mexican asks you 
 
 ' for a light he always returns the unused end of the match with a defer- 
 ential bow, and a "muchas gracias, senor." The Mexican Railway, 
 for the first half of the distance from Vera Cruz to the national capital, 
 does not follow the route of Cortes, who ascended to the table-land 
 further to the north, and on the opposite side of Mount Orizaba. But 
 the scenic features of the railway route are far superior to the section 
 which the conqueror traversed in his uneventful climb, and, after reach- 
 ing the plateau, we shall pass through the various places made historic 
 by his achievements. 
 
 26 At Maltrata we make a last stop to feed and water our tandem team 
 of iron horses, before beginning the final test of their endurance in over- 
 coming the steepest ascent of all. Reaching the top of the final terrace, 
 let us for an instant take a backward glance below. Spread out beneath 
 us, like the squares of some vast checker-board, are the streets and gar- 
 dens of Maltrata. It lies more than 2000 feet beneath us, and, in an air 
 line, less than two miles away, yet, to accomplish this ascent, we have 
 squirmed and twisted and zigzagged more than five times that distance. 
 The commodity offered the tourist by Maltrata Indians is mostly floral. 
 When the descending train reaches Alta Luz, our present standpoint, 
 the traveler is besieged by these aggressive peddlers and offered the 
 most beautiful orchids. But do not be in a hurry to purchase, for, on 
 arrival at Maltrata, 2000 feet below, you will find that these very In- 
 dians have taken the short cut and arrived before you, and the price of 
 the orchids has dropped in direct ratio to the decrease in altitude. 
 
 27 On the edge of the table-land we stop at Esperanza, the dining sta- 
 tion. What a contrast ! Before us stretches a level plain, as far as the 
 eye can reach, bordered on either side by lofty mountains. On the 
 right is the culminating peak of Orizaba, now towering, white and glis- 
 tening, far above the clouds, which, lower down, were wrapped about 
 it like a mantle. In the rarefied atmosphere of the table-land, at this 
 
altitude of 8000 feet, objects are defined so sharply that we are very 
 much deceived as to their actual distance. The mountain before us, 
 for example, which appears within the limits of a comfortable walk, 
 is not less than thirty miles away. 
 
 28 Apizaco is the cane station. Incidentally, also, it is the junction 
 where the road to Puebla branches off from the main line of the Mex- 
 ican Railway. But it is for its canes that it is chiefly remembered by 
 the tourist — canes of all sizes, shapes and colors; canes with snakes 
 entwined around them, and canes embellished with queer looking Aztec 
 carvings. Canes may be bought at many bazaars in Mexico, it is true, 
 but nearly all of them come from Apizaco. The railway fron Apizaco 
 to Puebla follows approximately the route of Cortes, as he traversed 
 the territory of Tlaxcala. This republic, it will be remembered, refused 
 allegiance and tribute to Montezuma, and, what is more, had always 
 maintained its independence. 
 
 29 Tlaxcala, probably more than any other city in Mexico, is replete 
 with characteristic features and relics of the conquest. Most interest- 
 ing among them is the old church of San Francisco, the oldest on this 
 continent, founded in 1 52 1 . In the large chapel of Tercer Orden, open- 
 ing from the nave, we see on the right the very pulpit from which the 
 Christian faith was first preached on this continent. It bears this in- 
 scription : " Aqui tubo principio el Santo Evangelio en este nuevo mun- 
 do." ( Here the Holy Evangel had its beginning in this new world.) 
 The High Altar, beyond, is exceptionally rich in gilded carvings. 
 
 30 Turning now, and looking in the opposite direction, we have a near 
 view of the pulpit on the left, and in the right-hand corner, near the 
 entrance, we see a large stone font. This is an especially interesting 
 relic, for, at this very font, in 1521, were baptized the four Tlaxcalan 
 chiefs who were the first converts to Christianity in the new world. 
 The intent of the Spanish cavalier was fully as much the conversion of 
 the soul as the conquest of the body. No victory, therefore, could be 
 considered complete until the conquered nation had discarded its idol- 
 atrous worship, and had accepted the true faith, no matter how sudden 
 the change, or how violent the means of persuasion. 
 
 31 One of the sights of Tlaxcala is the Santuario de Ocotlan, standing 
 upon a hill on the outskirts of the city. Here, soon after the conquest, 
 according to tradition, a miraculous spring gushed forth, to reward the 
 quest of a pious Indian, at the bidding of the Blessed Virgin. It has 
 been, therefore, one of the most famous shrines in Mexico, and large 
 sums of money have been lavished upon its embellishment. The front 
 is ornamented with carved stonework of intricate design, flanked on 
 either side with a surface of dark red tiles. 
 
10 
 
 32 But the most famous and wonderful feature of the church is the 
 interior, to the decoration of which the noted Indian sculptor, Francisco 
 Miguel, devoted twenty-five years of laborious and painstaking work. 
 Our illustration represents the ceiling of the camarin, taken with the 
 camera on the floor and pointing directly upward. In the centre is a 
 white dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit, around which in a circle are 
 polychrome figures of apostles, their feet resting on a circle of white 
 and gold cloud. Below are marvelous and intricate designs in arabesque 
 stucco, brilliantly colored, and revealing such consummate taste and 
 talent as we can scarcely believe were possessed by a nativelndian artist. 
 
 33 Nestling at the eastern base of Popocatepetl, the great volcano, its 
 dwindling population scattered broadcast over a level plain, lies the an- 
 cient city of Cholula. Churches innumerable, that have risen since 
 the conquest, are now deserted and crumbling in decay. Of the idol- 
 atrous Aztec temples, whose altar fires were brightly burning when the 
 Spaniard came, we find no trace. But, although its traditions and as- 
 sociations are all of which the Cholula of today can boast, there is no 
 place in Mexico more interesting to the archaeologist. For, as we look 
 beneath this crumbling arch, we see in the distance, surmounted by a 
 modern church, a relic of an epoch before the Aztec — an artificial 
 structure of unknown age and of mysterious origin. 
 
 34 Let us approach nearer, and obtain an unobstructed view of what 
 appears to be a natural hill, but what is in reality an artificial mound, 
 the great pyramid of Cholula. It is built of alternate layers of brick 
 and clay, rises nearly 200 feet above the plain, and its base covers an 
 area of forty-four acres, being twice as long as that of the great pyra- 
 mid of Cheops. According to the traditions of the natives whom the 
 Aztecs found on the plain of Cholula, it was built by a family of giants. 
 These were descended from the two sole survivors of a great flood 
 which overspread the land, and their design was to raise this structure 
 to the skies. But the gods, offended at such presumption, sent fires 
 from Heaven, which forced them to abandon the attempt. The coin- 
 cidence of this tradition with the Chaldean and Hebrew accounts of the 
 Deluge and Tower of Babel is striking, even the confusion of tongues 
 having a parallel in the fact that more than 100 different dialects are 
 spoken among the Mexican Indians of today. 
 
 J ^ When Cortes ascended the pyramid, and looked over the sacred city 
 
 of Cholula, he counted 400 towers, yet no temple had more than two, 
 and many only one. While the temples have disappeared, the domes 
 and towers of nearly sixty Christian churches may now be counted 
 from Cholula 's pyramid. It is still a holy city, if, perchance, three- 
 score deserted and crumbling buildings are any measure of true sanctity. 
 
11 
 
 At the time of the conquest the pyramid of Cholula was surmounted 
 by an Indian temple, dedicated to that mystic deity, Quetzalcoatl. 
 
 36 This divinity, as we here observe, was represented as a feathered 
 serpent. In reality, however, he was a being of majestic and benig- 
 nant mien, fair of face, and with a long, flowing beard. This exem- 
 plary deity taught the Cholulans arts and trades, strict morality, and a 
 pure religion, free from human sacrifice. After a long sojourn among 
 them he took leave of his followers at the shore of the Mexican Gulf, 
 upon which he embarked and disappeared, promising, however, to re- 
 turn at some future time. His memory was deified by the Mexicans, 
 who confidently looked for his return. To this tradition Cortes un- 
 doubtedly owed much of his success, for many of the superstitious Az- 
 tecs saw in his appearance the fulfilment of the prophecy. Montezuma 
 himself shared this belief to some extent, but between his disinclination 
 to lose his empire and his fear to offend the strangers, he adopted faint- 
 hearted and half-way measures which were neither politic nor successful. 
 
 37 The view across the plain of Cholula is magnificent in the extreme. 
 On the left we see the symmetrical, tapering cone of Popocatepetl, 
 nearly 18,000 feet above sea level, and rising more than 10,000 feet 
 above the plain. It was long considered the highest mountain in Mex- 
 ico, but later measurements of Mount Orizaba have given Popocate- 
 petl the second place. On the right appears the long, snow-crested 
 ridge of Ixtaccihuatl, the " white woman." Although Popocatepetl has 
 long been quiescent, at the time of the conquest it was frequently in 
 eruption, and while the Spaniards were at Tlaxcala it raged with un- 
 common fury. This was looked upon by the superstitious Aztecs as 
 an evil omen for their destiny. From Cholula, the route of Cortes to 
 the City of Mexico lay directly across the ridge before us, between 
 these two mountain peaks. Beyond this mountain wall lies the fa- 
 mous Valley of Mexico, oval in shape, about sixty miles in length by 
 thirty in breadth, and about 7500 feet above sea level. In its centre 
 was formerly a large lake, many miles in extent, from the waters of 
 which rose the Aztec capital. It is now 400 years since Cortes crossed 
 this mountain wall and descended into this beautiful valley. Let us 
 go back still another 200 years, to the year 1325, to be exact. The 
 valley is uninhabited, and the only evidences of former dwellers are 
 the scattered Toltec ruins, representing a civilization as far in the past 
 as the Mexico of the twentieth century is in the future. 
 
 38 The early morning light shows a large band of Indians, who have 
 just entered the valley from the north, following the shore of the 
 lake. They are the Aztecs, and as they reach the southwestern bor- 
 der of the lake, they behold, perched on the stem of a thorny cactus, 
 
12 
 
 growing in a crevice of a rock, that is washed by the waves, a royal 
 eagle of great size and beauty, with a serpent in his talons, and his 
 broad wings opened to the rising sun. They hailed the auspicious 
 omen as indicating" the site of their future city, the construction of 
 which was begun immediately. The settlement which they founded 
 was called Tenochtitlan, meaning "cactus on a stone," and from this 
 small beginning" grew the mighty Aztec city which held sway over 
 the length and breadth of Mexico for 200 years. The legend of its 
 foundation is still perpetuated in the arms of the republic of modern 
 Mexico, the device now before you on the screen, and showing the 
 eagle with the snake, and the cactus on the rock. 
 
 39 At the time of the conquest the Tenochtitlan of the Aztecs, which 
 is the present City of Mexico, was the Venice of the western hemi- 
 sphere. The city was entirely surrounded by the waters of Lake 
 Tezcuco, being only accessible by four great causeways, approaching 
 the city from the four cardinal points. The picturesque Viga Canal, 
 with its swarms of native boats and boatmen, now follows the line of 
 the former southern causeway. This was the route over which Cortes 
 and his army marched into the Aztec capital. In addition to the in- 
 teresting historical associations of this locality, the Viga canal now 
 constitutes one of the principal resorts for the population of the mod- 
 ern city. Let us, then, briefly consider its former environment, as 
 well as its present aspect. 
 
 40 Along this southern approach, in CorteY day, were the " Chinam- 
 pas," or floating gardens. Prescott calls them " wandering islands of 
 verdure, teeming with flowers and vegetation, and moving like rafts 
 over the waters ; rising and falling with the gentle undulations of the 
 billows." They were composed of frames of reeds and rushes, bound 
 tightly together and covered with the rich, alluvial mud from the 
 bottom of the lake, thus forming floating islands, on which the Aztecs 
 raised their vegetables. But the Chinampas no longer float. They 
 are now merely extensive areas of vegetable gardens, intersected by a 
 network of irrigating ditches radiating from the Viga canal. Along 
 these ditches, into the Viga, and thence to the City of Mexico, the 
 Indians pole their flatbottomed scows, laden with garden truck for the 
 city markets. These same flat boats on fiestas, or holidays, are tilled 
 with pleasure seekers bound from the city to Ixtacalco, or to Santa 
 Anita, the Coney Island of Mexico. On the Friday before Holy 
 Week the Viga canal presents an unusually animated appearance. 
 
 41 It is the annual Paseo de las Flores, a traditional festival observed 
 from time immemorial. It is maintained by some that it is an Indian 
 custom, long antedating the conquest, to celebrate the coming of spring. 
 
13 
 
 On this day of days the Viga becomes a veritable bower of floral beau- 
 ty. Its surface, as may be seen in our picture, is strewn with flowers, 
 and the various barges rival one another in the profusion of their 
 decorations. Unfortunately for the American who has a nose, the Viga 
 canal is no longer the limpid stream it was in Cortes' time. While 
 it is not, as some people maintain, the sewage conduit of the city, 
 yet, as the Mexicans say, "la fetidez es muy mala." But, while the 
 odors are almost intolerable, especially when stirred up by the contin- 
 ual agitation incident to a fiesta, they do not in the least interfere with 
 the picturesqueness. 
 
 As we get further away from the city, and the crowds, and the 
 turmoil, out where the water, while by no means clear, has less the 
 consistency of a solid and approaches more closely its normal liquid 
 state, out where the banks are lined with trees, whose intersecting 
 branches arch the stream — then the Viga canal really becomes a thing 
 of beauty. From nearly every passing barge comes the soft music of 
 the guitar, and through the interstices in the canopy of green rushes we 
 catch glimpses of fair senoritas, their dark hair entwined with wreaths 
 of ruddy poppies. Yes, the Viga is sui generis, and every visitor to 
 Mexico should see it — once. / 
 
 On Tuesday, November 8, 1519, Cortes and his army, accompa- 
 nied by their Tlaxcalan allies, entered the city of Tenochtitlan. At 
 last the conquistador realized the consummation of all for which he 
 had schemed, prayed and fought, ever since he first set foot on the 
 soil of Mexico at Vera Cruz. In seven short months he had traversed 
 a hostile country, administered defeat after defeat to the fierce and 
 warlike Tlaxcalans, and finally, having secured their friendship, made 
 with them a peaceful entry into the Aztec capital. And in this great 
 square before us the army of Cortes halted and looked upon their 
 surroundings. Where now stands the great cathedral rose a lofty teo- 
 calli, second only to the pyramid of Cholula, and dedicated to the 
 patron war god of the Aztecs. 
 
 On the summit of this truncated pyramid was a temple devoted 
 to human sacrifice, and in the courtyard stood the sacrificial stone, a 
 view of which is here presented, on which the prisoner was stretched. 
 Five priests secured his head and his limbs, while the sixth, clad in a 
 scarlet mantle, emblematic of his bloody office, despatched the victim 
 with a sharp razor of itztli — a volcanic substance, hard as flint — and 
 cast his heart at the feet of the deity to whom the temple was devoted. 
 
 In the National Museum of the City of Mexico stands a huge and 
 hideous two-faced monster, carved in stone. Mr. Bandelier, known 
 and acknowledged as one of the foremost antiquarians of our day and 
 
14 
 
 generation, after exhaustive research, affirms that this is none other 
 than "the well-known war god of the Mexican tribe, Huitzilopochtli ; 
 and that, consequently, it was the famous principal idol of aboriginal 
 Mexico, or Tenochtitlan." At the shrine of this sanguinary deity from 
 20,000 to 50,000 human beings were annually offered up in bloody 
 sacrifice. Truly, as Prescott says, " The empire of the Aztecs did not 
 fall before its time." 
 
 46 As we turn to leave the National Museum, we see, directly oppo- 
 site the doorway, a curiously carved and ornamented block of stone. 
 This has been the subject of much controversy among antiquarians, 
 some declaring it to be simply an Aztec calendar stone, while others 
 maintain that it served as a base for the smaller sacrificial stone. The 
 carvings on the block, consisting of a central sun surrounded by a circle 
 of twenty figures representing the twenty days of the Mexican month, 
 certainly bear out the calendar idea, but it is the opinion of no less an 
 authority than Mr. Bandelier that it was designed for the sacrificial 
 stone to rest upon. As it was unearthed directly beneath the site of 
 the ancient Aztec temple, this seems the most plausible interpretation. 
 
 47 It is not our purpose to narrate here the incidents of Cortes' stay in 
 Tenochtitlan. The cruelties and barbarities practised by the Spaniards, 
 together with the indignities offered to the weak and spiritless Monte- 
 zuma, which ended with his untimely death, are fully recorded in 
 Prescott's " Conquest of Mexico." Suffice it to say that, on July 1, 
 1520, the Aztecs rose in their might, and, with terrible slaughter, drove 
 the detested Spaniards from the city. No wonder the hitherto un- 
 daunted spirit of the conqueror was broken by the terrors and disasters 
 of the "melancholy night." On the outskirts of the city, at Popotla, 
 stands this "tree of the Noche Triste." Here, as we are informed, the 
 Spanish general stood and watched the straggling remnants of his army 
 pass, while, unable to restrain his emotions, he covered his face with 
 his hands, and, in the anguish of his soul, wept bitterly. But even as 
 he wept his proud and indomitable spirit was already looking forward 
 to the hour of vengeance. 
 
 48 On the site of the famous eastern causeway, where the greatest 
 slaughter of the retreating Spaniards took place, has been erected the 
 church of San Hipolito. The reconquest of the city having been con- 
 summated on August 13, 1521, the day of San Hipolito, the church 
 was dedicated to that saint, and those who had lost their lives were 
 commemorated as martyrs. Close by is the spot where Alvarado 
 made his famous leap, a feat so apparently impossible as to excite the 
 admiration of friend and foe alike. To this day the place is called 
 "El Saltode Alvarado." 
 
*5 
 
 49 On the very spot formerly occupied by the Aztec temple now 
 stands the Cathedral of Mexico, the largest church on the American 
 continent. It faces the great central plaza of the city and occupies its 
 entire northern side. In the corner nearest us is the Sagrario Metro- 
 politano, with its elaborate Churrigueresque fagade, in reality a por- 
 tion of the cathedral, although differing widely from it in architect- 
 ural design. The fragmentary construction of the cathedral, covering, 
 as it did, a period of more than 200 years, naturally caused a lack of 
 harmony, and doubtless many changes from the original design. The 
 two towers are each capped with a bell-shaped dome, and the white 
 marble statues, friezes and capitals which adorn the facade are very 
 elegant and harmonize effectively with the soft gray color of the ma- 
 sonry. The door of the cathedral is always open. Let us enter and 
 view the interior. 
 
 50 Directly facing the main entrance is the Altar del Perdon. This 
 is elaborately carved and gilded with figures in polychrome. Directly 
 back of this altar extends the choir, which, following the custom in 
 most Spanish cathedrals, occupies the central portion of the nave. 
 This arrangement mars greatly an effect that would otherwise be im- 
 posing and majestic, as that portion of the nave not occupied by the 
 choir is filled by the high altar and the railed passage connecting them. 
 The choir stalls, together with the casings of the two great organs, are 
 elaborately carved, and the woodwork has never been degraded by 
 either paint or varnish. 
 
 51 The High Altar itself is out of harmony with its surroundings, and 
 is far inferior to the original structure which it replaced. On the right 
 is the pulpit, of Puebla onyx, and directly back of the high altar we 
 have a glimpse of the superb altar and chapel of Los Reyes. This 
 occupies the apse, and was the work of Balbas, designer of the high 
 altar of the great cathedral of Seville, who came over from Spain 
 expressly to do this work. Unfortunately this masterpiece, extending 
 from floor to ceiling, could not be photographed to advantage, the 
 high altar being directly in front and very near. Under the altar of 
 Los Reyes are buried the heads of Hidalgo, Allende, Aldama and Jimi- 
 nez, brought here after the independence for which they lost them 
 had been secured. 
 
 52 One of the most superb views in Mexico is obtained from the ca- 
 thedral tower. Directly beneath us lies the Plaza Mayor, and, facing 
 it on the east, the National Palace, Capitol of the Republic of Mexico. 
 This is one of the longest buildings in the world. In the central tow- 
 er, shown on the extreme right, hangs the Liberty Bell of Mexico. 
 In 1896 it was brought here from the church of Dolores, near San 
 
16 
 
 Miguel de Allende, where, nearly 100 years before, it was rung by 
 Hidalgo, the patriot priest, to call the people to arms, and to march, 
 under the banner of Guadaloupe, for the independence of Mexico. 
 In the distance, eighty miles away, glisten the snow-capped peaks of 
 Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, white as the clouds which are gathering 
 around their crests. 
 
 53 Of the many fine examples of sculpture in the City of Mexico, the 
 most notable is the imposing equestrian statue of Carlos IV. of Spain. 
 This was the masterpiece of the noted architect, Manuel Tolsa. Made 
 in a single piece, it is the largest bronze casting in the world. A few 
 years after its completion the popular feeling against the Spaniards 
 became so bitter that the statue was encased in a wooden globe, as a 
 protection against the patriotic Mexicans. Later, when the popular 
 feeling had somewhat subsided, it was placed in its present position. 
 As if in apology for placing the statue of the ignoble and detested 
 Spanish monarch in one of the most honored positions in the city, 
 the following significant inscription was cut upon the pedestal: " Con- 
 servado como Obra del Arte," Preserved as a work of Art. 
 
 54 Extending in a straight line from the statue of Carlos IV. to the 
 Castle of Chapultepec is the most beautiful driveway in Mexico, the 
 Paseo de la Reforma. Throughout its length the Paseo is bordered 
 on either side by a double row of trees. Between these rows extend 
 the sidewalks, while at intervals, beneath the shade of the overhang- 
 ing trees, are massive stone benches where one may sit and watch the 
 endless succession of stylish turnouts. On Sunday afternoons the 
 Paseo is the rendezvous of fashionable Mexico. 
 
 55 Here are caballeros in charro costume, resplendent in all the glory 
 of silver trappings. Then come scores of handsome carriages, whose 
 dark -eyed occupants smile and twirl their jeweled fingers as they rec- 
 ognize some acquaintance in the passing throng. Up one side of the 
 splendid thoroughfare and down the other passes an endless procession, 
 the two lines divided by a double row of mounted troopers, stationed 
 every hundred yards or so, as mute and immovable as the bronze fig- 
 ure at the Paseo's entrance. The Mexicans owe this magnificent drive- 
 way to Carlotta, wife of the unfortunate Maximilian, who laid it out 
 in imitation of the Champs- Elys£es. Like that famous boulevard the 
 Paseo has a number of circular parks, called glorietas, in which are 
 erected statues. 
 
 56 The most notable of these is an impressive figure of the defiant 
 Guatemotzin, nephew of Montezuma, and his successor on the throne 
 of the Aztecs. Had Montezuma possessed one tenth the spirit of this 
 dauntless chieftain the history of Mexico would have been far different. 
 
17 
 
 His heroic defence of his capital, and refusal to surrender on the most 
 honorable terms, was prolonged until, stone by stone, his capital had 
 been obliterated, and, one by one, his followers killed. Even then, 
 when finally captured and brought before Cortes, the proud Aztec ad- 
 dressed his conqueror thus : " Malintzi, 1 have done what 1 could in de- 
 fence of this city and of my nation ; take this dagger now and kill me ! " 
 
 57 On the pedestal of the statue is a bas-relief representing the torture 
 of Guatemotzin by the Spaniards, when, in order to compel him to 
 reveal the hiding place of his treasure, they roasted his feet over a 
 burning brazier. This contemptible action, the one foul blot on the 
 memory of Cortes, failed to evoke so much as a groan from the daunt- 
 less captive, still less the desired information. Time and posterity, 
 those two inexorable judges, have agreed upon a righteous verdict. 
 Today Montezuma and Guatemotzin are household words in Mexico, 
 and familiar to every child. Their portraits are seen on every hand, 
 and their memory is immortal, but in all Mexico there is no monument 
 to the conqueror, and no city, village, or even street, bears the detested 
 name of Cortes. 
 
 58 The Paseo terminates at Chapultepec, the White House, and also 
 the West Point, of Mexico. Crowning the summit of the hill is the 
 residence of President Diaz, and directly back of it is the Military 
 Academy, where the officers of the Mexican army are trained and edu- 
 cated. During the Mexican war the hill of Chapultepec was stormed 
 and captured by the American forces under General Pillow. It was 
 gallantly defended by its garrison of boy cadets, and at the foot of the 
 hill is a monument to the memory of the bright and promising young 
 heroes, who were worthy of a better fate. 
 
 59 The greatest glory of Chapultepec is its magnificent grove of an- 
 cient cypress trees. Under the shade of these very trees it is said that 
 Montezuma and his retinue were wont to spend much of their time, 
 discussing affairs of state. To this day, in fact, the largest and finest 
 of the grove is known as Montezuma's Tree. Not far away is Malin- 
 che's Spring, and there is a legend to the effect that, in her subterranean 
 caverns, this water sprite still guards the Aztec treasure, given to her for 
 safe keeping by Guatemotzin, when he foresaw the downfall of his peo- 
 ple. In the days of ancient Tenochtitlan, a causeway led thither from 
 Chapultepec, and over this causeway an aqueduct conveyed the water 
 from Malinche's Spring. After the city was rebuilt by the Spaniards a 
 new aqueduct, of solid masonry, replaced the primitive Aztec structure. 
 
 60 Although this aqueduct has long been obsolete, the water supply 
 of modern Mexico being carried beneath the ground in iron pipes, its 
 two principal fountains have been preserved as historic monuments 
 
18 
 
 One of these is this picturesque and quaint old fountain at the termi- 
 nus of the former aqueduct in the City of Mexico. It is known as El 
 Salto del Agua, "The Leap of the Water." Nearly every morning- 
 one may see here an array of vegetables brought from the gardens on 
 the Viga, and kept fresh and bright all day by frequent sprinkling 
 from the adjacent fountain. Although the more prosaic iron pipes 
 now conduct the water to the patios of the more pretentious Mexican 
 houses, the aguador still finds employment in carrying water from the 
 public fountains,' as Mexico's water supply is still inadequate. 
 
 61 In addition to the aguador, another early morning visitor is the 
 lechero, or milkman. Of all Mexican itinerants he is the most pict- 
 uresque and complacent. He sits upon the quarter-deck of his burro, 
 resplendent in striped zerape and peaked sombrero, with his cans of 
 "leche" covering every available square inch of the patient animal. 
 To those who have had experience in riding Mexican burros, however, 
 the wonder will be that his milk is not all butter by the time it is de- 
 livered. At his side trots his faithful partner, who delivers the requisite 
 amount of milk to the portero of each residence. Although the aver- 
 age Mexican peons are indeed poor, they are happy and contented, 
 and every one who knows Mexico knows also that they get quite as 
 much enjoyment out of life as do the American " turistas," who are 
 so prone to pity them. 
 
 62 The average American indeed, who goes flitting through the coun- 
 try in a personally conducted excursion party, gets a very erroneous 
 idea of Mexico and the Mexicans. He sees nothing of the better class 
 of people, especially the ladies, for they rarely appear on the streets 
 or in public conveyances. The old saying, "A man's house is his 
 castle," was never so true as in Mexico. Privacy is the watchword, 
 and the houses, with their barred and grated windows, look like pris- 
 ons from without. But if you are so fortunate as to obtain an intro- 
 duction to these people, and meet them in their homes, you will be 
 royally entertained, and will learn what Mexican courtesy and polite- 
 ness really mean. The feature of the Mexican house is the patio, or 
 inner court. Here, in the very heart of a great city, one has the de- 
 lights of a private park in the open air, variegated with fountains, 
 plants and flowers, where afternoon tea may be served with an accom- 
 paniment of singing birds. And when you take your leave your host 
 will say : " Esta es su casa de Vd., y somos sus criados," " This is your 
 house, and we are your servants." 
 
 63 Of the patio on a large scale we have a fine example in this view, 
 showing the cloisters of what was formerly the Colegio de San Ildefon- 
 so, but which is now the Escuela Preparatoria Nacional. Whatever 
 
19 
 
 profession the Mexican youth desires to enter, with the exception of 
 the army, navy, or priesthood, he must first take a four years' course 
 at the National Preparatory School. This school accommodates about 
 1000 pupils, and the tuition is free, to foreigners as well as Mexicans. 
 The collection of trees and shrubbery in the three patios of this great 
 institution is doubtless the finest in the city. 
 
 64 But the most valuable and artistic possessions of the Preparatory 
 School are the magnificently carved choir stalls in the Ceremonial Hall. 
 They are from the choir of the old convent of San Agustin, and orig- 
 inally cost a quarter of a million dollars. Mr. Sylvester Baxter, in his 
 superb work on Mexican architecture, says of them, " These exquisitely 
 beautiful choir stalls are one of the great artistic sights of Mexico, and 
 are comparable in charm with the best of similar work in Europe. 
 That they were wrought by native Mexican hands is apparent from 
 certain touches of local color in various reliefs, such as the depiction 
 of monkeys and other tropical animals in scenes like the Garden of 
 Eden, including the famous Mexican bird, the Guajamaya." 
 
 65 Nearly all the carvings illustrate some event in Bible history, and 
 these two panels represent Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. In 
 the panel on the left they are standing beneath the tree of the " knowl- 
 edge of good and evil," and Eve is offering to Adam the forbidden 
 fruit, while the serpent, coiled about a limb of the tree above, looks 
 down in silent approbation. In the right hand panel the angel with 
 the flaming sword is expelling the unhappy pair from Paradise. Other 
 panels depict the Deluge, the story of Jonah and the whale, and other 
 important incidents in Scripture narrative, ending with the Apocalypse. 
 
 66 Nuestra Senora de la Encarnacion was the most magnificent of all 
 the convents in Mexico. Its beautiful great cloister still remains intact, 
 and reveals the elegance to which convent life was carried in Mexico 
 until the laws of the reform put an end alike to convents and monas- 
 teries. After the suppression of the religious orders, and the secular- 
 ization of their property, this portion of the immense building became 
 the National School of Law. It is, perhaps, the finest specimen of the 
 patio extant in Mexico. No one would imagine, in looking upon the 
 exterior of this building, that within its gloomy and forbidding walls 
 such a beautiful and delightful spot could possibly exist. In marked 
 contrast to this paradise is the patio of our hotel. 
 
 67 This was formerly a portion of the headquarters of the Franciscan 
 order, the oldest and greatest monastery in Mexico, which was built 
 on the site of Montezuma's garden and menagerie. From our noctur- 
 nal experiences while domiciled here, however, we decide to name it 
 " El Patio de los Gatos," The Courtyard of the Tom-cats. The wall 
 
20 
 
 before us conceals what was once the entrance and facade of the main 
 church of San Francisco. On the right is the base of the demolished 
 tower, still bearing the marks of the cannonade at the time of the 
 intervention. On the left appears one of the three typical domes, 
 which still remain intact. 
 
 68 For a view of these, however, we must ascend to the roof of the 
 ancient structure. Mexico is preeminently a land of domes. As Mr. 
 Baxter says: "Probably no other country in the world, outside the 
 Orient, has so many domes — domes in the truest sense of the word, 
 arched with solid masonry." This beautiful and picturesque group 
 represents a typical form of the Mexican dome, such as may be seen 
 literally by the hundred throughout the country. Upon the largest 
 dome the original glazed tiles still remain intact, reflecting Mexico's 
 perpetual sunshine in countless prismatic tints. As our eyes rest upon 
 these domes, which surmount the structure for so many years the 
 tomb of Cort£s, may we not, in imagination, recall the image of the 
 conqueror as he appeared in life. 
 
 69 In forming our opinion of this great commander we must consider 
 the time in which he lived. It has been said that he was cruel, un- 
 scrupulous and insincere ; that he made war upon the pagan tribes of 
 the new world with sword in one hand and cross in the other, and in 
 the assurance of his bigotry raised the hand that was red with the 
 blood of the natives to invoke the blessing of Heaven on his cause. 
 But in our study of contemporaneous history, and especially Spanish 
 history, we find him far in advance of his age and his people. 
 
 70 After Cortes had completely demolished the capital of the Aztecs, 
 he set about the reconstruction, on its site, of what is now the City of 
 Mexico. While engaged in the supervision of this work he established 
 his seat of government at Coyoac&n, a suburb of Mexico, where his 
 residence, now the Municipal Palace, is still standing. Over the en- 
 trance to this old dwelling, as may be seen in our illustration, is a 
 stone shield on which is engraved the conqueror's coat of arms. This 
 building exemplifies the massiveness and solidity which characterized 
 the architecture of the Spanish at the very outset of their occupation 
 of the country. 
 
 71 Far more imposing and elaborate, however, is the residence built 
 by Cortes at Cuernavaca. Our picture shows the western entrance, 
 which faces a charming little plaza, but the building has been so mod- 
 ernized that only the beautiful arcades are now of interest. Although 
 Cort£s had completed the conquest he was not to enjoy the fruits of 
 his labors. Like Columbus before him, having achieved an exploit 
 unparalleled in history, he found himself shorn of his legitimate reward. 
 
21 
 
 Like Columbus he had the misfortune to deserve too much. So the 
 conqueror of Mexico saw its control pass into other hands, and even 
 his own military jurisdiction was curtailed and interfered with. This 
 was more than the proud and independent spirit of Cortes could en- 
 dure. After submitting, for a time, to these indignities, he left the 
 City of Mexico, never to return, and retired to private life in this state- 
 ly castle at Cuernavaca. 
 
 72 If we pass beneath these central arches, ascend the stairway, and 
 emerge upon the eastern arcade, this is what we see. Mr. Frederick 
 E. Church, one of the greatest scenic painters America has yet pro- 
 duced, justly termed it one of the world's noblest landscapes. At our 
 feet lies a foreground of tropical luxuriance, diversified with such ro- 
 mantic and picturesque environment as can be found only in Mexico. 
 Beyond extends a far-reaching vista of plain, and rugged, rocky head- 
 land, while in the distance, culminating all, are the snow-capped sum- 
 mits of Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl. From exactly the opposite 
 direction we looked upon the further side of these same mountains 
 from Cholula's pyramid. They overlooked the scenes associated with 
 the earliest achievements of the conqueror. These associations must 
 have been strongly recalled to his mind as, toward the close of life, 
 his work accomplished, he daily walked this balcony. 
 
 73 The figure of the conquistador, pacing back and forth upon these 
 arcades, looking off toward the great volcano, and in memory behold- 
 ing the scenes which it recalled of his stormy past, is one which appeals 
 powerfully to our imagination. A poet might do worse than attempt 
 to portray in verse the analogy between the stern old warrior and this 
 grim sentinel of the land he conquered. For it, too, was near extinc- 
 tion. The fierce fires of its wonted activity were smouldering low and 
 well-nigh extinguished. Its forehead was whitened with the snows 
 of many storms that had left deep scars behind them. 
 
 74 And as, toward the close of a summer's day, the clouds gather 
 around its storm-swept peak, so the swiftly forming clouds of adver- 
 sity even then were enshrouding the conqueror's life. And as the 
 increasing gloom presently veils the mountain completely from our 
 sight, the curtain falls upon the conqueror's final exit. After a weary 
 and fruitless pilgrimage to Spain, in the vain attempt to secure justice 
 at the hands of his sovereign, the broken-hearted and disappointed 
 old man passed away in the city of Seville. Like Columbus, his ser- 
 vices, to the last, were unappreciated and unrequited. Perhaps in a 
 better world they may both receive the recompense that was denied 
 to them in this. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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