vAsfcJI * >** ¦ . V\ was laid in her coffin, thousands of dear friends crowding to view her beautiful cos tume de mart, and at length she was placed in her tomb, the key of which was entrusted to the sacristan. From the tomb to the opera is a very abrupt transition ; neverthe less, both have a share in this stoiy. A company of French dancers appeared in Mexico, a twentieth-rate ballet, and the chief danseuse was a Uttle French damsel, remarkable for the shortness of her robes, her coquetry, and her astonishing pirouettes. On the night of a favourite ballet, MademoiseUe Pauline made her entrie in a succes sion of pirouettes, and poising on her toe, looked round for approba tion, when a sudden thrill of horror, accompanied by a murmur of indignation, pervaded the assembly. MademoiseUe Pauline was equipped in the very dress in which the defunct countess had been buried! Lace, point flounces, gold, ribbons; impossible to mistake it ! Hardly had the curtain dropped when the little danseuse found herself surrounded by competent authorities, questioning her as to where and how she had obtained her dress. She repUed that she had bought it at an extravagant price from a French modiste in the city. She had rifled no tomb, but honestly paid down golden ounces in exchange for her lawful property. To the modiste's went the officers of justice. She also pleaded innocent. She had bought it of a, man who had brought it to her for sale, and had paid him much more than apoids d'or, as indeed it was worth. By dint of further inves tigation, the man was identified, and proved to be the sacristan of San . Short-sighted sacristan ! He was arrested - and thrown into prison, and one benefit resulted from his cupidity, since, in order to avoid throwing temptation in the way of future sacristans, it be- LIFE IN MEXICO. 47 came the custom, after the body had lain in state for some time in magnificent robes, to substitute a plain dress previous to placing the coffin in the vault. A poor vanity after all ! I was told by a lady here, that on the death of her grandchild he was not only enveloped in rich lace, but the diamonds of three con- ¦ desas and four marquesas were coUected together and put on him ; necklaces, bracelets, rings, brooches, and tiaras, to the value of seve ral hundred thousand dollars. The street was hung with draperies, and a band of music played, whilst he was visited by all the titled relatives of the family in his dead splendour, poor little baby ! Yet his mother mourned for him as for aU her blighted hopes, and the last scion of a noble house. Grief shows itself in different ways; yet one might think that, when it seeks consolation in display, it must be less profound than when it shuns it. LETTER X- San Fernando, 25th February. We have been engaged for some time past in the disagreeable occu pations, first of finding, then of furnishing, and lastly of entering into a new house. We were very anxious to hire that of the Mar- quesa de Juluapa, which is pretty, well situated, and has a garden ; but the agent, after making us wait for his decision more than a fort night, informed us that he had determined to seU it. House-rent is extremely high ; nothing tolerable to be had under two thousand five hundred doUars per annum, unfurnished. There is also an ex traordinary custom of paying a sum caUed traspaso, sometimes to the amount of fourteen thousand dollars, taking your chance of having the money repaid you by the next person who takes the house. We next endeavoured to procure a house not far from our present resi dence—a palace, in fact — -which I mentioned to you before as having been occupied at one time by Santa Anna, and at another by the EngUsh legation; but the present proprietor cannot be prevailed upon to let it. It has a beautifulgarden and olive-ground, but is not a very secure abode, except with a guard of soldiers. We at length came to the determination of taking up our quarters here. It is a handsome new house, built by General G , and has the fault of being only too large. Built in a square, like aU Mexican houses, the ground-floor, which has a stone-paved court with a fountain in the middle, contains about twenty rooms, besides out-houses, coach house, stables, pigeon-house, garden-house, &c. The second story, where the principal apartments are, the first floor being chiefly occu pied by servants, has the same number of rooms, with coal-room, wood-room, bath-room, and water everywhere, in the court below, in the garden, and on the azotea, which is very spacious, and where, were the house oiir own, we might build a mirador, and otherwise ornament it ; but to build for another is too heroic. The great de fect in all these houses is their want of finish ; the great doors, that will not shut properly, and the great windows down to the ground, which in the rainy season will certainly admit water, making these residences appear something Uke a cross-breed between a palace and 48 LIFE IN MEXICO. a barn : the splendour of the one, the discomfort of the other. Be hind this house is a very small garden, bounded on one side by the great wall which encloses the orchard of the old monastery of San Fernando, within whose vast precincts only seven or eight monks now linger. It is an immense building, old, and gray, and time- worn, with church adjoining and spacious lands appertaining to it. At all times it is picturesque, but by moonlight or sunset it forms a most olden-time vision. At that hour, standing alone in the high-walled garden when the convent bells are tolling, and the convent itself, with its iron-barred Gothic windows, and its gray-green ohve-trees, that look so unreal and lifeless, is tinged by the last rays of the sun, the whole seems Uke a vision, or a half-remembered sketch, or a memory of romance. Then the sun sets behind the snow-crowned mountains with a bright fiery red, covering their majestic sides with a rosy glow, while great black clouds come saihng along like the wings of night ; and then is the hour for remembering that this is Mexico, and in spite of aU the evils that have faUen over it, the memory of the romantic Past hovers there still. But the dark clouds sail on, and envelope the crimson tints yet lingering and blushing on the lofty mountains, and like monstrous night-birds brood there in silent watch; and graduaUy the whole landscape-=-mountains and sky, convent and olive-trees — look gray and sad, and seem to melt away in the dim twilight. . % Then the bright moon rises, and flings her silver veil over the mountains, and hghts up the plains, glittering and quivering upon the old gray stones, and a sound of military music is heard in the distance, far and faint. And aU the bells are tolUng ; from old San Fernando, that repeats himself Uke a sexagenarian ; from the towers of the cathedral; from many a distant church and convent; and above the rumbling of carriages and the hum of the city are heard the notes of a hymn, now rising, now faUing upon the ear, as the re- Ugious procession passes along to some neighbouring temple. But it grows late ; a carriage enters the court-yard : a visit. There is no romance here. Men and women are the same everywhere, whether enveloped in the graceful mantilla or wearing Herbault's last — whe ther wrapt in Spanish cloak, or Mexican serap'e, or Scottish plaid. The manners of the ladies here are extremely kind, but Spanish etiquette and compUments are beyond measure tiresome. After having embraced each lady who enters, according to the fashion, which after aU seems cordial, to say the least of it, and seated the lady of most consequence on the right side of the sofa, a point of great importance,. the foUowing dialogue is de rigeur: — "How are you? Are you weU?" "At your service; and you?" "Without novelty (sin novedad), at your service." "I am rejoiced; and how are you, sefiora?" "At your disposal; and you?" "A thousand thanks; and the sefior?" "At your service, without novelty," &c. &c. Besides, before sitting down, there is " Pray be seated." " Pass first, sefiorita." "No, madam, pray pass first." " Vaya, well; to obUge you, without further ceremony; I dislike compUments and etiquette." And it is a fact that there is no real etiquette, but the most perfect laissez alkr in the world. All these are mere words tokens of good-will. If it is in the morning, there is the additional question of "How have you passed the night?" And the answer, LIFE IN MEXICO. 49 " In your service." Even in Mexico the weather affords a legitimate opening for a conversation battery, but this chiefly when it rains or looks duU, which, occasioning surprise, gives rise to observation. Besides, a sUght change in the degree of heat or cold, which we would not observe, they comment upon. The visit over, the ladies re-embrace, the lady of the house fol lowing her guest to the top of the staircase, and again compliments are given and received. " Madam, you know that my house is at your disposal." " A thousand thanks, madam. Mine is at yours, and though useless, know me for your servant, and command me in everything that you may desire." "Adieu! I hope, you may pass a good night," &c. &c. At the bottom of the first landing-place the visitors again turn round to catch the eye of the lady of the house, and the adieux are repeated. All this, which struck me at first, already appears quite natural, and would scarce be worth mentioning, but as affording a contrast to our sUght and indifferent manner of receiving and taking leave of our guests. All the ladies address each other,- and are addressed by gentlemen, by their Christian names ; and those who have paid me more than one or two visits use the same famiUar mode of address to me. Amongst women I rather like this, but it somewhat startles my ideas of the fitness of things to hear a young man address a married woman as Maria, Antonia, Anita, &c. However, things must be taken as they are meant ; and as no fami- Uarity is intended, none should be supposed. . . . But these visitors are gone, and into the open court the consola tory moon is shining. All clouds have passed away, and the blue sky is so blue as to dazzle the eyes even in the moonlight. Each star shines out bright, golden, and distinct, and it seems a sin to sleep and to lose so lovely a night. . . But for a true night view mount upon the azotea, and see aU Mexico sleeping at your feet ; the whole valley and the city itself floating in moonlight ; the blue vault above gemmed with stars, and the mountains all bathed in silver, the white volcanoes seeming to join earth and sky. Here even Sal- vator's genius would fail. We must evoke the ghost of Byron. The pencil can do nothing. Poetry alone might give » faint idea of a scene so wondrously beautiful. 26th. — We went yesterday with Mr. M , his wife and daughter, and a padre, to visit the archbishop's palace at Tacubaya, a pretty village about four miles from Mexico, and a favourite ride of ours in the morning. The country around Mexico, if not always beautiful, has the merit of being original ; and on the road to Tacubaya, which goes by Chapultepec, you pass large tracts of country almost entirely uncultivated, though so near the city, or covered by the mighty maguey plant, the American agave, which will flourish on the most arid soil, and, Uke a fountain in a desert place, furnishes the poorest Indian with the beverage most grateful to his palate. It seems to be to them what the reindeer is to the Esquimaux, fitted by nature to supply all his wants. The maguey, and its produce, pulque, were known to the Indians in the most ancient times ; and the primitive Aztecs may have become as intoxicated on their favourite octli, as they caUed it, as the modern Mexicans do on their beloved pulque. It is not often that we see the superb flower with its colossal stem, for the plant that is in blossom is a useless beauty. The moment the experienced Indian becomes aware that his maguey is about to D 50 LIFE IN MEXICO. flower, he cuts out the heart, covers it over with the side leaves of the plant, and aU the juice which should have gone to the great- stem of the flower, runs into the empty basin thus formed, into which the Indian, thrice a-day, and during several months in succession, inserts his acojote or gourd, a kind of syphon, and applying his mouth to the other end, draws off the Uquor by suction ; a curious-looking process. First it is caUed honey- water, and is sweet and scentless; but easily ferments when transferred to the skins or earthen vases where it is kept. To assist in its fermentation, however, a Uttle old pulqm-^madre pulque, as it is called — which has fermented for many days, is added to it, and in twenty-four hours after it leaves the plant, you may imbibe it in aU its perfection. It is said to be the most wholesome drink in the world, and. remarkably agreeable when one has overcome the first shock occasioned by its rancid odour. At aU events, the maguey is a source of unfailing profit, the consump tion of pulque being enormous, so that many of the richest famiUes in the capital owe their fortunes entirely to the produce of their magueys. When the owners do not make the pulque themselves, they frequently sell their plants to the Indians; and a maguey, which costs a real when first planted, wiU, when ready to be cut, seU for twelve or eighteen dollars: a tolerable profit, considering that it grows in almost any soil, requires Uttle manure, and, unlike the vine, no very special or periodical care. They are planted in rows, like hedges, and though the individual plant is handsome, the general effect is monotonous. Of the fibres is made an exceUent strong thread caUed pita, of which pita they make a strong brownish paper, and might make cloth if they pleased. There is, however, Uttle improve ment made by the Mexicans upon the ingenuity of their Indian an cestors, in respect to the maguey. Upon paper made of its fibres the ancient Mexicans painted their hieroglyphicaJ. figures. The strong and pointed thorns, which terminate the gigantic leaves, they used as nails and pins; and amongst the abuses, not the uses of these, the ancient sanguinary priests were in the habit of piercing their breasts and tearing their arms with them, in acts of expiation. Besides, there is a very strong brandy distilled from pulque, which has the ad vantage of producing intoxication in an infinitely shorter periods Tacubaya is a scattered viUage, containing some pretty country- houses, and some old gardens with stone fountains. The word "country-house" must not, however, be understood in. the English acceptation of the word. The house, which is in fact merely used as an occasional retreat during the summer months, is generally a large empty building, with innumerable lofty rooms, communicating with each other, and containing the scantiest possible supply of furniture. One room will have in it a deal table and a few chairs ; you then pass through five or six quite empty ; then you will arrive at two or three with green painted bedsteads and a bench; the waUs bare, or ornamented with a few old pictures of saints and Virgins, and bare floors ornamented with nothing. To this add a kitchen and out houses, a garden running to waste and overrunning with flowers, with stiff stone walks and a fountain in the middle, an orchard and an olive-ground : such are most of the haciendas that I have as yet seen. The Arzobispado is a large, handsome, but deserted building, commanding, the same fine view as from the house of the countess, LIFE IN MEXICO. 51 and with a garden and fine olive-ground, the trees. of which were brought from Europe. The garden was fined with large double pink roses, and bunches of the miilefleur-rose, which are disposed in arches, a favourite custom here ; also with a profusion of sweet-peas and jasmine, and a few orange-trees. The gardener gave us some beautiful bouquets, and we fingered here till sunset, admiring the view. There is no point from which Mexico is seen to such advan tage. It is even a finer prospect than that from Chapultepec, since it embraces the castle itself, one of the most striking features' in the landscape. But just as the sun sank behind the mountains, a sudden change took place in the weather. The wind rose, great masses of dark clouds came driving over the sky, and the rain fell in torrents, forcing us to make a hasty retreat to our carriages; and having omitted to take any ¦precautions, and this road not being particularly safe at night, we were probably indebted for our safe return " more to good luck than good guidance ;" or, perhaps, we owed it in part to the padre; for the robbers aire shy of attacking either soldiers or priests, the first from fear, and the second from awe. Talking of robbers and robberies, rather a fertile theme of con versation, Sefior . told me the other day, that in the time of a former president it came to pass, that a certain gentleman went to- take his leave at the palace, previous to setting off for Vera Cruz. He was received by the president, who was alone with his aide-de camp, General , and mentioned to him in confidence that he was about to take a considerable sum of money with him, but that it was so well concealed in the lining of a trunk, which he described, that even if attacked by robbers, it was impossible they should dis cover it, and that therefore he did not think it necessary to take an escort with him. The next day this confidential gentleman left Mexico in the diligence. Not far from the gates the coach was attacked, and, strange to say, the robbers singled out the us to 76 LIFE IN MEXICO. everything, but tasted nothing themselves. The younger nuns and the novices were grouped upon a mat a la Turque, and a more pic turesque scene altogether one could scarcely see. The young novices, with their white robes, white veils, and black eyes ; the severe and dignified madres, with their long dresses and momnful-looldng black veils and rosaries ; the veiled figures occa sionally flitting along the .corridor; ourselves in contrast, with our worldly dresses and coloured ribbons ; and the great haU lighted by one immense lamp that hung from the ceiling : I felt transported three centuries back, and hah afraid that the whole would flit away, and prove a mere vision, a waking dream. 28th. — Last evening we were sitting at home very quietly about ten o'clock, C n, Monsieur de ¦, of the legation, and I, when A rushed into the room aU disheveUed. " Come quickly, sir! Robbers are breaking open the kitchen-door!" A succession of feminine shrieks in the distance added effect to her words. - C — - — n jumped up, ran for his pistols, gave one to Monsieur de , caUed up the soldiers, but no robbers appeared. The kitchen-door was indeed open, and the trembling galopina attested, that being in the kitchen alone, dimly lighted by one smaU lamp, three men, aU armed, had entered, and had rushed out again on hearing her give the alarm. We somewhat doubted her assertions, but the next morning found that the men had in fact escaped by the azotea, a great assistance to aU Mexican depredators. At the end of this row of houses the people ran out and fired upon them, but without effect. The house of the old Countess of S F had been broken into, her porter wounded, report says killed, and her plate earned off. In the mean time our soldiers watch in the kitchen, a pair of loaded pistols adorn the table, a double-barreUed gun stands in the corner, and a buU-dog growls in the gaUery. This little passing visit to us was probably caused by the arrival of some large boxes from London, especiaUy of a veiy fine harp and piano, both Erards, which I had the pleasure of seeing unpacked this morning, and which, in spite of jolting and bad roads, have arrived in perfect condition. . . . Thus far I had written, it being now the evening, and I sitting alone, when a succession of shrieks arose, even more awful than those which alarmed us last night. At the same time the old galo pina, her daughter, and a French girl who Uves here, rushed shout ing along the gallery ; not a word they said comprehensible, but something concerning " a robber in black, with men at his back, who had burst open the door." At the noise the whole household had assembled. One ran this way, one ran that. A Uttle French teinturier, who it appeared had been paying the maids a polite visit, .seized the loaded gun ; the footman took a pistol, and hid himself behind the porter ; A , like a second Joan of Arc, appeared with .a rusty sabre ; the soldiers rushed up with their bayonets ; the coach man stood aloof with nothing; the porter led up the rear, holding a large dog by the collar; but no robber appears; and the girls are aU sobbing and crying because we doubt their having seen one. Galopina the younger, shedding tears in torrents, swears to the man. Galopina the elder, enveloped in her rebozo, swears to any number of men ; and the recamerera has cried herself into a fit between fear and indignation. Such is the agreeable state of things about nine o'clock this even- LIFE IN MEXICO. It ing; for one real attempt to enter the house invariably gives rise to a thousand imaginary attacks and fanciful alarms. We went lately to pay a visit to the celebrated Virgen de los Re- medios, the Gachupina, the Spanish patroness, and rival of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This Virgin was brought over by Cortes, and when he displaced the Indian idols in the great temple of Mexico, caused them to be broken in pieces, and the sanctuary to be purified, he solemnly placed there a crucifix and this image of the Virgin ; then kneeling before it, gave solemn thanks to Heaven, which had per mitted him thus to adore the Most High in a place so long profaned by the most cruel idolatries. Being desirous of seeing this celebrated image, we set off one fine afternoon in a carriage of 's, drawn by six unbroken horses, accompanied by him and his lady, and performed four leagues of bad road in an incredibly short space of time. The horses them- . selves were in an evident state of astonishment ; for after kicking and plunging, and, as they imagined, running away, they found themselves driven much faster than they had the slightest intention of going; so after a Uttle while they acknowledged, in 's capital coachman, un main de maitre. The mountain is barren and lonely, but the view from its summit is beautiful, commanding the whole plain. The church is old and not very remarkable, yet a picturesque object, as it stands in its-gray solitariness, with one or two trees beside it, of which one without leaves was entirely covered with the most briUiant scarlet flowers. Senior having been the Virgin's coachman, the Sefiora being the daughter of her camarista, and C n the minister from the land of her predUection, we were not astonished at the distin guished reception which we met with from the reverend padre, the guardian of the mountain. The church within is handsome, and above the altar is a copy of the original Virgin. After we had re mained there a Uttle while, we were admitted into the sanctum, where (the identical Virgin of Cortes, with a large silver maguey, occupies her splendid shrine. The priest retired and put on his robes, and then returning, and aU kneeling before the altar, he recited the Credo. ' This over, he mounted the steps, and opening the shrine where the Virgin was encased, knelt down and removed her in his arms. He then presented her to each of us in succession, every one kissing the hem of her satin robe. She was afterwards replaced with the same ceremony. The image is a wooden doll about a foot high, holding in its arms an infant Jesus, both faces evidently carved with a rude penknife ; two holes for the eyes and another for the mouth. This doU was dressed in blue satin and pearls, with a crown upon her head and a quantity of hair fastened on to the crown. No Indian idol could be much uglier. As she has been a good deal scratched and destroyed in the lapse of ages, C n observed that he was astonished they had not tried to restore her a Uttle. To this the padre replied, that the attempt had been made by several artists, each one of whom had sickened and died. He also mentioned as one of her miracles, that living on a solitary mountain, she had never been robbed ; but I fear the padre is somewhat oblivious, as this sacrilege, has happened more than once. On one occasion, a crowd of leperos being collected, and the image carried round to be kissed, one of them, affecting intense 78 LIFE IN MEXICO. devotion, bit off the large pearl that adorned her dress in front, and before the theft was discovered he had mingled, with the crowd and escaped. When reminded of the circumstance, the padre said it was true, but that the thief was a Frenchman. After taking leave of the Virgin, we visited the padre in his own old house, attached to the church, where his only attendant, as usual among padres, is an old woman. LETTER XVI. Santiago, 6th May. Befobe the setting in of the rainy season, we accepted of the invita tion of. our friends, the -s, to visit their different haciendas, as in a short time the roads wiU become nearly impassable. The country in May is perhaps at its highest beauty, or even a Uttle earlier, as already the great blow of roses is nearly oveT ; au reste, there are roses all the year round, though more in December than in July. And this, by the way, is rather a source of disappointment to the un wary traveller. He arrives in December, and finds the gardens fuU of flowers. "If this be the case in December," says he to himself, " what wiU it be in May?" May comes; the roses are over, and the chief flowers in the gardens- are dahUas and marigolds, our autumnal flowers ; September, and these autumnal flowers still bloom, and with them you, have mignonette and roses, and then pinks and jasmine, and other flowers. In fact,, there seems to be no particular season for anything. The weather at present is neither warm nor cold, but colder here than in Mexico, and when it does not rain it is lovely. Already there has been much rain, and the torrents are so sweUed that there was some doubt as to whether our carriages could pass- them. Yesterday, at five in the morning, we left Mexico, in a coach once the property of Charles X. "Sic transit," &c. ; and a most luxurious traveUing-carriage is that of his ex-majesty, entirely covered with gilding, save where the UUes of France surmount the crown (sad em blems of the faUen dynasty !), Uned with white satin with violet- coloured binding, the satin cushions most exceUently stuffed: huge, commodious, and with a movement as soft as that of a gondola. A Frenchman bought it on speculation, and brought it here for sale. In former days, from its gilded and showy appearance, it would have brought. any price ; but the taste for gaudy equipages has gone by since the introduction of foreign, and especially of English - carriages; and the present proprietor, who bought it for its intrinsic good qualities, paid but a moderate sum for it. In this carriage, drawn by six strong horses, with two first-rate coachmen and several outriders weU armed, we went along at great speed. The drivers, dressed Mexican fashion, with aU their accoutrements smart and new, looked very picturesque. Jackets and trousers of deerskin, the jackets embroidered in green, with hanging sUver buttons, the trou sers also embroidered and slit up the side of the leg, trimmed with silver buttons, and showing an under pair of unbleached linen; these, with the postiUons' boots, and great hats with gold rolls, form a dress LIFE IN MEXICO. 79 which would faire fureur, if some adventurous Mexican would venture to display it in the streets of London. We left the city by the gate of Guadalupe, and passed by the great cathedral, our road lying over the marshy plains, once covered by the waters of Lake Tezcuco. To the east lay the great lake, its broad waters shining Uke a sheet of molten silver, and the two great volcanoes ; the rising sun forming a crown of rays on the white brow of Popocatapetl. To describe once for all the general aspect of the country on this side of the valley of Mexico, suffice it to say, that there is a universal air of dreariness, vastness, and desolation. The countiy is flat, but always enlivened by the surrounding mountains, Uke an uninterest ing painting in a diamond frame ; and yet it is not wholly uninte • resting. It has a character pecuUar to itself : great plains of maguey ; with its huts withuneultivated patches, that have once been gardens, stiU filled with flowers and choked with weeds ; the huts themselves, generaUy of mud, yet not unfrequently of solid stone, roofless and windowless, with traces of having been fine buildings in former days ; the complete soUtude, unbroken except by the passing Indian, cer tainly as much in a state of savage nature as the lower class of Mexi cans were when Cortes first traversed these plains ; with the same ' character,, gentle and cowardly, false and cunning, as weak animals are apt to be by nature, and indolent and improvident, as men are in a fine chmate ; ruins everywhere — here a viceroy's country palace, serving as a tavern, where the mules stop to rest and the drivers to drink pulque ; — there, a whole village crumbUng to pieces ; roofless houses,- broken down, walls and arches, an old church — the remains of a convent. . . For leagues, scarcely a tree to be seen; then a clump of the graceful arbol de Peru,, or one great cypress ; long strings of mules and asses, with their drivers; pasture-fields with cattle ;. then again whole tracts of maguey, as far as the eye can reach ; no roads worthy of the name, but a passage made between fields of maguey, bordered by crumbling-down low stone walls, causing a jolting from which not even the easy movement, of Charles X.'s coach can save us. But the horses go at full gallop,, accustomed to go through and over everything. The road grew more picturesque as we advanced, and at length our attention was arrested by the sight of the two great pyramids, which rise to the east of the town of San. Juan Teotihuacan, which are mentioned by Humboldt, and have excited the curiosity and attention of every succeeding traveUer. These huge masses were consecrated to the Sun and Moon, which, in the time of Cortes, were there represented by two vast stone idols, covered with gold. The conquerors made use of the gold, and broke the idols in pieces, by order of the first bishop of Mexico. Unfortunately,, our time was too Umited to give them more than a passing observation. Fragments of obsidian,, in the forms of knives and arrows, with which the priests opened the breasts of their human victims, are stiU to be found there ; and numerous small idols, made of baked clay, are to be seen both there and in the plains adjoining. The Indians rather dislike to guide traveUers to these pyramids, and their reluctance to do so has increased the popular belief of the existence of great concealed trea sures near or in them. The whole plain on which these great pyramids stand was formerly 80 LIFE IN MEXICO. called Micoatl, or the Pathway of the Dead ; and the hundreds of smaUer pyramids which surround the larger ones (the Temples of the Sun and Moon) are symmetricaUy disposed in wide streets, forming a, great burial-plain, composed perhaps of the dust of their ancient warriors, an Aztec or Toltec Pere-la-Chaise, or rather a roofless West minster Abbey. So few of the ancient teocallis now remain, and these being nearly the only traces now existing of that extraordinary race, we regretted the more not being able to devote some time to their examination. Soon after leaving San Juan we were met by the Senora de , in an open carriage, coming with her children to meet us; and though she had traveUed since sunrise from her hacienda, she ap peared as if freshly dressed for an evening party : her dress, amber- coloured crape trimmed with white blonde, short sleeves and de- coltie, a set of beautiful Neapolitan strawberry coral, set in gold, straw-coloured satin shoes, and a Uttle China crape shawl, embroi dered in bright flowers ; her hair dressed and uncovered. We stopped at their hacienda of Sopayuca, an old house, standing solitarily in the midst of great fields of maguey. It has a smaU de serted garden adjoining, amongst the tangled bushes of which a little tame deer was playing, with its half-startled look and fuU wild eye. We found an exceUent breakfast prepared, and here, for the first time, I conceived the possibiUty of not disliking ^puZgue. We visited the large buildings where it is kept, and found it rather refreshing, with a sweet taste and a creamy froth upon it, and with a much less decided odour than that which is sold in Mexico. This hacienda is under the charge of an administrador, to whom pays a large annual sum, and whose place is by no means a sinecure, as he Uves in perpetual danger from robbers. He is captain of a troop of soldiers, and as his life has been spent in " persecuting robbers," he is an object of intense hatred to that free and indepen dent body, and has some thoughts of removing to another part of the country, where he may be more tranquil. He gave us a terrible ac count of those night attacks, of the ineffectual protection afforded him by the government, and of the nearly insuperable difficulties thrown in the way of any attempt to bring these men to justice. He lately tojd the president that he had some thoughts of joining the robbers himself, as they were the only persons in the republic protected by the government. The president, however, is not to blame in this matter. He has used every endeavour to check these abuses, and difficulties have been thrown in his way from very un expected sources. A propos to which, the consul told us the other day, that some time ago, having occasion to consult Judge upon an affair of importance, he was shown into an apartment where that func tionary was engaged with some suspicious-looking individuals, or rather who were above suspicion, their appearance plainly indicating their calUng. On the table before him lay a number of guns, swords, pistols, and aU sorts of arms. The judge requested Monsieur de , to be seated, observing that he was investigating a case of robbery, committed by these persons. The robbers were seated, smoking very much at their ease, and the judge was enjoying the same innocent recreation, when, his cigar becoming extinguished, one of those gentlemen, taking his from his mouth, handed it to the magistrate, LIFE IN MEXICO. 81 who relighted his puro (cigar) at it, and returned it with a polite bow. In short, they were completely hand in glove. In the evening we reached Santiago, where we now are, about eighteen leagues from Mexico : a large house in a wild-looking coun try, standing in solitary state, with hiUs behind and rocks before it, and surrounded by great uncultivated plains and pasture-fields. Everything is en grande in this domain. There are a handsome chapel and sacristy, a plaza de toros, hundreds of horses and mules ; and, between dependientes and hangers-on, we sat down, thirty or forty people, to dinner. 7th. — The very day of our arrival, Bernardo the Matador, with his men, arrived from Mexico, bringing their superb dresses with them, for the purpose of giving us a country butt-fight. As a hacienda of •this kind is an immense empty house, without furniture or books, all the amusement is to be found either out-of-doors or in large parties in the house ; and the unostentatious hospitality which exists in this and some others of the old famiUes is a pleasing remnant of Spanish manners and habits, now faUing into disuse, and succeeded by more pretensions to refinement, and less of either real wealth or socia bility. In the evening here all meet in a spacious hall ; the Sefiora de — playing the piano ; while the whole party, agents, dependientes, major-domo, coachmen, matadors, picadors, and women-servants, assemble, and perform the dances of the country : jarabes, aforrados, enanos, palomos, zapateros, &c. &c. It must not be supposed that in this apparent mingUng of ranks between masters and servants there is the sUghtest want of respect on the part of the latter : on the con trary, they seem to exert themselves, as in duty bound, for the amusement of their master and his guests. There is nothing re publican in it; no feeling of equality; as far as I have seen, that feehhg does not exist here, except between people of the same rank. It is more Uke some remains of the feudal system, where the retainers sat at the same table with their chief, but below the salt. The dances are monotonous, with smaU steps and a great deal of shuf fling; but the music is rather pretty, and some of the dancers were very graceful and agile ; and if it were not invidious to make dis tinctions, we might particularize Bernardo the Matador, the head coachman, and a handsome peasant-girl, with a short scarlet and yeUow petticoat, and a foot and ankle a la Vestris. They were aU very quiet, but seemed in a state of intense enjoyment; and some of the men accompanied the dancers on the guitar. , Yesterday morning, we set off in a burning sun, over a perfect Egyptian desert, to visit the famous arches of Cempoala, a magnifi cent work, which we are told had greatly excited the admiration of Mr. Poinsett when in this country. This aqueduct, the object of whose construction was to supply these arid plains with water, was the work of a Spanish Francisan friar, and has never been entirely completed We traveUed about six leagues, and sat there for hours, looking up at the great stone arches, which seem like a work of giants. In the afternoon, we aU rode to the Plaza de Toros. The evening was cool, and our horses good, the road pretty and shady, and the plaza itself a most picturesque enclosure, surrounded by lofty trees. Chairs were placed for us on a raised platform; and the bright green F 82 LIFE IN MEXICO. of the trees, the flashing dresses of the toreadors, the roaring of the fierce buUs, the spirited horses, the music and the cries ; the Indians shouting from the trees up which they had cUmbed : all formed a scene of savage grandeur, which, for a short time at least, is interest ing. Bernardo was dressed in blue satin and gjsld, the picadors- in blaijk and silver, the others in maroon-coloured satin and gold ; aU those on foot wore knee-breeches and white silk stockings,, a little black cap with ribbons, and a plait of hair streaming down behind. The horses were generally good, and, as each new adversary appeased, seemed to participate in the enthusiasm of their riders. One bull after another was driven in roaring, and as here they are generally fierce, and their horns not blunted as in Mexico, it is a much more, dangerous affair. The buUs were not killed, but were sufficiently tormented. One, stuck fuU of arrows and fireworks, aU adorned with ribbons and coloured paper, made a sudden spring over an im mensely high waU, and dashed into the woods I thotaght afterwards of this unfortunate animal, how it must have been- wandering about aU night, beUowing with pain, the concealed arrows piereing its flesh, and looking like gay ornaments. If the arrows had stuck too deep, and that the bull could not rub them off against the trees, he must have bled to death. Had he re mained, his fate would have been better ; for when the animal-is entirely exhausted they throw him down with a lasso,, and pulling out the arrows, put ointment on the wounds. The skiU of the men is surprising; but the most curious- part of the exhibition was when a coachman of 's, a .strong, handsome Mexican, mounted on the back of a fierce bull, which plunged and flung himself about as if possessed by a legion of. demons, and forced the animal to gaUop round and round the arena. The bull is first caught by the lasso, and thrown on his side, struggling furiously. The man mounts while he is stiU on the ground. At the -same mo ment the lasso is withdrawn, and the bull starts up, mBaddened by feeUng the weight of his unusual burden. The rider must dismount in the same way, the buU being first thrown down, otherwise he would-be gored in. a moment. It is terribly dangerous, for if the man were to lose his seat, his death is nearly certain; but these Mexicans are superb riders. A monk who is- attached to the estab lishment seems an ardent admirer of these sports, and his presence is useful, in case of a dangerous accident occurring, which is not un- frequent. The amusement was abruptly interrupted by sudden darioness, and a tremendous storm of rain and thunder, in- the midst.of which we mounted our horses, and gaUoped home. Tuldnsingo, 8th May. Another bull-fight last evening! It is like pulque: one makes wry faces at it at first, and then begins to. Uke it. One thing we soon discovered ; which was, that the bulls, if so inclined, could leap upon our platform, as they occasionaUy sprang over a waU twice as high. There was a part of the spectacle rather too horrible. The horse of one of the picadors was gored, his side torn up by the bull'shorns, and in this state, streaming with blood,, he was forced to gaUop round the circle. LIFE IN MEXICO. 8J3 This morning we set off for Tulansingo, in four carriages-and-six, containing the whole family, ourselves, maids, and children, padre and nursery governess; relays being placed all along the road> which we traversed at full gaUop. About three in the afternoon, we arrived at Tulansingo, rather an important city in its way, and which has been the theatre of many revolutionary events; with varioiss streets and shops, a handsome church, aloaldes, a prefect, &c. There appear to be some few good houses and decent families, and clean, smaU shops, and there are pretty shady walks in the environs; and though there are- also plenty of miserable dweUings and dirty people, it is altogether rather a civilized place. The house of — ~— , which stands within a court yard, and is the house par excellence, is very handsome, with little fur niture, but with some remnants of luxury. The dining-haU is a noble room, with beautiful Chinese paper, opening into a garden, which is the boast of the republic, and is indeed singularly pretty, and kept in beautiful order, with gravel walks and fine trees, clear tanks and sparkling fountains, and an extraordinary profusion- of the most beautiful flowers, roses especially. There is something ex tremely oriental in its appearance, and the fountains are orna, mented with China vases and Chinese figures of great value. Walk ing along under arches formed by rose-bushes, a small column of water spouted forth from each bush, sprinkling us all over with its shower. But the prettiest thing in the garden is a , great tank of clear water, enclosed on three sides by a Chinese building, round which runs a piazza with stone piUars, shaded by a drapeiy of white onrtains. Comfortable, welLcushioned. sofas are arranged along the piazza, which opens into a large room, where one may dress after bathing. It is the prettiest and coolest retreat possible, and entirely surrounded by trees and roses. Here one may lie, at noonday, with the sun and the world completely shut out. They caU this an Eng^ lish.garden, than which it rather resembles the summer retreat of a sultan.' When we arrived, we found dinner laid for forty persons, and the table ornamented, by the taste of the gardener, with pyramids of beautiful1 flowers. I have now formed acquaintance with. many Mexican dishes..; moU (meat stewed in red chili), boiled nopal, fried bananas, green chili, &c. Then we invariably have frijoks (brown beans stewed), hot tortillas ; and this being in the country, pulque is the universal beverage. In Mexico, tortillas and pulque are considered unfashdon^ able, though both are stiU to be met with occasionally in some of the best old houses. They have here a most deUcious .species of cream cheese, made by the Indians, and eaten with virgin honey, I believe there is an intermixture of goat's milk in it; but the Indian families who make.it, and who have been offered large sums for the recipe, find it more profitable to keep their secret. Every dinner has puchcro immediately foUowing the soup ; con sisting of boiled mutton, beef, bacon, fowls, garbanzos (a white bean), smaU gourds, potatoes, boiled pears, greens, and any other vegetables,; a piece of each put on your plate at thesame time, and accompanied by a sauce of herbs or tomatoes. 12th. -^- We have spent some days here very pleasantly; riding amongst the hiUs in the neighbourhood, exploring caves, viewing 84 LIFE IN MEXICO. waterfalls, and cUmbing on foot or on horseback, wherever foot or horse could penetrate. No habits to be worn in these parts, as I found from experience, after being caught upon a gigantic maguey, and my gown torn in two. It is certainly always the wisest plan to adopt the customs of the country one Uves in. A dress either of stuff, such as merino, or of musUn, as short as it is usuaUy worn, » rebozo tied over one shoulder, and a large straw hat, is about the most convenient costume that can be adopted. The horses are smaU, but strong, spirited, and weU-made ; generaUy unshod, which, they say, makes the motion more agreeable ; and almost aU, at least aU ladies' horses, are taught thepaso, which I find tiresome for a continuance, though a good^aso-horse wiU keep up with others that gaUop, and for a longer time. . The great amusement here in the evening is playing at juegos de prendas, games with forfeits, which I recommend to aU who wish to make a rapid improvement in the Spanish tongue. Last night, being desired to name a forfeit for the padre, I condemned him to dance the jarabe, of which he performed a few steps in his long gown and girdle, with equal awkwardness and good-nature. We met to day the prettiest Uttle ranchera, a farmer's wife or daughter, riding in front of a mozo on the same horse, their usual mode, dressed in a short embroidered muslin petticoat, white satin shoes, a pearl neck lace, and earrings, a rebozo, and a large round straw hat. The ladies sit their horses on a contrary side to our fashion. They have gene raUy adopted EngUsh saddles, but the farmers' wives frequently sit in a sort of chair, which they find much more commodious. It appears to me, that amongst the young girls here there is not that desire to enter upon the cares of matrimony which is to be- observed in many other countries. The opprobrious epithet of "old maid" is unknown. A girl is not the less admired because she has been ten or a dozen years in society ; the most severe remark made on her is that she is "hard to please." No one calls her passes, or looks out for a new face to admire. I have seen no courting of the young men either in mothers or daughters; no match-making mammas, or daughters looking out for their own interests. In fact, young people have so few opportunities of being together, that Mexican marriages must be made in heaven, for I see no oppor tunity of bringing them about upon earth. The young men, when they do meet with young ladies in society, appear devoted to, and very much afraid of them. I know but one lady in Mexico who has the reputation of having manoeuvred all her daughters into great marriages ; but she is so clever, and her daughters were such beauties, . that it can have cost her no trouble. As for flirtation, the name is unknown, and the thing also. We went this evening to visit the Countess de , who has a, house in the viUage. Found her in bed, feverish, and making use of simple remedies, such as herbs, the knowledge and use of which have descended from the ancient Indians to the present lords of the soil. The Spanish historians who have written upon the conquest of Mexico aU mention the knowledge which the Mexican physicians had of herbs. It was supposed by these last, that for every infirmity there was a remedy in the herbs of the field; and to apply them according to the nature of the malady was the chief science of those primitive professors of medicine. Much of what is now used in LIFE IN MEXICO. 85 European pharmacy is due to the research of Mexican doctors ; such as sarsapariUa, jalap, friar's rhubarb, mechoacan, &c; also various emetics, antidotes to poison, remedies against fever, and an infinite number of plants, minerals, gums, and simple medicines. As for their infusions, decoctions, ointments, plasters, oils, &c. Cortes himself mentions the wonderful number of these which he saw in the Mexican market for sale. From certain trees they distiUed balsams, and drew a balsamic liquid both from a decoction of the branches and from the bark steeped in water. Bleeding and bathing were their other favourite remedies. The country people breathed a vein»with a maguey-point, and when they could not find leeches, substituted the prickles of the American hedgehog. Besides bathing in the rivers, lakes, tanks, and fountains, they used a bath which is still to be seen in many Indian viUages, and which they caU the temezcalli. It is made of unbaked bricks; its form is that of a baker's oven, about eight feet wide and six high ; the pavement rather convex, and lower than the surface of the soil. A person can enter this bath only on his knees. Opposite the entry is a stone or brick stove, its opening towards' the exterior of the bath, with a hole to let out the smoke. Before the bath' is prepared, the floor inside is- covered with a mat, on which are placed a jar of water, some herbs, and leaves of corn. The stove is then heated until the stones which unite it with the bath become red-hot. When the bather enters, the entry is closed, and the only opening left is a- hole at the top of the vault, which, when the smoke of the oven has passed through, is also shut. They then pour water upon the red- hot stones, from which a thick vapour arises, which fills the temezcdlli. The bather then throws himself on the mat, and drawing down the steam with the herbs and maize, wets them in the tepid water of the jar, and if he has any pain, appUes them to the part affected. This having produced perspiration, the door is opened, and the weU-baked patient comes out and dresses. For fevers, for bad colds,, for the bite of a poisonous animal, this is said to be a certain cure ;. also for acute rheumatism. For the cure of wounds, the Spaniards found the Mexican remedies. most efficacious. Cortes himself was cured by one of their doctors. of a severe wound in the head, received at Otumba, through which we lately passed. For fractures, for humours, for everything, they had their remedy; sometimes pulverizing the seeds of plants, and attributing much of their efficacy to the superstitious ceremonies- and prayers which they used while applying them, especially those Which they offered up to Tzapotlatenan, the goddess of medicine: A great deal of this knowledge is stiU preserved amongst their descendants, and considered efficacious. For every iUness there is an herb, for every accident a remedy. Baths are in constant use, although these temezcallis are confined to the Indians. In every family there is some knowledge of simple medicine, very necessary in haciendas especiaUy, where no physician can possibly be procured. . ' . . . Whilst I write on these irrelevant matters, I am warned that the coaches are at the door, and that we are about setting off for Tepenacasco, another hacienda of Sefior 's, a few leagues. from this. 86 LIFE IN MEXICO. LETTER XVII. Tepenacasco. This is a fine Wild scene. The house stands entirely alone ; not a tree near it. Great mountains rise behind it, and in every other direction, as far as the eye can reach, are vast plains, over which the Wind comes whistling fresh and free, with nothing to impede its triumphant progress. In front of the house is a clear sheet of water, a great, deep, square basin for coUecting the rain. These jagueys, as they are called, are very common in Mexico, where there are few rivers, arid where the Use of machines for raising water is by no means general as yet. There is no garden here, but there are a few shrubs and flowers in the inner court-yard. The house inside is handsome, with a chapel and a patio, which is occasionally used as a plaza de toros. The rooms are well fitted up, and the bedroom walls are Covered With a pretty French paper, representing scenes of Swiss rural Ufe. There are great out-nouses, stables for the mules and horses, and stone barns for the wheat and barley, Which, together with pulque, form the produce of this hacienda.' We took a long ride this morning to visit a fine lake where there are plenty of wild-ducks and turtle. The gentlemen took their guns and had tolerable sport. The lake is very deep, so that boats hare sailed on it, and several miles in circumference, with a rivulet flowing from it. Yet, with aU this water, the surrounding land, not more than "twenty feet higher, is dry and sterile, and the lake is turned to no account, either from want of means or of hydraulic knowledge. However, C^ — n having made some observation on this subject, the proprietor of the lake and of a ruined house standing near, which is the very picture of loneliness and desolation, remarked in reply, that from this estate to Mexico the distance is thirty-six leagues ; that a load of wheat costs one real a league, and moreover the alcaba, the duty which has to, be paid at the gates of Mexico, so that it would bring uo profit if sent there; while in the surrounding district there is not sufficient population to consume the produce. Thus these Unnecessary and "burdensome taxes, the thinness of the population, and the want of proper means of transport, impede the prosperity of the people and check the progress of agriculture. . . . I had a beautiful horse, but half-broken, and which took fright and ran off with me. I got great credit for keeping my seat so well, which I must confess was more through good fortune than skill. The day was delightful, the air exhilarating, and the blue sky perfectly cloudless as we galloped over the plains; but at length the wind rose so high that we dismounted and got into the carriage. We sat by the shores of the lake, and walked along its pebbly margin, watching the wild ducks as they skimmed over its grassy surface, and returned home in a magnificent sunset; the glorious god himself a blood-red globe, surrounded by blazing clouds of gold and crimson. 17th. — After mass in the chapel we left Tepenacasco. about seven o'clock, and traveUed (I believe by a short-cut) over rocks and walls, torrents and fields of maguey, all in a heavy carriage with six horses. LIFE IN MEXICO. 87 Arriving in sight -of walls, the mozos gallop on and tear them down. Over the momnrtaih torrents or barrancas they dash boldly, encou raging the horses by the wildest shrieks. We stopped at Sa/n Miguel, a country-house -belonging to the Count de Regla, the former proprietor of the mines which we were about to visit; the most picturesque and lovely place imaginable, but entirely abandoned; the house comfortless and out of repair. We wandered through, paths cut in the beautiful woods, and by the side of a rivulet that , seems to fertilize -everything through which it winds. We .climbed the hiUs, and made our way through the tangled luxu riance of trees and flowers ; and in the midst of hundreds of gaudy , Islossoms, I neglected them all upon coming to a grassy slope covered with daisies and buttercups. We even found some hawthorn-bushes. It might be English scenery, were it not that there is a richness in the vegetation .unknown in England. But aU these beautiful soli tudes are abandoned to the deer that wander fearlessly amongst the woods, and the birds that sing in their branches, . While we were still far from the house; a thunder-storm came on. When it rains here the windows of heaven seem opened, and the clouds pour down water in floods-; the lightning also appears to me peculiarly vivid, and many more accidents ocour from it here than in the north. We were drenched' in &ie minutes, and in this.plight.resumed our seats in the carriage, and set off for iGuasco (a village where we were to pass the night) in the midst of the pelting storm. In an hour or two the horses were wading up to their knees in Water, and we arrived at the pretty village of Giuaseo- in a most comfortless condition. There are no inns in these parts, but we were hospitably received by a widow lady, a friend of >s. The Sefiora de , in clear muslin and lace, with satin shoes, was worse off than I in mousseline-de-laine and brodequins ; neverthe less, I meaa to adopt the fashion of the country to-morrow, when we are to rise at four to go on to Real del Monte ; and try the effect of trairoUmg with dear gowm satin petticoat, and shoes ditto ; because, " when one is in Home;" &c. The storm continues with such una bated violence, that we must content ourselves with eoatemplating the watery landscape from the windows. U/epenacascQ. Rose in Guasco at four o'clock, dressed by candTe-nght, took cho colate, and set-off for Real del Monte. After we had travelled a few leagues, tolerably cold, we rejoiced when the sun rose, and, dispelling the imist, threw his1 cheerful light over mountain and wood. The trees looked green and refreshed after their last night's bath; the very rocks were sparkEng with sUver. The morning was perfectly brilliant, and every leaf and flower was glittering with the rain-drops not yet dried. The carriage ascended slowly the road cut through the. mountains by the English company ; a' fine and useful enterprise, the first broad and smooth road I have seen as yet in the repubUc. Until it was made, hundreds of mules daily conveyed the ore from the mines over a dangerous mountain path to the hacienda of Regla, a distance of six or seven leagues. We overtook waggons conveying timber to the -mines of Real, nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. 88 LIFE IN MEXICO. The scenery was magnificent : on one side mountains covered with oak and pine, and carpeted by the brightest-coloured flowers; goats cUmbing up the perpendicular rocks, and looking down upon us from their vantage-ground; fresh clear rivulets, flinging them selves from rock to rock, and here and there- Uttle Indian huts perched amongst the cliffs; on the other, the deep valley with its bending forests and gushing river; whUe far above we caught a glimpse of Real itself, with its sloping roofs and large church, standing, in the very midst of forests and mountains. We began to see people, with fair hair and blue eyes ; and one individual, with a shock of fiery red hair and an undeniable Scotch twang, I felt the greatest inclination to claim as a countryman. The Indians here looked cleaner than those in or near Mexico, and were not more than half naked. The whole country here, as well as the mines, formerly be longed to the Count de Regla, who was so wealthy that when his son, the present count, was christened, the whole party walked from his house to the church upon ingots of sUver. The countess, having quarrelled with the vice-queen, sent her, in token of reconciUation, a white satin slipper entirely covered with large diamonds. The count invited the King of Spain to visit his Mexican territories, as suring him that the hoofs of his majesty's horse should touch nothing but soUd silver from Vera Cruz to the capital. This might be a bra vado ; but a more certain proof of bis wealth exists in the fact, that he caused two ships, of the Une, of the largest size, to be constructed in Havana at his expense, made of mahogany and cedar, and pre sented them to the king. The present count was, as I have already told you, married to the beautiful daughter of the Giiera Rodriguez. We arrived at Real del Monte about nine o'clock, and drove to the director's house, which is extremely pretty, commanding a most beautiful and extensive view, and where we found a large fire burning in the grate ; very agreeable, as the morning was stiU some what chiU, and which had a look of home and comfort that made it still more acceptable. We were received with the greatest cordiaUty by the director, Mr. Rule, and his lady, and invited to partake of the most delicious breakfast that I had seen for a long while ; a happy | milange of English and Mexican. The snow-white table-cloth, smoking tea-urn, hot rolls, fresh eggs, coffee, tea, and toast, looked very much a VAnglaise, while there were numbers of substantial dishes a VEspagnole, and delicious fresh cream cheeses, to aU which our party did ample justice. After breakfast we went out to visit the mines ; and it was curious to see English chndren, clean and pretty, with their white hair and rosy cheeks, and neat straw bonnets, mingled with the little copper- coloured Indians. We visited aU the different works ; the apparatus-, for sawing, the turning-lathe, foundry, &c. ; but I regretted to find that we could not descend into the mines. We went to the mouth of the shaft caUed the Dolores, which has a narrow opening, and is- entered by perpendicular ladders. The men go down with conical caps on their heads, in which is stuck a Ughted taUow candle. In the great shaft, called Terreros, they descend, by means of these ladders, to the depth of a thousand feet, there being platforms at certain distances, on which they can rest. We were obliged to con tent ourselves with seeing them go down, and with viewing and ad miring aU the great works which English energy has estahUshed LIFE IN MEXICO. ' 89 heie : the various steam-engines ; the buildings for the separation and washing of the ore ; the great stores, workshops, offices, &c. Nearly aU the workmen are British, and of these the Scotch are preferred. Most of the miners are Indians, who work in companies, and receive in payment the eighth part of the proceeds. The director gave us some specimens of silver from the great heaps where they lie, spark ling like genii's treasure. Although I have not descended into these mines, I might give you a description of them by what I have heard, and fill my paper with arithmetical figures, by which you might judge of the former and- the present produce. I might tell you how Don Lucas Alaman went to England, and raised, as if by magic, the enthusiasm of the Eng lish ; how one fortune after another has been swaUowed up in the: dark, deep gulf of speculation ; how expectations have beem disap pointed ; and how the great cause of this is the scarcity of qaiick- sUver, which has been bought . at the rate of one hundred and fifty doUars per quintal in real cash, when the same quantity was given at credit by the Spanish government for fifty doUars : how heaps of silver lie abandoned, because the expense of obtaining quicksilver- renders it whoUy unprofitable to extract it ; and I might repeat the opinion of those persons by whom I have heard the subject dis cussed, who express their astonishment that, such being the case, an- arrangement is not made with the country which is the almost ex clusive possessor of the quicksilver mines, by which it might be pro cured at a lower rate, and this great source of wealth not thrown away. But for aU these matters I refer you to Humboldt and Ward, by whom they are scientificaUy treated, and wiU not trouble you with superficial remarks on so important a subject. In fact, I must confess that my, attention was frequently attracted from the mines, and the engines, and the works of man, and the discussions arising therefrom, to the stupendous natural scenery by which we were sur rounded; the unexplored forests that clothe the mountains to their very summits, the torrents that leaped and sparkled in the sunshine, the deep ravines, the many-tinted foUage, the bold and jutting rocks. All combine to increase our admiration of the bounties of Nature to this favoured land, to which she has given "every herb bearing seed, and every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food," while her veins are rich with precious metals ; the useful and the beautiful offered with unsparing hand. We were obUged to leave Real about two o'clock, having a long journey to perform before night, as we had the intention of returning. to sleep at Tepenacasco. We took leave of our Tiospitable enter tainers, and again resumed our journey over these fine roads, many parts of which are blasted from the great rocks of porphyry ; and as. we looked back at the picturesque colony glistening in the sun, could hardly beUeve the prophecies of our more experienced drivers, that, a storm was brewing in the sky, which would burst forth before evening. We were determined not to believe it, as it was impossible to pass by the famous hacienda and ravine of Regla without paying them at least a short, visit. This stupendous work of the Mexican miners in former days is. some leagues to the south of Real del Monte, and is said to have cost many milUons of doUars. One should view it as we did, in a thunder storm; for it has an air of vastness and desolation, and at the same 90 LIFE IN MEXICO. time of grandeur, that shows weU amidst a war of the elements. Down in a steep barranca, encircled by basaltic cUffs, it Ues; a mighty pile of building, which seems as if it might have been con structed by some philosophical giant or necromancer : so that one is not prepared to .find there an English director and his wife, and the unpoetic comforts of roast mutton and potatoes! All is on a gigantic scale : the immense vaulted storehouses for the silver ore ; the great smelting-furnaces and covered buUdings, where we saw the process of amalgamation going on ; the water-wheels; in short, aU the necessary machinery for the smelting and amalgamation of the metal. We walked to see the great cascade, with its rows of basaltic columns, and found a seat on a piece of broken pillar beside the rushing river, where he had a fine view of the lofty cliffs,. covered with the wildest and most luxuriant vegetation : vines trading them selves over every broken shaft ; moss creeping over the huge, dis jointed masses of rock; and trees overhanging the precipitous ravine. The columns look as if they might have been the work of those who, on the plains of Shinar, began to build the city and the tower whose top was to reach to heaven. But, as we sat here, the sky suddenly became overcast ; great black masses of cloud coUected over our heads, and the riimbldng of thun der in the distance gave notice of an approaching storm. We had scarcely time to get under shelter of the director's roof, when the thunder began to echo loudly amongst the rocks, and was speedily foUowed by torrents of rain. It was a superb storm : the Ughtning flashed among the trees, the wind howled furiously, while Far along From' peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Leapt the live thunder." After resting and dining amidst a running accompaniment of plash ing rain, roaring wind, and deep-toned thunder, we found that it was in vain to wait for a favourable change in the weather ; and certainly, with less experienced drivers, it would have been anything but safe to have set off amidst the darkness of the storm, down pre cipitous descents and over torrents sweUed by the rain. The Count de Regla, who, attracted by the plentiful supply of water in this ra vine, conceived the idea of employing part ©f his enormous fortune in the construction of these colossal works, must have had an imagi nation on a laTge scale The English directors, whose wives bury themselves in such abysses, ought to feel more grateful to them than any other husbands towards their sacrificing better-halves. For the men, occupied all day amongst their workmen and machinery, and returning late in the evening to dine and sleep, there is no great Seff-immolatioi*; but a poor woman, Uving aU alone, in a house fenced in by gigantic rocks, with no other sound in her ears from morning till night but the roar of thunder or the clang of machi nery, had need, for her personal comfort, to have either a most romantic imagination, so that she may console herself with feehng like an enchanted princess in a giant's castle, or a most common- plaoe spirit, so that she may darn stockings to the sound of the water fall, and feel no other inconvenience from the storm but that her husband will require dry hnen when he comes home. LIFE IN MEXICO. '91 As for us, we were drenched before reaching the carriage,, into which the water was pouring ; and when we set off once more amidst the rapidly-increasing darkness, and over those precipitous roads, we thought that our chance of reaching the proposed haven that night was very smaU. After much toil to the horses, we goij out of the ravines, and found ourselves once more on the great plains, where the tired animals ploughed their way over fields, and ditches, and great stones, and among trees and tangled bushps; an oeoasional flash of lightning our only guide. ¦ Great was our joy when, about eleven o'clock, a man riding on in advance shouted out that the Ughts of Tepenacasco were in sight; and stiU more complete our satisfaction when we drove round the tank into the court-yard of the hacienda. We were received with great applause by the inmates, and were not sorry to rest after a very fatiguing yet agreeable day. Mexico, 21st May. We left Tepenacasco the day before yesterday. Our journey was very dangerous, in consequence of the great rains, which had sweUed the torrents ; especiaUy as we set off late, and most of it was per formed by night. In these barrancas, carriages and horsemen have been frequently swept away and dashed in pieces over the precipices. But, to make our situation more disagreeable, we had scarcely set off before a terrible storm of thunder and rain again came on, with more violence than the night preceding. It grew perfectly dark, and we listened with some alarm to the roaring torrents, over which, espe ciaUy over one, not many leagues from Sopayuca, where we were to spend the night, it was extremely doubtful, whether we could pass. The carriage was full of water, but we were too much alarmed to be uneasy about trifles. Amidst the howUng of the wind and the peal ing of thunder, no one could hear the other speak. Suddenly, by a vivid flash of lightning, the dreaded barranca appeared in sight for a moment, and almost before the drivers could stop them, the horses had plunged in. It was a moment of mortal fear such as I shall never forget. The shrieks of the drivers to encourage the horses, the loud cries of "Ave Maria!" the uncertainty as to whether our heavy carriage could be dragged across, the horses struggling and splashing in the boiling torrent, and the horrible fate that awaited us should one of them fall or falter! . . , The Sefiora -¦ and I shut out eyes and held each other's hands, and certainly no one breathed till we were safe on the other side. We were then told that we had crossed within a few feet of a precipice over which a coach had .been dashed into fifty pieces during one of these swells, and of course every one kiUed ; and that if, instead of horses, we had traveUed with mules, we must have been lost. You may imagine that we were not sorry, to reach Sopayuca, where the people ran out to the door at the sound of carriage- wheels, and could not beUeve that we had passed the barranca that night, as two or three horsemen who had ridden in that direction had turned back, and pronounced it impassable. Lights and supper were soon procured,; and by way of interlude, a monstrous bull, 'of great fame in these parts, was led up to the supper- table for our inspection, with a, rope through his nose ; a fierce brute, but famUiarly called "ElGhatol' (the Flatnose), from the shortness. of 92 LIFE IN MEXICO. his horns. The lightning continued very vivid, and they told us that a woman had been struck there some time before, while in the chapel by night. _ ... We rose at four o'clock the next morning and set off for Mexico. The morning, as usual after these storms, was pecuUarly fresh and beautiful; but the sun soon grew oppressive on the great plains. About two o'clock we entered Mexico by the Guadalupe gate. We found our house in statu quo; agreeable letters from Europe ; great preparations making for the EngUsh ball, to assist at which we have returned sooner than we otherwise should, and for which my femme- de-chambre has just completed a dress for me, very much to her own satisfaction. LETTER XVIII. 25th May. The English ball at the Mineria has passed off with great eclat. NoT thing could be more splendid than the general effect of this noble. building, briUiantly illuminated and fiUed with a weU-dfessed crowd. The president and corps diplomatique were in full uniform, and the" display of diamonds was extraordinary. We ladies of the corps diplo matique tried to flatter ourselves that we made up in elegance what we wanted in magnificence; for in jewels no foreign ladies could' attempt to compete with those of the country. The daughter of Countess , just arrived from Paris, and whose acquaintance I made for the first time, wore pale blue, with garlands of pale pinl^ roses, and a parure of the most superb brilliants. The Sefiora de." A 's head reminded me of that of the Marchioness of London derry in her opera-box. The Marquesa de Vivanco had a riviere of brilliants of extraordinary size and beauty, and perfectly weU set. Madame S r wore a very rich blonde dress, garnitfwith plumes of ostrich feathers, a large diamond fastening each phrme. One lady wore a diadem which said could not be worth less than a hun dred thousand doUars. Diamonds are always worn plain or with pearls ; coloured stones are considered trash, which is a pity, as I think rubies and emeralds set in diamonds would give more, variety and splendour to their jewels. There was a profusion of large pearls, generally of a pear shape. The finest and roundest were those worn by the Senora B a. There were many blonde dresses, a great fashion here. I know no lady without one. Amongst the prettiest and most tastefuUy-dressed girls were the E s, as usual. Many dresses were overloaded, a common fault in Mexico; and many of the dresses, though rich, were old-fashioned, but the coup-d'osil was not the less brilliant ; and rfrwas somewhat astonishing, in such a multitude, not to" see a single objectionable person. To be sure, the company were aU invited. On entering the noble court, which was brilliantly iUuminated with coloured lamps hung from piUar to pillar, and passing up the great staircase, we were met at the first landing by Mr. P , in full uniform, and other English gentlemen, the directors of the baU, who stood there to receive the ladies. His exceUency led me up-stairs to LIFE LN MEXICO. 93 the ,top of the ball-room, where chairs were placed for the president, ladies of the diplomatics, cabinet ministers, &c. The music was ex ceUent, and dancing was already in fuU force. And though there were assembled what is caUed all Mexico, the rooms are so large that the crowd was not disagreeable nor the heat oppressive. Pictures of Queen Victoria were hung in the different large halls. The supper- tables were very handsome; and in fact the ball altogether was worthy of its object; for Messieurs les Anglais always do these things well when they attempt them. The president took me to supper. The company walked in to the music of " God save the Queen." After we had sat a Uttle while, the president demanded silence, and in a short speech proposed the health of her majesty Queen Victoria, which was drunk by all the company standing. After supper, we continued dancing- till nearly six in the morning ; and when we got into the carriage it was broad daylight, and all the beUs were ringing for mass ! This is the best baU we have seen here, without any exception, and is said to have cost eleven thousand doUars. There were cer tainly great numbers of pretty faces at this fete, many pretty girls whom we had not seen before, and whom the English secretaries had contrived to unearth. Fine eyes are a mere drug — eveiy one has •them; large, dark, fuU orbs, with long silken lashes. As for dia monds, no man above the rank of a lepero marries in this country without presenting his bride with at least a pair of diamond earrings, or a pearl necklace with a diamond clasp. They are not always a propf of wealth, though they constitute it in themselves. Their owners may be very poor in other respects. They are considered a necessary of life ; quite as much so as shoes and stockings. June 2d. — On the 15th of April, the pontifical bulls arrived from Rome, confirming the election of the Sefior Posada to the archiepis- eopal dignity; and on Sunday last, the 31st of May, the consecration took place in the cathedral with the greatest pomp. But the cere mony, though long, was very superb, the music fine, the quantity of jewels on the dresses of the bishops and priests, and on the holy ves sels, &c. enormous. The bishops were arrayed in white velvet and gold, and their mitres were UteraUy covered with diamonds. The gold candlesticks, and golden basins for holy water, and golden in censories, reminded me of the description of the ornaments of the Jewish tabernacle in the days of Moses; of the "candlesticks of pure gold, with golden branches;" and "the tongs and snuff-dishes of pure gold ;" or of the temple of Solomon, where the altar was of gold, and the table of gold, and the candlesticks, and the snuffers, and the basins, and the spoons, and the censors were of pure gold. When everything was over, OHr carriage not being visible amongst the crowd of vehicles, I returned home in that of the minister, with him and his attaches; after which, they and C n returned to dine with the new archbishop in his palace. A dish of sweetmeats was sent me from his table, which are so pretty (probably the chef- d'oeuvre of the nuns) that I send them to you, to preserve as a me morial of the consecration of the first Mexican archbishop— perhaps of the last ! 94 LIFE IN MEXICO. LETTER XIX. 3rd June. You ask me to teU you how I find the. Mexican servants. Hitherto I had avoided the ungrateful theme, from very weariness of it. The badness of the servants is an unfaiUng source of complaint even amongst Mexicans; much more so amongst foreigners, especially on their first arrival. We hear of their addiction to stealing, their- lazi ness, drunkenness, dirtiness, with a host of other vices. That these complaints are frequently just, there can he no doubt, but the evil might be remedied to a great extent. In the first place, servants are constantly taken without being required to bring a recommendation from their last place; and In the next, recommendations are con stantly given, whether from indolence or mistaken kindness, to- servants who do not deserve them. A servant who has Uved in a dozen different houses, staying about a month in each, is not thought the worse of on that account. As the love of finery is inherent in them aU, even more so than in other daughters of Eve, a girl wiU go to service merely to earn sufficient to buy herself an embroidered chemise ; and if, in addition to this, she can pick up a pair of smaU old satin shoes, she will teU you she is tired of working, and going home to rest ("para descansar"). So little is necessary, when one can contentedly live on tortillas and chile, sleep on a mat, and dress in rags! A decent old woman, who came to the house to wash shortly after our arrival in this country, left us at the end of the month, "para descansar." Soon after, she used to come with her six children, they and herself aU in rags, and beg the gardener to give her any odds and ends of vegetables he could spare. My maid asked her why, being so poor, she had left a good place, where she got twelve dol lars a month. "Jesus!" said she, "if you only knew the pleasure of doing nothing!" I wished to bring up a little girl as a servant, having her taught to read, sew, &c. A child of twelve years old, one of a large family, who subsisted upon charity, was procured for me ; and I promised her mother that she should be taught to read, taken regularly to church, and instructed in aU kinds of work. She was rather pretty, and veiy intelUgent, though extremely indolent; and, though she had no stockings, would consent to wear nothing but dirty white satin shoes, too short for her foot. Once a-week, her mother, a taU, slatternly woman, with long tangled hair, and a cigar in her mouth, used to come to visit her, accompanied by a friend, a friend's friend, and a train of girls, her daughters. The housekeeper would give them some dinner, after which they would ah light their cigars, and, together with the little Josefita, sit, and howl, and bemoan them selves, crying and lamenting her sad fate in being obliged to go out to service. After these visits, Josefita was fit for nothing. If desired to sew, she would sit looking so miserable, and doing so little, that it . seemed better to aUow her to leave her work alone. Then, tolerably LIFE IN MEXICO. 95 contented, she would Bit on a mat, doing nothing, her hands folded and her eyes fixed on vacancy. According to promise, I took her several times to see her mother- but One day, being occupied, I sent her alone in sfche carriage, with charge to the servants. to bringi'her safely hack. In the evening she returned, accompanied by her whole famUy, allcrying and howling: "For the love of the Most Holy Virgin, senora mia! For la purisima Conception!". &e. &e. I asked what had happened, and after much difficulty discovered 'that their horror was occasioned by my having sent her alone in the carriage. It happened that the Countess S-- «~ was in the drawing-room, and to her I related the cause of the up roar. To my astonishment, she assured me that the woman was in this instance right, and that it was very dangerous to send a .girl of twelve years old from one street to another, in the power of the coachman and footman. -Finding from such good (authority that this was the case, I begged the woman to be contented- with seeing her daughter once a month, when, if ishe could not come herself, I should send her under proper protection. She agreed ; but -one day, having given Josefita permission to spend the night 'at her mother's, I received next morning a very dirty note,- nearly illegible, which, after calling down the protection of the Vi-rginupon me, concluded — "But with much sorrow I must take my child from the mostiUus- trious protection of your exceUency, for she needs to Test herself (es preeiso >que descanse), and is tired forthe present of working." The woman then returned to beg, which she considered infinitely less degrading. Against this- nearly universal indolence and indifference to earning money the heads of famihes have to contend, as also against thieving and dirtiness; yet I think the remedy much easier than it appears. If, on the one hand, no one were to receive- servants jaitothe house without respectable references, especiaUy from their last place,- and if their having remained one year in the same house -wease comsiclered necessary to -their being received into another, unless from some pecuUar .circumstances ; and if, on the other-hand, it were considered unjust -and dangerous, .as it reaUy is, to -recommend a servant who has been guilty of stealing as being " mug hemr,ads" (very -honest), some improvement might Boon take place. A porter was 'recommended tons as "muy homradof not from his •last place, but from one before it. He was a we'li-dressed,. sad-looking individual; and -at the same time we took his-wife as washerwoman, and .his brother as valet to our attache, thus having the whole family under our roof; -wisely taMng it for granted that, he being' recom mended as particularly hoflest, his relations were " all honourable men." An English lady hanppemed to call on me, and -a short time after I went to return her wisit, when she informed me that the person who had .opened the oWr for her was a notorious thief, Whom the police had long been in slareh of; that she had feared sending a servant to warn us of our%anger, lest, guessing the purport -of her message, he might rob tlfe house before leaving it. -We said nothing to the man that evening, but he looked paler and more miserable than usual, probably foreseeing what would be the result of Mrs. 's visit. The next morning C n sent for him and dismissed him, giving hinua monthJs wages, that he might not be tempted to steal from immediate' want. His face grew perfectly 96 LIFE IN MEXICO. livid, but he made no remark. In half-an-hour he returned and begged to speak with C n. He confessed that the crime of which he concluded he was accused he had in fact committed; that he had been tempted to a gambling-house, while he had ill his pocket a large sum of money belonging to his master. After losing his own money, he tried his fortune with what was not his own ; lost the whole sum, then pawned a valuable shawl worth several hundred doUars, with which he also had been entrusted; and having lost everything in despair, made his escape from Mexico. He remained in concealment for some time, tiU, hearing that we wanted a porter, he ventured to present himself to the housekeeper with his former certificate. He declared himself thoroughly repentant; that this was his first, and would be his last crime : but who can trust the good resolutions of a gambler ? We were obUged to send him away, especiaUy as the other servants already had some suspicions concern ing him ; and everything stolen in the house would in future have "been attributed to him. The gentleman who had recommended him afterwards confessed that he always had strong suspicions of this man's honesty, and knew him to be so determined a gambler that he had pawned aU he possessed, even his wife's clothes, to ob tain money for that purpose. Now, as a porter in Mexico has pretty much at his disposal the property, and even the Uves, of the whole family, it is certainly most blameable to recommend to that situation a man whose honesty is more than doubtful We afterwards pro cured two soldiers from the Invalidos, old Spaniards, to act in that capacity, who had no other foiblesse but that of being constantly drunk. We at length found two others, who only got tipsy alter nately, so that we considered ourselves very weU off. We had a long series of galopinas (kitchen-maids), and the only -one who brought a first-rate character with her robbed the house keeper. The money, however, was recovered, and was found to have been placed by the girl in the hands of a rich and apparently respectable coach-maker. He refunded it to the rightful owner, and the galopina was punished by a month's imprisonment, which he should have shared with her. One of the most disagreeable customs of the women-servants is that of wearing their long hair hanging down at its full length, matted, uncombed, and always in the way. I cannot imagine how the Mexican ladies, who complain of this, per mit it. Flowing hair sounds very picturesque ; but when it is very dirty, and suspended over the soup, it is not a pretty picture. The rebozo, in itself graceful and convenient, has the disadvantage of being the greatest cloak for aU untidiness, uncombed hair, and raggedness, that ever was invented. Even in the better classes, it occasions much indolence in the toilet, but in the common people its effect is overwhelming. When the rebozo drops off, or is displaced by chance, we see what they would be without it. As for the scrape", it is both convenient and graceful, especiaUy on horseback ; but though Indian in its origin, the custom of covering the lower part of the face with it is taken from the Spanish cloak ; and the opportunity which both serape and rebozo afford for concealing large knives about the person, as also for enveloping both face and figure so as to be scarcely recognisable, is no doubt the cause of the many murders which take place amongst the lower orders, in moments of excitement and drunkenness. If they had not these knives at hand, their rage LIFE IN MEXICO. 97 would probably cool, or a fair fight would finish the matter ; and if they could not wear these knives concealed, I presume they would be prohibited from carrying them. As for taking a woman-cook in Mexico one must have strong nerves and a good appetite to eat what she dresses, however palatable, after having seen her. One look at her, flowing locks, one glance at her rebozo, et c'est fini. And yet the Mexican servants have their good qualities, and are a thousand times preferable to the foreign servants one finds in Mexico ; especiaUy to the French. Bringing them with you is a dangerous experiment. In ten days they begin to fancy themselves ladies and gentlemen : the men have Don tacked to their name ; and they either marry and set up shops, or become unbearably insolent. A tolerable French cook may occasionally be had, but you must pay for his services their weight in gold, and wink at his extortions and robberies. There are one or two French restau rateurs, who wiU send you in a very good dinner at an extravagant price ; and it is common in foreign houses, especially amongst the English, to adopt this plan whenever they give a large enter tainment. The Mexican servants have some never-failing good quaUties. They are the perfection of civility: humble, obUging, excessively good-tempered, and very easily attached to those with whom they live ; and if that rara avis, a good Mexican housekeeper, can be found, and that such may be met with I from experience can testify, then the troubles of the menage rest upon her shoulders; and accus tomed as she is to the amiable weaknesses of her compatriotes, she is neither surprised nor disturbed by them. As for wages, a good porter has from fifteen to twenty doUars per month ; a coachman from twenty to thirty : many houses keep two, or even three coachmen — one who drives from the box, one who rides postiUon, and a third for emergencies. Our friend , who has many horses, mules, and carriages, has four, and pays forty dollars per month to bis head coachman ; the others in proportion. A French cook has about thirty doUars ; a housekeeper from twelve to fifteen ; a major-domo about twenty or more ; a footman six or seven; galopina. and chambermaid five or six; a gardener from twelve to fifteen. Sewing-girls have about three reals per diem. Porter, coachman, and gardener, have their wives and families in the house, which would be an annoyance were the houses not so large. The men-servants generally are much cleaner and better dressed than the women. One circumstance is remarkable : that, dirty as the women-servants are, and notwithstanding the enormous size of Mexican houses and Mexican famiUes, the houses themselves are, generaUy speaking, the perfection of cleanliness. This must be due either to a good house keeper, which is rarely to be found, or to the care taken by the mistress of the house herself. That private houses should have this advan tage over churches and "theatres, only proves that ladies know how to manage these matters better than gentlemen ; so that one is in- cUned to wish, d la Martineau, that the Mexican police were entirely composed of old women. 12th. — I have formed an acquaintance with a very amiable and agreeable nun in the convent of the Santa Teresa, one of the strictest orders. I have only seen her twice, through a grating. She is a 98 LIFE IN MEXICO. handsome woman of good famUy, and it is said of a remarkably joyous disposition; fond of music and dancing, and gay society ; yet at the age of eighteen, contrary to the wishes of aU her family, she took the veU, and declares she has never repented of it. Although I cannot see her, I can hear her voice, and talk to her through a turning wooden screen, which has a very mysterious effect. She gives me an account of her occupations and of the Uttle events that take place in her small world within, whilst I bring her news from the world without. The common people have the greatest venera tion for the holy sisterhood, and I generally find there a number of women with baskets, and men carrying parcels or letters; some asking their advice or assistance, others executing their commissions, bringing them vegetables or bread, and listening to the sound of then voices with the most eager attention. My friend, the Madre , has promised to dress a number of wax figures for me, in the exact costume of all the different nuns in Mexico, beginning with that of her own convent. I have now seen three nuns take the veil ; and, next to a death, consider it the saddest event that can occur in this nether sphere ; yet the frequency of these human sacrifices here is not so strange as might at first appear. A young girl, who knows nothing of the world ; who, as it too frequently happens, has at home neither amuse - ment nor instruction, and no society abroad ; who from chUdhood is under the dominion of her confessor, and who firmly beUeves that by entering a convent she becomes sure of heaven ; who moreover finds there a number of companions of her own age, and of older women who load her with praises and caresses : it is not, after all, astonishing that she should consent to ensure her salvation on such easy terms. Add to this the splendour of the ceremony, of which she is the sole object; the cynosure of aU approving eyes. A girl of sixteen finds it hard to resist aU this. I am told that more girls are smitten by the ceremony than by anything else, and am inoUned to beUeve it, from the remarks I have heard made on those occasions by young girls in my vicinity. What does she lose ? A husband and children ? Pro bably she has seen no one who has touched her heart. Most probably she has hitherto seen no men, or at least conversed with none but her brothers, her uncles, or her confessor. She has perhaps also felt the troubles of a Mexican menage. ¦ The' society of men ! She wiU stiU see her confessor, and she wiU have occasional visits from .reve rend padres and right reverend bishops. Some of these convents are not entirely free from scandal Amongst the monks, there are many Who are openly a disgrace to their call ing, though I firmly believe that by far the greater number lead a life of privation and virtue. Their conduct can, to a certain extent, be judged of by the world ; but the pale nuns, devout and pure, im mured in the cloister for life, kneeUng before the shrine, or chanting hymns in the silence of the night, a veil both truly and allegorically must shade their virtues or their fadings. The nuns of the Santa Teresa and of other strict orders, who Uve sparingly, profess the most severe rules, and have no servants or boarders, enjoy a univer sal reputation for virtue and sanctity. They consider the other con vents worldly, and their motto is, " AU or nothing; the world or the cloister." Each abbess adds a stricter rule, a severer penance, than LIFE IN MEXICO. 99 her predecessor, and in this they glory. My friend the Madre frequently says, "Were I to be born again, I should choose, above every lot in life, to be a nun of the Santa Teresa, but of no other convent." .... It is strange how, all the worid over, mankind seem to expect from those who assume religion as a profession a degree of superhuman perfection. Their failings are insisted upon. Every eye is upon them to mark whatsoever may be amiss in their conduct. Their vir tues, their learning, their holy lives — nothing wiU avail them if one blot can be discovered in their character. There must be no moral blemish in the priesthood. In the Catholic religion, where more is professed, stiU more is demanded, and the errors of one padre or one ecclesiastic seem to throw a shade over the whole community to which they belong. LETTER XX. Ath June. Some days ago, having received a message from my. nun that a girl was about to take the veil in her convent, I went there about six o'clock, a#l knowing that the church on these occasions is apt to be crowded to suffocation, I, proceeded to the reja, and speaking to an invisible within, requested to know in what part of the church I could have a place. Upon which a voice replied — "Hermanita (my sister), I am rejoiced to see you. You shaUhave a place beside the godmother." "Many thanks, hermanita! Which way shaU I go ?" , Voice. — " You shaU go through the sacristy. Jos6 Maria!" Jose Maria, a thin, pale, lank individual, with hoUow cheeks, who was standing near, Uke a page in 'waiting, sprang forward — "Madre- cita, I am here!" Voice. — "JosS Maria, that lady, is the Sefiora de C n. You will conduct her exceUency to the front of the grating, and give her a chair." After I had thanked the voice for her kindness in attending to me on a day when she was so much occupied with other affairs, the ob sequious JosS Maria led the way, and I foUowed him through the sacristy into the church, where there were already a few kneeUng figures ; and thence into the railed-off enclosure destined for the re latives of the future nun, where I was permitted to sit down in a comfortable velvet chair. I had been there but a Uttle while when the aforesaid Jose Maria re-appeared, picking his steps as if he were walking upon eggs in a sick room. He brought me a message from. the Madre — — that the nun had arrived, and that the madrecita wished to know if I should like to give her an embrace before the ceremony began. I therefore foUowed my guide back into the sa cristy, where the future nun was seated beside her godmother, in the midst of her friends and relations, about thirty in aU. She was arrayed in pale blue satin, with diamonds, pearls, and a crown of flowers. She was literaUy smothered in blonde and j ewels ; 100 LIFE IN MEXICO. and her face was flushed, as weU it might be, for she had passed the day in taking leave of her friends at a fete they had given her, and had then, according to custom, been paraded through the town in .all her finery. And now her last hour was at hand. When I came in, she rose and embraced me with as much cordiaUty as if we had known each other for years. Beside her sat the madrina, also in white satin and jewels ; aU the relations being likewise decked out in their finest array. The nun kept laughing every now and then in the most unnatural and hysterical manner, as I thought, apparently to impress us with the conviction of her perfect happiness ; for it is a great point of honour among girls simuarly situated, to look as cheer ful and gay as possible ; the same feeUng, though in a different de gree, which induces the gaUant highwayman to jest in the presence of the multitude when the hangman's cord is within an inch of his neck; the same which makes a gaUant general, whose life is for feited, command his men to fire on him ; the same which makes the Hindoo widow mount the funeral pUe without a tear in her eye or a sigh on her Ups. If the robber were to be strangled in a corner of his dungeon ; if the general were to be put to death privately in his own apartment ; if the widow were to be burnt quietly on her own hearth; if the nun were to be secretly smuggled in at the convent gate like a bale of contraband goods ; we might hear another tale. This girl was very young, but by no means pretty ; on the contrary, rather desgradee par la nature; and perhaps a knowledge of her own want of attractions may have caused the world to have few charms for her. But Josi Maria cut short my train of reflections by requesting me to return to my seat before the crowd arrived, which I did forthwith. Shortly after, the church-doors were thrown open, and a crowd burst in, every one struggling to obtain the best seat. Musicians entered, carrying desks and music-books, and placed themselves in two rows, on either side of the enclosure where I was. Then the organ struck up its solemn psalmody, and was foUowed by the gay music of the "band. Rockets were let off outside the church, and at the same time the madrina and all the relations entered and knelt down in front of the grating which looks intothe convent, but before which hung a. dismal black curtain. I left my chair and 'knelt down beside the godmother. Suddenly the curtain was withdrawn, and the picturesque beauty of the scene within baffles' all description. Beside the altar, which was in a blaze of Ught, was a perfect mass of crimson and gold drapery ; the walls, the antique chairs, the table before which the priests sat, all hung with the same splendid material. The bishop wore his su- perb mitre and robes of crimson and gold ; the attendant priests also glittered in crimson and gold embroidery. In contrast to these, five-and-twenty figures, entirely robed in black from head to foot, were ranged on each side of the room, prostrate, their faces touching the ground, and in their hands immense Ughted tapers. On the foreground was spread a purple carpet bordered round with a garland of freshly-gathered flowers — roses, and carnations, and heliotropes, the only things that looked real and living in the whole scene ; and in the middle of this knelt the novice, stiU arrayed in her blue satin, white lace veU and jewels, and also with a great lighted taper in her hand. LIFE IN MEXICO. 101 The black nuns then rose and sang a hymn, every now and, then falling on their faces and touching the floor with their foreheads. The whole looked like an incantation, or a scene in "Robert lc Diable." The novice was then raised from the ground and led to the feet of the bishop, who examined her as to her vocation, and gave her his blessing, and once more the black curtain fell between us and them. In the second act, she was lying prostrate on the floor, disrobed of her profane dress, and covered over with a back cloth, while the black figures kneeling round her chanted a hymn. She was now dead to the world. The sunbeams had faded away, as if they would not look upon the scene, and all the light was concentrated in one great mass upon the convent group. Again she was raised. All the blood had rushed into her face, and her attempt at a smile was truly painful. She then knelt before the bishop and received the benediction, with the sign of the cross, from a white hand with the pastoral ring. She then went round alone to embrace aU the dark phantoms as they stood motionless, and as each dark shadow clasped her in its arms, it seemed Uke the dead welcom ing a new arrival to the shades. But I forgot the sermon, which was delivered by a fat priest, who elbowed his way with some difficulty through the crowd to the grating, panting and in a prodigious heat, and ensconced himself in a great arm-chair close beside us. He assured her that she " had chosen the good part which could not be taken away from her ;" that she was now one of the elect, " chosen from amongst the wickedness and dangers of the world" — (picked out like a plum from a pie). He mentioned with pity and contempt those who were " yet struggUng in the great Babylon;" and compared their miserable fate with hers, the bride of Christ, who, after suffering a few privations here during a short term of years, should be received at once into a kingdom of glory. The whole discourse was weU calculated to raUy her fainting spirits, if fainting they were, and to inspire us with a great disgust for ourselves. When the sermon was concluded, the music again struck up : the heroine of the day came forward, and stood before the grating to take her last look of this wicked world. Down fell the black curtain. Up rose the relations, and I accompanied them into the sacristy. Here they coolly lighted their cigars, and very philosophically dis coursed upon the exceeding good fortune of the new-made nun, and on her evident deUght and satisfaction with her own situation. As. we did not foUow her behind the scenes, I could not give my opinion on this point. . Shortly after, one of the gentlemen civihy led me to my carriage — and so it was. As we were returning home, some soldiers rode up and stopped the carriage, desiring the coachman to take the other side of the aqueduct, to avoid the body of a man who had just been murdered within a. few doors of our house. In the Convent of the Incarnation, I saw another girl sacrificed in a similar manner. She was received there without a dowry, on account of the exceeding fineness of her voice. She little thought. what a fatal gift it would prove to her. The most cruel part of all was, that wishing to display her fine voice to the public, they made her sing a hymn alone, on her -knees, her arms extended in the form, 102 LIFE IN MEXICO. of a cross, before aU the immense crowd, " Andlla Christi sum" (" The Bride of Christ I am.") She was a good-looking girl, fat and comely, who would probably have led a comfortable, life in the world, for which she seemed weU fitted; most likely without one touch of romance or enthusiasm in her composition ; but having the unfortu nate honour of being niece to two chanoincs, she was thus honourably provided for without expense in her nineteenth year. As might be expected, her voice faltered, and instead of singing, she seemed in- cUned to cry out. Each note came slowly, heavily, tremblingly ; and at last she nearly fell forward exhausted, when two of, the sisters caught and supported her. I had almost made up my mind to see no more such scenes, which, unlike pulque and butt-fights, I disUke more and more upon trial, when we received an invitation, which it was not easy to refuse, but was the more painful to accept, being acquainted, though sUghtly, with the victim. I send you the printed note of invitation. On Wednesday, the • of this month, at six o'clock in the evening, my daughter, Dofia Maria de la Concepcion, P e , will assume the habit of a nun of the choir and the black veil in the convent of Our Lady of the Incarnation. I have the honour to inform you of this, entreating you to co-operate with your presence in the solemnity of this act, a favour which will be highly esteemed by your affectionate servant, who kisses your hand. Maria Josefa de . Mexico, June — , 1S40. Having gone out in the carriage ±a pay some visits, I suddenly recollected that it was the very morning of the day on which this young girl was to take the veil, and also that it was necessary to in • quire where I was to be placed ; for, as to entering the church with the crowd on one of these occasions, it is. out of the question, par ticularly when the girl, being, as in the present case, of distinguished family, the ceremony is expected to be peculiarly magnificent. I accordingly called at the house, was shown up-stairs, and to my horror found myself in the midst of a " goodlie companie," in rich array, consisting of the relations of the family, to the number of about a hundred persons ; the bishop himself in his purple robes and amethysts, a number of priests, the father of the young lady in his general's uniform; she herself in purple velvet, with dia monds and pearls, and a crown of flowers ; the corsage of her gown entirely covered with Uttle bows of ribbon of divers colours, which her friends had given her, each adding one, Uke stones thrown on a cairn in memory of the departed. She had also short sleeves and white satin shoes. Being very handsome, with fine black eyes, good teeth, and fresh colour, and, above aU, with the beauty of youth, for she is but eighteen, she was not disfigured even by this overloaded dress. Her mother, on the contrary, who was to act the part of madrina, who wore a dress facsimile, and who was pale and sad, her eyes almost extinguished with weeping, looked Uke a picture of Misery in a baU- dress. In the adjoining room long tables were laid out, on which servants were placing refreshments for the fete about to be given on this joyous occasion. I felt somewhat shocked, and incUned to say with Paul Pry, " Hope I don't intrude." But my apologies were LIFE IN MEXICO. ' 103 instantly cut short, and I was welcomed with true Mexican hospi tality, repeatedly thanked for my kindness in coming to see the nun, and hospitably pressed to join the family feast. I only got off upon a promise of returning at half-past five to accompany them to the ceremony, which, in fact, I greatly preferred to going there alone. I arrived at the hour appointed, and being led up-stairs by the Senator Don — — , found the morning party, with many ad ditions, Ungering over the dessert. There was some gaiety, but evidently forced. It reminded me of a marriage feast previous to the departure of the bride, who is about to be separated from her famUy for the first time. Yet how different in fact this banquet, where the mother and daughter met together for the last time on earth! At stated periods, indeed, the mother may hear her daughter's voice spealiing to her as from the depths of the tomb ; but she may never more fold her in her arms, never more share in her joys or in her sorrows, or nurse her in sickness ; and when her own last hour arrives, though but a few streets divide them, she may not give her dying blessing to the clrild who has been for so many years the pride of her eyes and heart. I have seen no country where families are so knit together as in Mexico, where the affections are so concentrated, or where such devoted respect and obedience are shown by the married sons and daughters to their parents. In that respect they always remain as little children. I know many families of which the married branches continue to 'Uve in their father's house, forming a sort of smaU colony, and Uving in the most perfect harmony. They cannot bear the idea of being separated, and nothing but dire necessity ever forces them to leave their fatherland. To all the accounts which traveUers give them of the pleasures to be met with in European capitals they turn a deaf ear. Their families are in Mexico — their parents, and sisters, and relatives ; and there is no happiness for them elsewhere. The greater, therefore, is the sacrifice which those pa rents make, who from reMgious motives devote their daughters to a conventual Ufe. - — , however, was furious at the whole affair, which he said was entirely against the mother's consent, though that of the father had been obtained ; and pointed out to me the confessor whose influence had brought it about. The girl herself was now very pale, but evidently resolved to conceal her agitation, and the mother seemed as if she could spare no more tears, quite exhausted with weeping. As the hour for the ceremony drew near, the whole party became more grave and sad, aU but the priests, who were smiling and talking together in groups. The girl was not still for a moment. She kept walking hastily through the house, taking leave of the servants, and naming probably her last wishes about everything. She was followed by her younger sisters, aU in tears. But it struck six, and the priests intimated that it was time to move. She and her mother went down stairs alone, and entered the carriage which was to drive them through aU the principal streets, to show the nun to the pubUe according to custom, and to let them take their last look, they of her, and she of them. As they got in, we all crowded to the balconies to see her take leave of her 104 LIFE IN MEXICO. house, her aunts saying, " Yes, child* despidete de tu casa (take leave of your house), for you will never See it again!" Then came sobs from the sisters, and many of the gentlemen, ashamed of their emo tion, hastily quitted the room. I hope, for the sake of humanity, I did not rightly interpret the look of constrained anguish which the poor girl threw from the window of the carriage at the home of her childhood. They drove off, and the relations prepared to walk in procession to the church. I walked with the Count de S o, the others foUowed in pairs. The church was brilliantly illuminated, and as we entered, the band was playing one of Strauss' s waltzes! The crowd was so tremendous that we were nearly squeezed to a jelly in getting to out places. I was carried off my feet between two fat senoras in man- tiUas and shaking diamond pendants, exactly as if I had been packed between two moveable feather-beds. They gave me, however, an exceUent place, quite close to the grating, beside the Countess de S o ; that is to say, » place to kneel on. A great bustle and much preparation seemed to be going on within the convent, and veiled figures were flitting about, whisper ing, arranging, Sec. Sometimes a skinny old dame would come close to the grating, and Ufting up her veil bestow upon the pensive public a generous view of a very haughty and very wrinkled visage of some seventy years' standing, and beckon into the church for the major- domo of the convent (an excellent and profitable situation, by-the- way), or for Padre This or That. Some of the holy ladies recognised me, and Spoke to me through the grating. But at the discharge of fireworks outside the church the curtain was dropped, for this was the signal that the nun and her mother had arrived. An opening was made in the crowd as they passed into the church ; and the girl, kneeling down, was questioned by the bishop, but I could not make out the dialogue, which was carried on in a low voice. She then passed into the convent by a side door, and her mother, quite exhausted and nearly in hysterics, was sup ported through the crowd to a place beside us, in front of the grating. The music struck up ; the curtain was again drawn aside. The scene was as striking here as in the convent of the Santa Teresa, hut not so lugubrious. The nuns,' aU ranged around, and carrying lighted tapers in their hands, were dressed in mantles of bright blue, with a gold plate on the left shoulder. Their faces, however, were covered with deep black veils. The girl, kneeUng in front, and - also bearing a heavy Ughted taper, looked beautiful, with her dark hair and rich dress, and the long black lashes resting on her glowing face. The churchmen near the illuminated and magnificently- decked altar formed, as usual, a briUiant background to the picture. The ceremony was the same as on the former occasion, but there was no sermon. The most terrible thing to witness was the last, straining, anxious look which the mother gave her daughter through the grating. She had seen her' child pressed to the arms of strangers, and welcomed to her new home. She was no longer hers. All the sweet ties of nature had been rudely severed ; and she had been forced to consign her, in the very bloom of youth and beauty, at the very age in which she most required a mother's care, and when she had but just ful- iiUed the promise of her childhood, to a Uving tomb. StiU, as long LIFE IN MEXICO. 105 as the curtain had not fallen, she could gaze upon her as upon one on whom, though dead, the coffin lid is not yet closed. But while the new-made nun was in a blaze of light, and distinct on the foreground, so that we could mark each varying expression of her face, the crowd in the church, and the comparative faintness of the light, probably made it difficult for her to distinguish her mother ; for, knowing that the end was at hand, she looked anxiously and hurriedly into the church, without seeming able to fix her eyes on any particular object; while her mother seemed as if her eyes were glazed, so intently were they fixed upon her daughter. Suddenly, and without any preparation, down fell the black cur tain like a pall, and the sobs and tears of the family broke forth. One beautifidlittle child was carried out almost in fits. Water was "brought to the poor' mother;- and at last, making our way with dif ficulty through the dense crowd, we got into the sacristy. "I de clare," said the Countess to_me, wiping her eyes, "it is worse than a marriage!" I expressed my horror at the sacrifice of a girl so young that she could not . possibly have known her own mind. Almost all the ladies agreed with me, especially all who had daugh ters ; but many of the old gentlemen were of a different opinion. The young men were decidedly of my way of thinking ; but many young girls, who were , conversing together, seemed rather to envy their friend, who had looked so pretty and graceful, and "so happy," and whose dress "suited her so well," and to have no objection to "go and do likewise." I had the honour of a presentation to the bishop, a fat and portly prelate, with good manners, and well besuiting his priestly garments. . I amused myself, while we waited for the carriages, by looking ,oyer .a pamphlet which lay on the table, containing the ceremonial of thp , veil- taking. When we rose to go, all the ladies, of the highest rank devoutly kissed the bishop's hand; and I went home, thinking by what law of God a child can thus be dragged from. the mother; who bore and bred her,, and immured! in a cloister for life, amongst strangers, to whom she has no tie, and towards whom she owes no duty. That a convent may be a blessed shelter from the. calamities of life, a haven for the unprotected, a resting-place for the weary, a safe and holy asylum, where a new family and kind friends await those whose natural ties are broken and whose early friends are gone, I am witting to admit ; butit'is not in the flower of youth that the warm heart should be consigned to the cold cloister. Let the young- take, their chance of sunshine or of storm,: the calm. and shady re treat is for helpless and unprotected old age. 106 XIFE IN MEXICO. LETTER XXI. 15th June. Since my last letter we have been at San Agustin de las Cuevas, which, when I last saw it, was a deserted village, but which, during three days in the year, presents the appearance of a vast bee-hive or ant-hiU. San Agustin ! At that name how many hearts throb with emotion! How many hands are mechanically thrust into empty pockets! Mow many visions of long- vanished golden ounces flit ¦before aching eyes ! What faint crowing of wounded cocks ! What tinkling of guitars and blowing of horns come upon the ear! Some, indeed, there be, who can look round upon their well-Stored haci endas and easy-roUing carriages, and remember the day when, with threadbare coat and stake of three modest ounces, they first courted Fortune's favours, and who, being then indigent, and enjoying an indifferent reputation, found themselves, at the conclusion of a few successive San Agustins, the fortunate proprietors of gold, and land, and houses, and, moreover, with an unimpeachable fame; for he who can fling gold dust in his neighbour's eyes prevents him from seeing too clearly. But these favourites of the blind goddess are few and far between ; and they have, for the most part, with a view to greater security, become holders or sharers of banks at San Agustin, thus investing their fortune in a secure fund; more so, decidedly, if we may believe the newspaper reports, than in the Bank of the United States at this present writing. Time, in its revolutions whirling all things out of their places, has made no change in the annual fete of San Agustin. Fashions alter. The graceful mantilla graduaUy gives place to the ungraceful bonnet. The old painted coach, moving slowly like a caravan, with Guido's Aurora painted on its gaudy panels, is dismissed for the London- built carriage. Old customs have passed away. The ladies no longer sit on the door-cills, eating roast duck with their fingers or with the aid of tortiUas. Even the chinampas have become stationary, and have occasionaUy joined the continent. But the annual fete of San Agustin is built on a more soUd foundation than taste, or custom, or floating soil. It is founded upon that love of gambUng which is said to be a passion inherent in our nature, and which is certainly im pregnated with the Mexican constitution, in man, woman, and child. The beggars gamble at the corners of the streets or under the arches ; the little boys gamble in groups in the viUages ; the coachmen and footmen gamble at the doors of the theatre while waiting for their masters. , But while their hand is thus kept in all the year round, there are three days sacredly set apart annually, in which every accommoda tion is given to those who are bent upon ruining themselves or their LIFE IN MEXICO. 107 neighbours ; whilst every zest that society can afford is held out to render the temptation more alluring. As religion is called in to sanctify everything, right or wrong ; as the robber wiU plant a cross at the mouth of his. cave, and the pulque-shops do occasionally caU themselves "pulquerias of the Most Holy Virgin;" so this , season of gambUng is fixed for the fete of Pascua (Whitsunday),' and the churches and the gambling-houses are thrown open simultaneously. The high road leading from Mexico to San Agustin is covered with vehicles of every description: carriages, diligences, hackney- coaches, carts, and carratelas. Those who are not fortunate enough to possess any wheeled conveyance come out on horse, ass, or mule ; single, double, or treble, if necessary; and many hundreds, with visions of silver before their eyes, and a few clacds (pence) hid under their rags, trudge out on foot. , The president himself, in carriage- and-six, and attended by his aides-de-camp, sanctions by bis pre sence the amusements of the fete. The Mexican generals and other officers foUow in his wake; and the gratifying spectacle may not unfrequently be seen, of the president leaning from his box in the plaza de galhs, and betting upon a cock with a coatless; bootless, hat- less, and probably worthless ragamuffin in the pit. Every one, therefore, however humble his degree, has the pleasure, while follow ing his speculative inclinations, of reflecting, that he treads in the steps of the magnates of the land ; and, as Sam WeUer would say, " Vat a consolation that must be to his feeUngs!" At aU events, nothing can be gayer than the appearance of the vUlage, as your carriage makes its way through the narrow lanes into the principal plaza, amidst the assembled crowd of coaches and foot- passengers; though the faces of the people bear evidence that plea sure alone has not brought them to San Agustin. AU round the square are the gambUng-houses, where for three nights and three days every table is occupied. At the principal monies nothing is played for but gold ; but as there is accommodation for all classes, so there are silver tables in the inferior houses, while outside are rows of tables on which are heaps of copper, covered with a rugged awning, and surrounded by Uperos and blanketed Indians, playing monti in imitation of their betters, though on a scale more suited to their finances. It is singular that, while San Agustin is situated in the midst of the most fertile and productive country, there should Ue Opposite to it, and bounded as it were by the graceful Peruvian trees and silver poplars which surround a smaU church on the other side of the high road, a great, tract of black lava, sterile, bleak, and entirely destitute of vegetation., called the. Pedregal. This covers the country all along to San Agustin and to the base of the mountain of Ajusco, which Ues behind it, contrasting strangely with the beautiful groves and gar dens in its neighbourhood, and looking as if it had been cursed for some crime committed. there. The high-road, which runs nearly in a direct line from the hacienda to San Agustin, is broad and in tole rable repair; but before arriving there, it is so little attended to, that during the rainy season it might be passed in canoes ; yet this immense formation of ferruginous lava and porphyritic rock lies con veniently in its vicinity. A large sum, supposed to be employed in mending the road, is collected annually at the toll close to San Antonio. For each carriage two doUars are asked-, and for carts and 108 LIFE IN MEXICO. animals in proportion. The proprietor of this toll or postazgo is also the owner of the plaza de gallos, where a doUar is paid for entry, the sums produced by which go exclusively to enrich the same individual. The government has no advantage from it. . . . The last day of the fete is considered the best, and It is most crowded on that day, both by famihes from Mexico and by foreigners who go solely for pleasure, though not unfrequently tempted to do- a little business on their own account. In fact, the temptations are great, and it mustbe difficult for a young man to withstand them. . We went to the gallos about three o'clock. The plaza was crowded, and the ladies in their boxes looked like a parterre of different- coloured flowers. But whilst the seiioras in their boxes did honour to the fete by their brilliant toilet, the gentlemen promenaded round the circle in jackets, high and low being, on the same curtailed footing, and certainly in a style of dress more befitting the exhibition. The president and his suite were already there, also several of the foreiga ministers. Mean whUe, the cocks crowed valiantly, bets were adjusted, and even the women entered into the spirit of the scene, taking bets with the gentlemen sotto voce in their boxes, upon such and such favourite animal. As a smaU knife is fastened to the leg of each cock, the battle seldom lasted long, one or other falling every few minutes in a pool of blood. Then there was a clapping of hands, mingled with the loud crowing of some unfortunate cock,, who was giving himself airs previous to a combat where he was probably destined to crow his last. It has a curious effect to European eyes to see young ladies of good family, looking peculiarly feminine and gentle, sanctioning by their presence this savage diversion. It is no doubt the effect of early habit, and you will say that at least it is no worse than a bull-fight, which is certain ; yet, cruel as the latter is, I find something more en grande, more noble, in the Ungentle sport that oft invites The Spanish maid, and cheers the Spanish swain; in the roaring of the " lord of lowing herds," the galloping of the fine horses, the skiU of the riders, the gay dresses, the music, and the agile matador — in short, in the whole pomp and circumstance of the combat — than when one looks quietly on to see two birds peck each other's eyes out, and cut each other to pieces. Unlike cockpits in other countries, attended by blacklegs, and pickpockets, and gentle manly roues, by far the largest portion of the assembly in the pit was composed of the first young men in Mexico, and, for that matter, of the first old ones also. There was neither confusion, nor noise, nor even loud talking, far less swearing, amongst the lowest of those as sembled in the ring ; and it is this quiet and orderly behaviour which throws over all these incongruities a cloak of decency and decorum, that hides their impropriety so completely, that even foreigners who- have Uved here a few years, and who were at first struck with asto nishment by these things, aie now quite reconciled to them. As far as the company went, it might have been the house of representatives in Washington ; the ladies in the gallery listening to the debates, and the members in the body of the house surrounding Messrs. and , or any other two vehement orators ; applaud- LIFE IN MEXICO. 109 ing their biting remarks and cutting sarcasms, and encouraging them to crow over each other. The president might have been the speaker, and the corps diplomatique represented itself. We had an agreeable dinner at the E s', and afterwards ac companied them to the Calvario, a hill where there was a ball al fresco, which was rather amusing ; and then paid a visit to the family of General Moran, who has a beautiful house and gardens in the neighbourhood. We found a large party assembled, and amongst them the president. Afterwards, accompanied by the minister and the ladies of our party, we went to take a view of the gambling- tables; and opened our eyes at the heaps of gold, which changed owners every minute. I saw C a, a millionaire, win and lose a thousand ounces, apparently with equal indifference. A little advo cate, having won two thousand five hundred ounces, wisely ordered his carriage and set off for Mexico, with the best/ce he had ever received in his life. Ladies do not generaUy look on at the tables, but may if they please, and especiaUy if they be strangers. Each gambUng-room was weU fitted up, and looked like a private apart ment. . We then returned home and dressed for the ball, which is given in the evening in the plaza de gallos. We first went up stairs to a box, but I afterwards took the advice of M. de , and came down to see the dancers. There were ladies in full dress, and gentlemen in white jackets: rather inconsistent. The company, though perfectly quiet and well-behaved, were not very select, and were, on that account, particularly amusing. Madame de and I walked about, and certainly laughed much more than we should have done in more distinguished society. LETTER XXH. 17th June. Being invited yesterday to a fete at San Antonio, we left Mexico about eight o'clock by the great causeway leading to San Agustin. The day was peculiarly brilliant, but the rainy season is now announc ing its approach by frequent showers towards evening. We found a large party assembled, and abouttwelve o'clock some sixty persons sat down to a most magnificent breakfast. Everything was solid silver, even the plates. A vast capital is sunk in diamonds and plate in this' country: no good sign of the state of commerce. The ladies in general were dressed in white embroidered musUns, over white or coloured satin, and one or two Paris dresses shone conspi cuous. There was one specimen of real Mexican beauty : the Sefiora , a face perhaps more Indian than Spanish, very dark, with fine eyes, beautiful teeth, very long dark hair, and full of expression. The house, which is immensely large, is furnished, or rather unfur nished, in the style of all Mexican haciendas. After breakfast, we had music, dancing, walking, and bilUard-playing. Some boleros were very gracefully danced by-a daughter of the marquesa's, and 110 LIFE IN MEXICO. they also showed us some dances of the country. The fete' terminated with the most beautiful supper I almost ever saw. A great haU was Ughted with coloured lamps ; the waUs were covered with green Branches, and hung with fresh garlands of flowers most tastefully arranged. There was a great deal of gaiety and cordiality, of mag nificence without ceremony, and riches without pretension. 18th. — Day of the Corpus Christi, in which the host is carried through the city in great procession, at which the president in fuU uniform, the archbishop, and aU the ministers, &c. assist. In former days this ceremony took place on Holy Thursday ; but finding that, on account of the various ceremonies of the Holy Week, it could not be kept with due solemnity, another day was set apart for its cele bration. We went to a window in the square, to see the procession, which was very brilliant ; aU the troops out, and the streets crowded, Certainly, a stranger entering Mexico on one of these days would be struck with surprise at its apparent wealth. Everything connected with the church is magnificent. This evening the Senora A came after it was dark, in a Poblana dress, which she had just bought to wear at a Jamaica, which they are going to have in the country : a sort of fair, where aU the girls disguise themselves in peasants' dresses, and go about seUing fruit, lemonade, vegetables, &c. to each other: a very ancient Mexican amusement. This dress cost her some hundred doUars. The top of the petticoat is yeUow satin ; the rest, which is of scarlet cashmere, is embroidered in gold and silver. Her hair was fastened back with a thick silver comb, and her ornaments were very handsome — coral set in gold; her shoes white satin, embroidered in gold; the sleeves and body of the chemise, which is of the finest cambric, trimmed with rich lace; and She petticoat, which comes below the dress, shows two flounces of Valenciennes. She looks beautiful in this dress, which wiU not be objected to in the country, though it might not suit a fancy baU in Mexico. June 27th. — I was awakened this morning by hearing that two boxes had arrived from New York, containing books, letters, &c. ; all very acceptable. We also received a number of old newspapers by post, for which we had to pay eighteen doUars ! Each sheet costs a real and a-half : a mistaken source of profit in a repubUc, where the general diffusion of knowledge is of so much importance; for this not only appUes to the introduction of French and English, but also of Spanish newspapers. Sefiors Gutierrez Estrada and Canedo used eveiy effort to reduce this duty on newspapers, but in vain. The post-office opposes its reduction, fearing to be deprived of an ima ginary rent — imaginary, because so few persons, comparatively, think it worth their while to go to this expense. There is but one daily newspaper in Mexico, "La Gazeta del Gobierno" (the government paper), and it is fitted with orders and decrees. An opposition paper, the " Cosmopottta," is published twice a-week; also a Spanish paper, the "Hesperia :" both (especiaUy the last) are weU written. There is also the "Mosquito," so called from its stinging sarcasms. Now and then another with a new title appears, Uke a shooting star ; but; from want of support, or from some otheT motive, is suddenly extinguished. Enlightened individuals Uke Don Lucas Alaman and Count Cor tina have pubhshed newspapers, but not for any length of time. LIFE IN MEXICO. Ill Count Cortina, especially, edited a very witty and brittiant paper called the "Zurriago" (the "Scourge"), and another caUed the "Mono" (the "Ape"); and in many of his articles he was tolerably severe upon the incorrect Spanish of his brother editors, of which no one can be a better judge, he having been a member of the " Acade- , mia de la Lengua," in Spain. The only kind of monthly review in Mexico is the "Mosaico Me- gicano," whose editor has made his fortune by his own activity and exertions. Frequently it contains more translations than original matter ; but from time to time it publishes scientific articles, said to he written by Don J. M. Bustamente, which are very valuable, and occasionaUy a brilliant article from the pen of Count Cortina. Gene ral Qrbegoso, who is of Spanish origin, is also a contributor. Some times^ though rarely, it publishes "documentos ineditos" (unedited documents), connected with Mexican antiquities, and Mexican na tural history and biography, which are very important; and now and then it contains a little poetical gem, I know not whether ori ginal or not, but exceedingly beautiful. So far as it goes, this review is one great means of spreading knowledge, at least amongst the better classes; but I understand that the editor, Don Ygnacio Cum- plido, a very courteous, intelUgent man, complains that it does not pay. There are no circulating Ubraries in Mexico. Books are at least double the price that they are in Europe. There is no diffusion of useful knowledge amongst the people ; neither cheap pamphlets nor cheap magazines written for their amusement or instruction; but this is less owing to want of attention to their interests on the part of many good and enlightened men, than -to the unsettled state of the country; for the blight of civil war prevents the best systems from ripening. Fortunately, there is an EngUsh society here, a kind of book-club, who, with their minister, have united in a subscription to order from England aU the new pubUcations; and as C n is a member of this society, we are not so arriirris in regard to the Uterature of the day as might be supposed. Like all EngUsh societies, its basis is a good dinner, which each member gives in turn, once a month, after which there is a sale of the books that have been read, and proposi tions for new books are given in to the president. It is an exceUent plan, and I beUeve is in part adopted by other foreigners here. But Germans of a certain class do not seem to be sufficiently numerous for such an undertaking ; and the French in Mexico, barring some distinguished exceptions, are apt to be amongst the very worst spe cimens of that people which "le plaisant pays de France" can furnish forth, We went lately to a baU given by a young EngUshman, which was very pretty, and where nearly aU the EngUsh were collected. Of famiUes there are not more than half-a-dozen resident here, the members of whom form a striking contrast in complexion to the Mexicanas. With very few exceptions (and these in the case of Englishwomen married to foreigners) they keep themselves entirely aloof from the Mexicans, live quietly in tfheir own houses, into which they have transplanted as much -EngUsh comfort as possible, rarely travel, and naturaUy find Mexico the duUest of cities. C n has gone to dine with the English minister, and I am left alone in this 112 LIFE IN MEXICO. large room, with nothing but a humming-bird to keep me company ; the last of my half-dozen. It looks like a large blue fly, and is per fectly tame, but wiU not Uvemany days. I was startled by a solemn voice, saying, " Av»Maria Purisima !" and looking up there stood in the doorway a " friar of orders gray," bringing some message to C n from the head of the convent of San Fernando, with which monks C n has formed a great inti macy, chiefly in consequence of the interest which he has taken in the history of their missions to California. In fact, when we hear the universal cry that is raised against these communities for the inutility of their lives, it is but just that excep tions should be made in favour of those orders, who, Uke the monks of San Fernando, have dispersed their missionaries over some of the most miserable parts of the globe, arid who, undeterred by danger and by the prospect of death, have carried Ught to the most ben^hted savages. These institutions are of a very remote date. A learned Jesuit monk, Eusebio Kuhn, is said to have been the first who dis covered that California was a peninsula. In 1683 the Jesuits had formed establishments in Old CaUfornia ; and for the first time it was made known that the country which had until then been con sidered an El Dorado, rich in aU precious metals and diamonds, was arid, stony, and without water or earth fit for vegetation; that where there was a spring of water it was to be found amongst the bare rocks, and where there was earth there was no water. A few spots were found by these industrious men uniting these advantages , and there they founded their first missions. But the general hatred with which the Jesuits were regarded excited suspicion against them, and it was generaUy supposed that their accounts were false, and that they were privately becoming possessed of much treasure. A visitador (surveyor) was sent to exa mine into the truth ; and though he could discover no traces of gold or silver, he was astonished by the industry and zeal with which they had cultivated the barren and treeless waste. In a few years they had built sixteen viUages, and when they were expeUed in 1767, the Dominican friars of Mexico took their place LETTER XXHI. oth July. Yesterday: morning we had a visit from the president, with two of his officers. He was riding one of "the handsomest black horses I ever saw. On going out we stopped to look at a, wax figure of Yturbide on horseback, which he considers a good resemblance, and which was sent me as a present some time ago. He ought to be a good judge, as he was a most devoted friend of the unfortunate Agustin I. ; who, whatever were his faults, seems to have inspired his friends with the most devoted and enthusiastic attachment. In the prime of life, brave and active, handsome and fond of show, he had aU the quaUties which render a chief popular with the multitude ; LIFE IN MEXICO. 113 "but popularity, when not based upon great benefits, is transient; it is founded upon a principle of egotism, because a whole peopl. cannot have personal sympathies." Ambition led him to desert the royal cause, which he had served for nine years ; and vanity blinded, him to the dangers that surrounded him in the midst of his triumphs, even when proclaimed emperor by the united voice of the garrison and city of Mexico ; when his horses were taken from his carriage, and when, amidst the shouts of the multitude, his coach was dragged in triumph to the palace. His great error, according to' those who talk of him impartially, was indecision in the most critical emergencies, and his permitting himself to be governed by circumstances, instead of directing those circumstances as they oc curred. I could not help thinking, as the general stood there looking at the waxen image of his friend, what a stormy life he himself has passed; how little real tranquillity he can ever have enjoyed; and wondering whether.'he will be permitted to finish his presidential days in peace, which, according to rumour, is doubtful. 8th. — I had the honour of a long visit this morning from his grace the archbishop. He came about eleven o'clock, after mass, and remained tiU dinner-time, sitting out all our Sunday visitors, who are generally numerous, as it is the only day of rest for employes, and especiaUy for the cabinet. Were I to choose a situation here, it would undoubtedly be that of Archbishop of Mexico, the most enviable in the world to those who would enjoy a Ufe of tranquillity, ease, and universal adoration. He is a pope, without the trouble, or a tenth part of the responsibility. He is venerated more than the Holy Father is in enUghtened Rome, and, like kings in the good old times, can do no wrong. His salary amounts to about one hundred thousand doUars, and a revenue might be made by the sweetmeats alone, which are sent him from aU the nuns in the repubUc. His palace in town, his well-cushioned carriage, well-conditioned horses, and sleek mules, seem the very perfection of comfort. In fact, comfort, which is unknown amongst the profane of Mexico, ' has taken refuge with the archbishop ; and though many drops of it are shed on the shaven heads of all bishops, curates, confessors, and friars, stiU in his illustrious person it con centrates as in a focus. He himself is a benevolent, good-hearted, good-natured, portly, and jovial personage, with the most laissez-aUer air and expression conceivable. He looks Uke one on whom the good things of this world have fatten in a constant and benignant shower, which shower hath faUen on a rich and fertile sod. He is generally to be seen leaning back in his carriage, dressed in purple, with amethyst cross,. and giving his benediction to the people as he passes. He seems engaged in a pleasant reverie, and his counte nance wears an air of the most placid and insouciant content. He enjoys a good dinner, good wine, and ladies' society, but just suffi ciently to make his leisure hours pass pleasantly, without indigestion from the first, headaches from the second, or heartaches from the third. So does his Ufe seem to pass on Uke a deep, untroubled stream, on whose margin grow sweet flowers, on whose clear waters the bending trees are reflected, but on whose placid face no lasting im pression is made. ' I have no doubt that his charities are in proportion to his large H 114 LIFE IN MEXIC0.- fortune;- and when. I say that I have no doubt of this, it is because I firmly beUeve there exists, no country in, the world where charities, both pubUe and private, are practised- on so noble a scale, especiaUy by the women, under the direction of the priests. I am incUned to beUeve that,. generally speaking; charity is^a. distinguishing, attribute of a cathoUc country. I send you, by the Mexican commissioners, who are kind enough to take charge: of a box for me, the figure of a Mexican tortillera,. by which you may judge a little of the perfection in which the com monest kph-o here works in wax. The incredible patienee which enabled! the ancient Mexicans to work their statues in wood- or stone with the rudest instruments'has deseendedito their posterity, as weU as their extraordinaiy and truly Chinese talent for imitation. With a, common knife and a piece of hard wood, an uneducated man wiU produce a fine piece of sculpture. There is- no imagination. They do not leave the beaten track, but continue on the models which the. Spanish conquerors brought, out with them, some of which, how ever, were very beautiful In was, especially, their figures have been brought to great per fection. Everything that surrounds them they can. imitate, and their wax portraits are sometimes- little gems of art; but in this:last branch, which belongs? to aJrigher order of'.art, there are no good workmen at present. Apropos: to this, a poor artist brought some tolerable: wax portraits here for sale the. other day, and, amongst- others, that of a celebrated general;. C n remarked that it was fairer than, the original as farasuhe recollected. "Ah!" said the man, " but when his excel lency washes his face, nothing. can be more exact" A valuable pre sent, was sent, lately by a. gentleman here to the Count de , in Spain; twelve cases, each case containing, twelve wax figures; each figure,. representing, some Mexican trade, or profession, or employ ment., There were-, men drawktgthe pulque from the maguey, Indian women, selhng vegetables; tortilkras, vendors of ducks, fruitmen, lard-seUers; the postman of Guachinango, loaded with parrots, monkeys, &lc— more of everything, than of letters — the: Poblana peasant, the rancherita on horseback before her farm-servant, the gaily-dressed ranchera:. in short,. a Uttle history of Mexico in wax.. You' ask, me how Mexican women are educated. In answering you, I must pufrraside aLfew, brilliant exceptions, and speak en masse,, the most difficult thing:in the world, for these exceptions are always rising up before me like accusing; angels, and I begin to think of indivoduais when- 1 should keep to generalities. GeneraEyspealting,. then,-, the Mexican:senoras and sefioritas write, read, and. play a,Uttle, sew, and! take care of their houses and children. When I say they read, I mean they know how to read ; when I say they write, I do not mean that they can always speU ; and when I say they play, L do not assert, that they have generaUy a knowledge of music. If we compare their education with that of girls in England, or in the United. States, it-is- not a comparison, but a. contrast. Compare it with that, of Spanish women, and we shaU be less severe upon their far niente descendants. In the first place, the cUmate inclines every one to indolence, both physicatty and morally. One cannot pore over a book when the blue sky is constantly smiling in at the open windows; then out of-doors, after ten o'clock, the sun gives us due LIFE IN MEXICO. 115 warning of our tropical latitude, arid even though the breeze is so fresh and pleasant, one has no inclination to walk or ride far. Whatever be the cause, I am convinced that it is impossible to take the same exercise with the .mind or with the body in this country as in Europe or the northern states. Then, as to schools, there are none that can deserve the name, and no governesses. Young girls can have no emulation, for they never meet. They have no public diversion, and no private amusement. There are a few good foreign masters, most of whom have come to Mexico for the purpose* of making their fortunes by teaching, or marriage, or both, and whose object, naturaEy, is to make the most money in the shortest possible time, that they may return home and enjoy it. They generally ap pear to have an extraordinary disposition for music and drawing, yet there are few girls who are proficients in either. When very young, they occasionahy attend the schools, where boys and girls learn to read in common, or any other accdmpUsh ment that the old women can teach them ; but at twelve they are already considered too old to attend these promiscuous assemblages, and masters are got for drawing and music to finish their, educa tion. I asked a lady the other day if her daughter went to school. "Good heavens!" exclaimed she, quite shocked, "she is past eleven years old !" It frequently happens that the least weU-informed girls are the children Of the cleverest men, who, keeping to the customs of their forefathers, are content if they confess regularly,' attend church constantly, and can embroider and sing a Uttle. Where there are more extended ideas, it is chiefly amongst families who have travelled in Europe, and have seen the different education of women in foreign countries. Of these, the fathers occasionally de vote a short portion of their time to the instruction of their daughters, perhaps during their leisure evening moments, but it may easily be supposed that this desultory system has Uttle real influence on the minds of the children. I do not think there are above half-a-dozen married women, or as many girls above fourteen, who, with the ex ception of the mass-book, read any one book through in the whole course of the year. They thus greatly simpUfy the system of edu cation in the "United States, where parties are frequently divided between the advocates for solid learning and those for superficial aceompUshments, and according to whom it is difficult to amalga mate the solid beef of science with the sweet sauce of Us beaux arts. But if a Mexican girl is ignorant, she rarely shows it. They have - generaUy the greatest possible tact ; never by any chance wandering out of their depth, or betraying by word or sign that they are not well-informed on the subject under discussion. "Though seldom' .graceful, they are never awkward, and always self-possessed. They have plenty of natural talent, and where it has been thoroughly cultivated, no women can surpass them. Of what is called literary society,. there is of course none — No bustling Botherbys have they to show 'em That " charming passage in the last new poem." There are in Mexico a few famines of the old school, people. of high rank, but who mingle very little in society ; who are Uttle known to the generaUty offoreigners, and who keep their daughters 116 LIFE IN MEXICO. entirely at home, that they may not be contaminated by bad ex ample. These select few, rich without any ostentation, are certainly doing everything that is in their power to remedy the evils occa sioned by the want of proper schools, or of competent instructresses for their daughters. Being nearly all aUied by birth, or connected by marriage, they form a sort of clan; and it is sufficient to belong to one or other of these families to be hospitably received by all. They meet together frequently, without ceremony, and whatever elements of. good exist in Mexico are to be found amongst them. The fathers are generaUy men of talent and learning, and the mothers, women of the highest respectabiUty, to whose name no suspicion can be attached. But, indeed, it is long before a stranger even suspects the state of morals in this country ; for, whatever be the private conduct of in dividuals, the most perfect decorum prevails in outward behaviour. But Indolence is the mother of Vice, and not only of Uttle children might Doctor Watts have asserted that Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. They are, besides, extremely kal to each other, and, with proper esprit de corps, rarely gossip to strangers concerning the errors of their neighbours' ways ; indeed, if such a thing is hinted at, deny aU knowledge of the fact. So long as outward decency is preserved, habit has rendered them tolerably indifferent as to the liaisons sub sisting amongst their particular friends ; and as long as a woman attends church regularly, is a patroness of charitable institutions, and gives ho scandal by her outward behaviour, she may do pretty much as she pleases. As for flirtations in pubUe, they are unknown. I must, however, confess that this indulgence on the part of women of unimpeachable reputation is sometimes carried too far. We went lately to a breakfast, at which was a young and beautiful countess, lately married, and of very low birth. She looked very splendid, with all the diamonds, and a dress of rose-coloured satin. ' After breakfast wc adjourned to another room, where I ad mired the beauty of a little child who was playing about on the floor, when this lady said, "Yes, she, is very pretty; very like my little girl, who is just the same age." I was rather surprised, but concluded she had been a widow, and made the inquiry of an old French lady who was sitting near me. "Oh, no!" said she; "she was never married before: she alludes to the children she had before the count became acquainted with her!"' And yet the Sefiora de , the strictest woman in Mexico, was loading her with attentions and caresses ! I must say, however, that this was a singular instance. . . . There are no women more affectionate in their manners than those of Mexico. In fact, a foreigner, especiaUy if he be an English man, and a, shy man, and accustomed to the coldness of his fair countrywomen, need only live a few years here, and understand the language, and become accustomed to the pecuUar style of beauty, to find the Mexican sefioritas perfectly irresistible. LIFE IN MEXICO. 117 LETTER XXIV. 15(A July. Revolution in Mexico! or pronundamiento, as they call it. The storm which has for some time been brewing has burst forth at last. Don Valentin Gomez Farias and the banished General Urrea have pronounced for federaUsm. At two this morning, joined by the fifth battaUon and the regiment of comerdo, they took up arms, set off for the palace, surprised the president in his bed, and took him prisoner. Our first information was a message, arriving on the part of the government, desiring the attendance of our two old soldiers, who put on their old uniforms, and set off quite pleased. Next came our friend Don M del C o, who advised us to haul out the Spanish colours, that they might be in readiness to fly on the balcony, in case of necessity. Little by little, more Spaniards arrived with different reports as to the state of things. Some say that it wiU aU end in a few hours ; others, that it will be a long and bloody contest. Some are assured that it wiU merely terminate in a change of ministry; others, that Santa Anna wiU come on directly and usurp the presidency. At aU events, General Valencia, at the head of the government troops, is about to attack the pronundados, who are in possession of the palace. . . . The firing has begun! People come running up the street. The Indians are hurrying back to their viUages in double-quick trot. As we are not in the centre of the city, our position for the present is very safe, all the cannon being directed towards the palace. AU the streets near the square are planted with cannon, and it is pretended that the revolutionary party are giving arms to the leperos. The cannon are roaring now. All along the street people are standing on the balconies, looking anxiously in the direction of the palace, or coUected in groups before the doors, and the azoteas which are out of the line of fire are covered with men. They are ringing the tocsin : things seem to be getting serious. 9 o'clock, f.it — Continuation of firing without interruption. I have spent the day standing on the balcony, looking at the smoke, and listening to the different rumours. Gomez Farias has been proclaimed president by his party. The streets near the square are said to be strewed with dead and wounded. There was a terrible thunder-storm this afternoon. Mingled with the roaring of the cannon, it sounded Uke a strife between heavenly and earthly artillery. We shaU not pass a very easy night, especially without our soldiers. Unfortunately there is a bright moon, so night brings ao interruption to the firing and slaughter. ilSth — Our first news was brought very early this morning by the wife of one of our soldiers, who came in great despair, to tell us that 118 LIFE IK MEXICO. both her husband and his comrade are shot, though not kiUed ; that they were amongst the first who feU; and she came to entreat C n to prevent their being sent to the hospital It is reported that Bustamente has escaped, and that he fought his way, sword in hand, through the soldiers who guarded him in his apartment. Almonte, at all events, is at the head of his troops. The baUs have entered many houses in the square. It must be terribly dangerous for those who Uve there, and, amongst others, for our friend Sefior Tagle, Director of the Monte Pio, and his family. 17th. — The state of things is very bad. Cannon planted aU along the streets, and soldiers firing indiscriminately on aU who pass. Count C: a sUghtly wounded, and carried to his country-house at Tacubaya. Two Spaniards have escaped from their house, into which the balls were pouring, and have taken refuge here. The E ¦ family have kept their house, which is in the very centre of the affray, cannons planted before their door, and all their windows already smashed. Indeed, nearly all the houses in, that quarter are abandoned. We are Uving here Uke prisoners in a fortress. The Countess del V e, whose father was shot in a former revolution, had just risen this morning, when a sheU entered, the waU close by the side of her bed, and burst in the mattress. 18th. — There is a great scarcity of provisions in the centre of the city, as the Indians, who bring in everything from the country, are stopped. We have laid in a good stock of comestibles, though it is very unlikely that any difficulties will occur in our direction. While I am writing, the cannon are roaring almost without interruption, and the sound is anything but agreeable, though proving the respect entertained by Farias for " the Uves, properties, and interests of all" We see the smoke, but are entirely out of the reach of the fire. I had just written these words, when the Senora , who Uves opposite, called out to me that a sheU has just faUen in her garden, and that her husband had but time to save himself The cannon directed against the palace kiU people in their* beds, in- streets entirely out of that direction, while this ball, intended for the citadel, takes its flight to San Cosine ! Both parties seem to be fighting the city in stead of each other ; and this manner of firing, from behind parapets, and from the tops of houses and steeples, is decidedly safer for the soldiers than the inhabitants. It seems also a novel plan to keep up a continual cannonading by night, and to rest during a great part of the day. One would think that were the guns brought nearer the palace, the affair would be sooner over. Late last night, » whole family came here for -protection:, the Sefiora , with , nurse and baby, &c. She had remained very quietly in her own house, in spite of broken windows, tiU the bullets whizzed past her baby's bed. This morning, everything re mains as it was the first day : the president in the citadel, the rebels in the palace. The government are trying to hold out until- troops arrive from Puebla. In an interval of firing, the -secretary con trived to make his way here this morning. The EngUsh- minister's house is also filled with families,- it being a little out of the line of fire. Those who live in the Square, and in. the Calle San Francisco, are most exposed, and the poor shopkeepers in the Parian are in a state of great and natural trepidation. 1 need not say that the -shops are aU shut. .LIFE IN MEXICO. 119 19th. — Dr. Plan, a famous French physician, was shot this morn ing, as he was coming out of the palace, and Iris body has just -been carried past our door into the house opposite. The Sefiorita havingimprudently stepped out on her balcony, t her Ihouse being in a very exposed street, a pistol -bah .entered her side, and passed through her'body. She is-stiU.aUve, but it seems impossible that she can recover. The Prior df San Joaquin, iriding byjust-noWf-stopped below the-windows to teU ,us that hefears we shaU not remain long here in safety, as the pronundados have .attacked the. Convent of La Concepcion, at the end of the street. , -My writing must be very desultory. Impossible to fix one's at tention on anything. We pass our time on the balconies, 'listening to the thunder of the cannon, looking at the .different parties, of troops riding by, receiving visitors, who in the intervals of the -firing venture out to bring us the last reports — wondering, speculating, bearing, hoping, and excessively '.tired of the whole affair. Gomez Farias, the prime mover of this revolution, is a distinguished. character, one of the notabilities of the country, and has always maintained the same principles, standing upfor " rapidand radical reform." He is a native of Guadalajara, and his literary caTeeris said to have been brilliant. He is also said to be a man of an ardent imagination and .great energy. His name has appeared In every pubhc event. He first -aided in the cause -of independence; then, when deputy for Zacatecas, showed much zeal in favour of Yturbide ; was afterwards a warm partisan of the federal cause, contributed to the election of .General Victoria ; afterwards to that of Pedraza; took an active part in the political changes Of '33 and '34; deteststhe Spaniards, and during his presidency endeavoured :to aboUsh the privileges of the clergy .and troops,. suppressed monastic institutions, granted absolute liberty of . opinion, aboUshed the laws against the liberty of the press, created many literary institutions ; and-whatever were .his pOUtical errors, and the ruthlessness with which, in .the name-of .liberty and reform, he marched to -the attainment of his object, without 'respect for the most -sacred things, he -is generaUy aUowed to be .a man of integrity, and, even by , his enemies, m en thusiast, who deceives; himself , as much as others. Now. in the hopes of obtaining some uncertain and visionary good, .and even while declaring ;his horror -of civU war and' bloodshed, he has risen.in-Te- bellion against the actual government, and is the -cause of the crael war now laging, not in the open fields, 01 even in the - scattered suburbs, but in the very heart of a populous city. This morning all manner of opinions are afloat. Some beUeve that Santa Anna has started from his retreat at Manga de Clavo, and'wiU :arrive to-day — will himself swaUow the disputed -oyster, (the presidential chair), and give each of the combatants ,a sheU a-piece ; some, that a fiesh supply of troops for .the government wiU arrive to-day, and others, that the rebels must eventually .triumph. Among the reports which I trust may be classed as doubtful is, that General Urrea hasissued a proclamation, promising three hours' pillage to aU who join him. Then will be the time for testing the virtues _ of aU diplomatic drapeaux. We hear that two shells have fallen into the -house of Sefior , who has apretty wife.and a numberof children, and that, his azotea is occupied by the federaUst troops. iFortunately, these grenades 120 LIFE IN MEXICO. burst in the patio of his house, and no one was injured. The chief danger for those who are not actuaUy engaged in this affair is from these buUets and shells, which come rattling into aU the houses. We have messages from various people whom we invited here for safety, that they would gladly accept our offer, but are unwitting to leave their houses exposed to piUage, and do not dare to pass through the streets. So our numbers have not increased as yet. You may suppose, that although this is Sunday, there is no mass in the churches. The Prior of San Fernando, who has just sent us round some colossal cauliflowers and other fine vegetables from bis garden, permits us to come to his convent for safety, should any thing occur- here. ... I am afraid he would lodge the woman kind in some outhouse. Sunday Evening. — Monsieur de has arrived, and is not worse. We have unexpectedly had twelve persons to dinner to-day. The news to-night is, that the government troops have arrived, and that a great attack will be made by them to-morrow on the rebels in the palace, which wUl probably bring matters to a conclusion. Some of our guests are sitting up, and others lying down on the sofa without undressing. I prefer being comfortable ; so good night ! 20th. — We were astonished this morning at the general tranquil- Uty, and concluded that, instead of having attacked the rebels, the government was holding a parley with them ; but a note from the English minister informs us that a skirmish has taken place between the two parties at one of the gates of the city, in which the govern ment party has triumphed. So far the news is good. Our street has » most picturesque and Uvely appearance this morning. It is crowded with Indians from the country, bringing in their fruit and vegetables for sale, and estabUshing a temporary market in front of the Church of San Fernando. Innumerable car riages, drawn by mules, are passing along, packed inside and out, full of famihes hurrying to the country with their children and move ables. Those who are poorer are making their way on foot — men and women carrying mattresses, and little children foUowing with- baskets and bird-cages — carts are passing, loaded with chairs, and tables, and beds, and all manner of old furniture, uprooted for the first time, no doubt, since many years — all are taking advantage of this temporary cessation of firing to make their escape. Our stables are full of mules and horses, sent us by our friends in the centre of the city, where aU suppUes of water are cut off. Another physician, a Spaniard, has just been shot ! The Count de B , secretary to the French legation, mounted his horse last evening, and, like a true young Frenchman, set off to pay a visit to a pretty girl of his acquaintance, passing through the most dangerous streets, and particularly conspicuous by his singular dress, good looks, and moustaches. He had not gone far before he was surrounded by some dozen of kpfa-os with knives, who would, no doubt, have robbed and despatched him, but that, in tearing off his serapi, they discovered his uniform, and not being very sluUed in . military accoutrements, concluded him to be an officer on the part of the government. They, being on the federaUst side, hurried with their prize to the palace, where he was thrown into prison, and obUged to remain until some of the officers came to see the prisoner, and recognised him, much to their astonishment. LIFE IN MEXICO. 121 We are now going to dine, with what appetite we may, which is generally pretty good. Ten o'clock, p.m. — We ventured out after dinner to take a turn in the direction opposite the city, and met various parties of ladies, who, as they cannot use their carriages at present, were thankful to escape from their temporary and crowded dweUings, and were actually tak ing exercise on foot, when we were encountered by people full of the intelhgence that the great attack on the palace is to be made this evening, and were advised to hurry home. We were also assured that a party of Upiros, headed by their long-bearded captain, an old rob ber of the name of Castro, had passed the night before our door. Be fore we could reach home the firing began, and we have passed several hours in a state of great suspense, amidst the roaring of the cannon, the shouting of the troops, the occasional cries of those who are wounded, and, to make everything appear more lugubrious, the most awful storm of thunder and rain I almost ever heard. 21st. — After passing a sleepless night, listening to the roaring of cannon, and figuring to ourselves the devastation that must have taken place, we find to our amazement that nothing decisive has occurred. The noise last night was mere skirmishing, and half the cannons were fired in the air." In the darkness there was no mark. But though the loss on either side is so much less than might haye been expected, the rebels in the palace cannot be very comfortable, for they say that the air is infected by the number of unburied. dead bodies lying there ; indeed, there are many lying unburied on the street, which is enough to raise a fever, to add to the calamitous state of things. The government bulletin of to-day expresses the regret of the supreme magistrate at seeing his hopes of restoring peace frustrated, and publishes the assurances of fidelity which they have received from aU the departments, especially from Pueblo, Queretaro, and Vera Cruz, in spite of the extraordinary despatches which had there been received from Farias, desiring them to recognise Urrea as minis ter of war, and Don Manuel Crecencio Rejon as minister of the inte rior; "which communications," says the commandant of Queretaro, "produced in my soul only indignation and contempt towards their miserable authors." This morning General sent a few Unes from the citadel, where he and the president are, in which he speaks with confidence of speedily putting down the rebels. 0 n returned many affectionate messages, accompanied by a supply of cigars. They say that the greatest possible bravery is shown by the boys of the miUtary coUege, who are very fine Uttle fellows, and all up in arms on the side of the government. A strong instance of maternal affection and courage was shown by the Sefiora G this morning. Having received various reports concerning her son, who belongs to this college ; first that he was wounded, then that the wound was severe, then that it was sUght; and being naturaUy extremely uneasy about him, she set off alone, and on foot, at five o'clock in the morning, without mentioning her intention to any one, carrying with her a basket of provisions ; passed across the square, and through all the streets planted with cannon; made her way through aU the troops into the citadel; had the satisfaction of finding her son in perfect 122 LIFE IN MEXICO. health, and returned home just as her husband and family had become aware of her absence. Amongst other announcements, the government :have pubUshed that the rebels have demanded that the jewels, together with the service of gold and silver belonging to the Holy Cathedral Church, shaU be given up to them, and threaten to seize the whole by force, should their demand not be acceded to within two hours. " It is very probable that they will do so," adds the bulletin; "thus, adding a new crime-to all they have committed." It is now evening, and again they announce an attack upon the palace ; but I do not believe them, and Usten to the cannon with tolerable tranquillity. AU day famihes continue to pass by, leaving Mexico. The poor shopkeepers are to be pitied. Besides the total cessation of trade, one at least has been shot, and others hava been plundered. A truce of two hours was granted this afternoon, to bury the dead, who were carried out .of the palace. Two of our coUeagues ventured here this morning. 22. — The government bulletin of this morning contains a letter from Santa Anna, dated Manga de Clavo, 19th July, informing the president, with every expression of loyalty and attachment to the. government, that according to his desire he wiU set off this morning in the direction of Perote, "at the head of a respectable division." 23d. — Yesterday, the archbishop invited the chiefs of the pronun- ciados to a conference in his archiepiscopal palace, in order that he might endeavour, in his apostohcal character, to check the effusion of blood. The conference took place, and the rebels requested a suspension of hostilities, whilst the prelate should communicate its results to the president, which was granted by the general-in-cliief. But the pronumsiados broke -the truce, and endeavoured to surprise the president and Almonte in the citadel, passing over the parapets in the Calle de MonteriUa. They were repulsed with slaughter, and a fierce cannonading was kept up all night. They have now requested a parley, which is granted them. More forces have arrived from, Puebla and Toluca. Santa Anna _is expected to reach Puebla to-night, and again General Valencia holds out an invitation to repentance to the " deceived men in the palace." 25th. — A letter is published to-day from Santa Anna to General Victoria, assuring him that, whatever personal considerations might have detained him in his country-seat, he accepts with pleasure the command of the division going to Perote, and wfll in this, as in all things, obey the orders of the supreme government. Firing, with short intervals, continued all yesterday, during the night, and this morning. Two mortars are placed in front of the old Acordada, in the direction of the palace, but as yet they have not been used. There are a crowd of people examining them. Things remain nearly in the same position as before, except that there are more deserters from the revolted party. A proclamation was issued by Urrea, accusing the government of aU the evils that afflict the city, and of aU the bloodshed caused by this civil war. Amongst other things, they complain of the death of Dr. Plan, who was shot in the CaUe del Seminario, and, according to them, by the government troops. General Valencia answers this time without LIFE: IN MEXICO. 123 figures, and with goad1 reason, that the responsibttity - of these mis fortunes- must1 be with those who have provoked the war. 26th. — Firing continues, but without any decided result. It is-a sound that one does not learn to hear with indifference.. There seems Uttle doubt that ultimately the government wdU gain the day,, but the country wiU no doubt remain for some time in a, melancholy state of disorder. BiUs are fastened to-day on the corners of the streets, forbidding att ingress or egress through the miUtary lines, from six in the evening till eight in the morning. Gentlemen who live near us now venture in towards evening, to talk politics or play at whist; but generaUy, in the middle of a game, some report is brought in which drives them- back to their houses and famihes with aU possible haste. Sefior , a young Spaniard who is Uving with us, returning here late last night, was chaUenged by the sentinels at the corner of the street, with the usual " Quien viva?" to which, being in a, brown study, he mechanicaUy repUed "Spain!" Fortunately, the, officer on duty was a man.of common sense and humanity, and instead of firing, warned him to take better care for the future. Last night the archbishop paid a visit to the president, in the con vent of San Agustin, to intercede in favour of thepronundados. The mortars have not yet played, against the palace, owing, it is said, to the desire of the general-in-chief to avoid the further effusion, of blood. The tranquillity of the sovereign people during all this period is astonishing. In what other city in the world would they not have taken part with one or other side ? Shops shut, workmen out of em ployment, thousands of idle people subsisting, heaven, only knows how, yet no riot, no confusion, apparently no impatience. Groups of people coUect on the streets, or stand talking before their doors, and speculate upon probabihties, but await the decision of their military chiefs, as if it were a judgment from heaven,. from which it were both useless and impious to appeal. 27th: — " Long Uve the.Mexican RepubUc!, Long Uve the Supreme Government!" Thus begins the government bulletin of to-day, to which I say Amen ! with aU my heart, since it ushers in the. news of the termination of the revolution. And what particularly attracts my attention is, that instead of the usual stamp, the eagle, serpent, and nopal, we have to-day a shaggy pony, flying asnever did mortal horse before, his tail and mane in a most violent state of excitement, his four short legs aU- in the air at once, and on. his back a man in a jockey-cap, furiously blowing a trumpet, from which issues a, white flag, on which: is printed "News!" in English! and. apparently in- the act of springing over a milestone, on which is inscribed; also in Eng- - Ush, " 100. to New YorkJ" " We have," say the government, " the grateful satisfaction of an nouncing, that the revolution of this capital has terminated happUy. The rebellious troops having: offered, in the night, to lay down arms upon certain conditions, his exceUency the commander-in-chief has accepted their proposals with, convenient modifications, which will be verified to-day; the empire of laws, order, tranquiUity, and. aU other social guarantees being thus re-estabHshed," &.c. Having, arrived at this satisfactory conclusion, which must, be- as ' agreeable to you as it is; to us, I shall close this long letter, merely observing, in apology, .that asiMadame de:Stael said, in answer* to the 124 LIFE IN MEXICO. remark, that "women have nothing to do with poUtics," "That may be ; but when a woman's head is about to be cut off, it is natural she should ask, why?" so it appears to me that, when buUets are whiz zing about our ears, and shells faUing within a few yards of us, it ought to be considered extremely natural, and quite feminine, to in quire into the cause of such phenomena. LETTER XXV. 28th July. To-day is published the plan which was formed by the federalists for the " poUtical regeneration of the republic." They observe, that it is six years since the federal plan, adopted freely by the nation in 1824, was replaced by a system which monopolises aU advantages in favour of a fe w ; that evils had now arrived at that height in which the endeavours of a few men, however illustrious, could have no effect in remedying them, rendering it necessary for aU Mexicans to unite in one combined and energetic force to better their situation ; that salvation can only be hoped for frdm the nation itself, &c. They then proceed to lay their plan, consisting of ten articles, before the public. The first restores the constitution of '24; the national interests to be reformed by a congress composed of four deputies from each state. By the second, the reformed constitution is to be submitted to the legislatures of the states for approbation. By the third, they engage to respect the cathoUc religion, the form of popular govern ment, representative and federal, the division of powers, poUtical liberty of the press, the organisation of a military and naval force, and the equality of rights between all the inhabitants of the nation. By the fourth article, a provisional government is to be established in the capital, whose functions are to be Umited exclusively to the direction of the external relations of the repubUc. By the fifth, this provisional government is to be vested in a Mexican, reuniting the .requisites for this employment, as established in the constitution of '24. By the sixth, the republic promises to give back the ten per cent, added to the duties of consumption, to those who have paid it until now. By the seventh, in eight months after the triumph of the present revolution, all interior custom-houses are to be suppressed, and henceforth no contributions shaU be imposed upon the internal circulation of goods, whether foreign or domestic. By the eighth, they promise to confirm aU the civil and miUtaiy employments of those who do not oppose this political regeneration. By the ninth, rthe army is to be paid with great punctuaUty. By the tenth, a general amnesty is promised to aU who have committed poUtical -errors since the independence; and the names of Farias and Urrea are foUowed by a goodly Ust of major-generals, colonels, &c. This morning, at eleven, Te Deum was sung in the cathedral, there heing present the archbishop, the president, and aU the authorities. The bells, which have preserved an ominous silence during these LIFE IN MEXICO. 125 events, are now ringing forth in a confusion of tongues. . The palace being crippled with baUs, and in a state of utter confusion, the president and his ministers occupy ceUs in the convent of San Agustin. The Federalists have marched out upon the following conditions : 1st. Their lives, persons, employments, and properties are to be in violably preserved. 2nd. General Valencia engages to interpose his influence with the government by aU legal means, that they may re quest the chambers to proceed to reform the constitution. 3rd. All political events which have occurred since the fifteenth, up to this date, are to be totally forgotten, the forces who adhered to the plan of the fifteenth being included in- this agreement. 4th. A passport out of the republic is to be given to whatever individual, compre hended in this agreement, may solicit it. 5th. The troops of the pronunaados are to proceed to wherever General Valencia orders them, commanded by one of their own captains, whom he shaU point out, and who must answer for any disorders they may commit. 6th. General Valencia, and aU the other generals of his army, must promise on their honour, before the whole world, to.keep this treaty, and see to its exact accompUshment. 7th. It only applies to Mexi cans. 8th. Whenever it. is ratified by the chiefs of both parties, it is to be punctuaUy fulfilled, hostilities being suspended until, six in the morning of the twenty-seventh, which gives time to ratify the conditions. The president may exclaim, " One such victory more, and I am undone!" Orders are issued by General Valencia to the effect, that until the Federalist troops have marched out of the city, no group passing five in number wiU be permitted in the streets ; that until then, there is to be no . trading . through the streets; that at three o'clock the eating-houses may be thrown open, but not the taverns till the next day ; and that the police and alcaldes of the different wards are held responsible for the accompUshment of these orders, and may make use of armed force to preserve order. The governor enforces these orders with additions. People, must turn in at nine o'clock, or give an account of themselves ; must give up all their guns, carbines, &c. to the alcalde, under a heavy penalty ; and none, excepting military men, may go on horseback from five in the evening until six in the morning, during five days. 29th. — Our guests have left us, all but Monsieur , who, al though recovered, cannot yet be moved. AU money, plate, and jewels in our charge are restored to their rightful owners; and the Spanish colours, which have never been hoisted, return to their former obscurity. I re-open the piano, uncover and tune the harp, and as we have been almost entirely shut up during thirteen days of heavenly weather, feel rejoiced at the prospect of getting out again. August 1st. — Have just come in from a drive through the city. The palace and houses near it are certainly in a melancholy condition. The palace, with its innumerable smashed windows and battered walls, looks as if it had become stone-blind in consequence of having the smaU-pox. Broken windows and walls full of holes 'characterise aU the streets in that direction ; yet there is less real damage done than might have been expected, after such a furious firing and can nonading. To read the accounts pubUshed, and of the truth of which we had 126 LIFE IN MEXICO. auricular demonstration, one would have expected to find half the city in Tuins. Here is the sum total of the firing, as pubUshed : — " On the 15th, firing from two o'clock tiU the next day. On the 16th, continual firing tiU one o'clock. Suspension tiU four o'clock. Firing from that hour, without intermission, till the foUowing day. 17th, firing from morningtiU night. 18th, firing from before day break tillthe evening. 19th, continual firing. Constant emigration of famines these last four days. 20th, continual firing all day. Skirmish atthe gate of San Lazaro. -21st, firing continued, though less hotly, but in the night with more vigour than ever. 22nd, day of the junta inthe archbishop's palace. Firing began at eleven at night, and lasted tiU morning. 23d, firing tiU mid-day. Parley. 24th, formidable firing, terrible attack, and firing tiU morning. 25th, firing tiU the evening. .26th, firing from .six in the .morning tiU two o'clock. Capitulation that night." As " every buUet has its billet," they must aU have lodged some where. Of course, -nothing else is talked of as yet, and every one has his own personal experiences to recount. Some houses have be come nearly uninhabitable; glass, pictures, clocks, plaster, all lying in morsels about the -floor, and air-holes in the roofs and walls,. through which these winged messengers of destruction have" passed. Ladies and children escaped, in many instances, by the azoteas, going along the street from one roof to another, not being able to pass where the cannon were planted. The soldiers of both parties, who have occupied the roofs of the houses, behaved with great civility; their officers, on many occasions, sending to the family with a request that they would complain .of any insolence that might be shown by their men. But no civility could ensure the safety of the dwellers in these houses. The pooT nuns have been terribly frightened, and have passed these -stormy nights in prayers and hymns, which those who Uve near their convents say were frequently heard at .midnight, in the intervals of firing. I went to see the Countess de V e, and she showed me the great hole in the waUby her bedside, through which the sheU made its- entree. The fragments are stiU lying there, so heavy that I could not liftthem. AUthe windows at thehead of that street are broken in pieces. The shops are re-opened, however, and people are going about their usual avocations, pretty much as ifnothimg had hap pened; and probably the whole result of aU this confusion and de struction wiU be — a change of ministry. The houses of congress are again opened. The ministers presented themselves in the chamber of deputies, and a short account of the late revolution was given by General Almonte, who, by-the-way, was never taken prisoner, as was at first reported. He had gone out to ride early in the morning, when General Urrea, with some soldiers, rode up to him and demanded his sword, teUing -him that the pre sident was arrested. For aU answer, Almonte drew his sword, and, fighting his ways through them, galloped to the citadel. Urrea, riding back, passed by Almonte's house, and pohtely taking off his hat, saluted the ladies of the family, hoped they were weU, and remarked on the fineness of the weather. They were not a little astonished when, a short time after, they heard what had happened. Madame de C and her daughter were out riding when the LIFE IN MEXICO. 127 firing began, on the morning of the revolution, and gaUoped home in. consternation. 8th. — Paid a visit to day where the lady of the house is a leper, though it is supposed that all who are afflicted with this scourge are sent to the hospital of San Lazaro. We rode before breakfast this morning to the old church of La Piedad, and, on our return, found a packet containing letters from London, Paris, New York, and Madrid. The arrival of the English packet, which brings aU these nouveautes, is about the most interest ing event that occurs here. * LETTER XXVI. SQth August. In the poUtical world nothing very interesting has occurred, and as yet there is no change of ministry. Yesterday morning C n set off in a coach-and-six for the vaUey of Toluca, about eighteen leagues from Mexico, with a rich Spaniard, Sefior M r y T n, who has a large hacienda there. Last Sunday morning, being the first Sunday since the revolution, we had forty visitors : ladies and gentlemen, English, French, Spanish, and Mexican. Such varieties of dresses and languages I have seldom seen united in one room; and as many anecdotes connected with the pronundamiento were related, some grave, some ludicrous, as would form a volume ! The Baron de haying just left this for your part of the world, you wiU learn by him the last inteUigence of it and of us. As there is a want of rain, the Virgin de los Remedios was brought into Mexico ; but as there is stiU a slight ripple on the face of the lately- troubled waters, she was carried in privately; for aU reunions of people are dreaded at this juncture. I had just prepared pieces of velvet and silk to hang on the balconies, when I found that the pro cession had gone by a back street after sunset. I went lately to visit the nuns of the Encarwadom, to inquire bow they stood their alarms ; for their convent had been filled with sol diers, and they had been in the very heart of the firing. I was wel comed by a figure covered from head to foot with a double black crape veil', who expressed great joy at seeing me again, and told me she was one of the madres who received us before. She spoke with horror of the late revolution, and of the state of fear and trembling in which they had passed their time ; soldiers within their very walls, and their prayers interrupted by volleys of cannon. Thanks to the intercession of the Virgin, no accident had occurred; but she added, that had the Virgin de los Remedios been brought in sooner, these disorders might never have taken place. I went from thence to the Convent of Santa Teresa, where I saw no one, but discoursed with a number of voices, from the shrill treble of the old madre priora, to the full, cheerful tones of my friend the Madre A1 . There is something rather awful in sending one's 128' LIFE IN MEXICO. voice in this way into an unknown region, and then listening for a response from the unseen dwellers there. I have not yet been inside this convent; but now that affairs are settled for the present, I trust that the archbishop will kindly grant his permission to that effect. The rainy season is now at its height: that is, it rains severely every evening, but in the morning it is lovely. The disagreeable part of it is, that the roads are so bad, it is difficult to continue oiir rides in the environs. Horse and rider, after one of these expedi tions, appear to have been taking a mud-bath. - It is very amusing to stand at the window about four o'clock, and see every one sud denly caught in the most tremendous shower. In five minutes the streets become rivers, and canoes would be rather more useful than carriages. Strong porters (cargadores) are in readiness to carry weU- dressed men or women, who are caught in the deluge, across the streets. Coachmen and footmen have their great-coats prepared to draw on ; and aU horsemen have their serapes strapped behind their saddles, in which, with their shining leather hats, they can brave the storm. Trusting to an occasional cessation of rain, which some times takes place, people continue to go out in the evening ; but it is downright cruelty to coachman and animals, unless the visit is to a house with a porte-cochere, which many of the houses have — this amongst others. September 1st. — Had a dispute this morning with an Englishman, who complains bitterly of Mexican insincerity. I have reason to believe the chief cause of this complaint amongst foreigners consists in their attaching the slightest value to the" common phrase, "Estd a la disposidon de V." Everything is placed at your disposal — house, carriage, servants, horses, mules, &c. — the lady's earrings, the gen tleman's diamond pin, the child's frock. You admire a ring — it is perfectly at your service; a horse — ditto Letters are dated "from your house;" (de la casa de V.) Some from ignorance of the custom, and others from knavery, take advantage of these offers, which are mere expressions of civiUty, much to the confusion and astonishment of the polite offerer, who has no more intention of being credited than you have when, from common etiquette, you sign yourself the very humble servant of the very greatest bore. It is a mere habit ; and to caU people who indulge in it insincere, reminds me of the Italian mentioned somewhere by Lady Blessington, who thought he had made a conquest of a fair Englishwoman, though somewhat shocked by her forwardness, because, in an indifferent note to him, she signed herself " Truly yours." Shall I ever forget the crest-faUen countenance of a Mexican gentleman who had just purchased a very handsome set of London harness, when, hearing it admired by a Frenchman, he gave the customary answer, " It is quite at your dis posal," and was answered by a profusion of bows, and a ready ac ceptance of the offer ! the only difficulty with the Frenchman being as to whether or not he could carry it home under his cloak, which he did. If all these offers of service, in which it is Mexican etiquette to in dulge, be believed in — ¦" Remember that I am here but to serve you;" " My house and everything in it are quite at your disposal;" "Com mand me in all things" — we shaU of course be disappointed by find-- ing that, notwithstanding these reiterated assurances, we must hire a house for ourselves, and even servants to wait on us; but take LIFE IN MEXICO. 129 these expressions at what they are worth, and I believe we shaU find that people here are about as sincere as their neighbours. You ask me about this climate, for . For one who, like her, is in perfect health, I should think it exceUent ; and even an invalid has only to travel a few hours, and he arrives at the tierra caliente. This climate is that of the tropics, raised some thousand feet above the level of the sea; consequently there is an extreme purity and thinness of the atmosphere, which generaUy affects the breathing at . first. In some it causes an oppression on the chest. On me it had little effect, if any; and, at all events, the feeling goes off after the first month or so. There is a general tendency to nervous irritation, and to inflammatory complaints ; and during September and Octo ber, on account of the heavy rains and the drained lakes on which part of the city is built, there is said to be a good deal of ague. Since the time of the cholera in 1833, which committed terrible ravages here, there has been no other epidemic. The smaU-pox in ¦ deed has been very conimon lately ; but it is owing to the careless ness. of the common people, or rather to their prejudice against hav ing their children vaccinated. The nervous complaints of the ladies are an unfailing source of profit to the sons of Galen, for they seem to be incurable. Having no personal experience of these evils, I only speak from what I see in others. It appears to me that the only fault of the cUmate con sists in its being monotonously perfect, which is a great drawback to easy and polite conversation. The evening deluge is but a periodical watering of the earth, from which it rises, like Venus from the sea, more lovely and refreshed than ever. 19th. -^-We went yesterday to San Angelo, one of the prettiest vil lages in the environs of Mexico, and spent the day at the hacienda of Sefior T e, which is in the neighbourhood. The rain has ren dered the roads almost impassable, and the country round Mexico must be more like Cortes's description of it at this season than at any other period. One part of the road near the hacienda, which is entirely destroyed, the owner of the house wished to repair ; but the Indians, who claim that part of the land, will not permit the inno vation, though he offered to throw a bridge over a small stream -which passes there at his own expense. 27th. — This being Sunday, and a fete-day, a man was murdered close by our door, in a quarrel brought about probably through the influence of pulque, or rather of chinguirite. If they did not so often end in deadly quarrel, there would be nothing so amusing as to watch the Indians gradually becoming a Uttle intoxicated. They are at first so polite; handing the pulque-jar to their fair companions (fair being taken in the general or Pickwickian sense of the word) ; always taking off their hats to each other, and if they meet a woman, kissing her hand with an humble bow as if she were a duchess; but these same women are sure to be the cause of a quarrel, and then out come these horrible knives; and then, Adios! It is impossible to conceive anything more humble and polite than the common country-people. Men and women stop and wish you a good day, the men holding their hats in their hands, and all showing their white teeth, and faces lighted up by careless good nature. I regret to state, however, that to-day there are a great many women quite as tipsy as the men, returning home after the I 130 LIFE IN MEXICO. fete, and increasing the distance to their village by'itaKng a zigzag direction through the streets 28th. — We drove out to the Pefian; a natural boiling fountain, where there are baths, which are considered a universal remedy, a pool of Bethesda, but an especial one for rheumatic complaints. The baths- are a square of low stone buildings, with a church; each building containing five or six empty rooms, in one of which is a square bath. The idea seems to have been to form a sort of. dweU- ing-house for different families, as each bath has a smaU kitchen^at- tached to it. Like most great ideas of Spanish days, it is now in a state of perfect desolation, though people:stiU flock there for various complaints. When one goes' there to bathe, it -is necessary to carry a mattress to lie down on when you leave the bath, linen, a bottle of cold water, of which there is not a drop in the place, and which is particularly necessary for an invaUd in case -of faintness; in short, everything that you may require. A poort family. Uve there to take charge of the baths, and there is a small tavern where they -seU spirits and pulque; and occasionaUy a padre comes on Sunday to say mass in the old church. These boiling springs are said to contain sulphate-of Ume, car bonic acid; and muriate of soda; and the Indians-make salt in. their neighbourhood, precisely as they did in .the time of Montezuma, with the difference, as Humboldt informs us, ..that. then they-used vessels of clay, and now they use copper caldrons. > The' solitary- looking baths are ornamented .with oddrlookingi heads -of cats-or monkeys, which grin down upon you with a mixture of the sinister and facetious rather appalling. The Sefiora de insisted on my partaking, of her -exceUent luncheon .after the bath. We could not help thinking, were these baths in the hands of some enterprising and i speculative Yankee, what a, fortune he would make J how he would -build a hotel a he Saratoga, would paper the rooms, -and otherwise '.beautify . this un couth temple of boiling water. There is an indescribable. feeUng of solitude in all houses in- the environs of Mexico : a vastness, a desolation, such as I never before experienced in the most lonely dwellings :in other countries. : It is not sad; the sky is too bright, and nature, too smiUng, and the ,air we inhale too pure for that. It is a sensation of being entirely out of the world, and .alone with a giant nature, surrounded by faint traditions of a bygone race; and the feeling, is not diminished when the silence- is broken by the footstep-of the passing Indian, the poor and debased descendant of that extraordinary and mysterious peo ple, who came we know not whence, and whose posterity are now "hewers of wood and drawers of water," on the soil where they once were monarchs. In Chapultepec especially, near as it is to a large and populous city, the traditions of the past come so strongly upon the mind,, that one would rather look for the apparition of a whole band of these inky-haired, adder-anointed priests of Montezuma, than expect to meet with the benevolent-looking archbishop, who, in purple robes, occasionally walks under the shade of the majestic cypresses. AU Mexicans at present, men and women, are engaged in what are caUed the desagravios: a public penance performed at this season in the churches, during thirty-five days. The women attend church LIFE IN MEXICO. 131 in the morning, no men being permi'frted to enter, and tliemenin the evening, when women are not admitted. Both, rules are occa sionally broken. The- penitence of the men is most severe, .their sins being no doubt proportionably greater than those of the women ; though it: is one of -the few. countries where they, suffer "for this,- or seem to actuponthe principle,. that "if aU men had, their deserts, who wouldescape- whipping ?" -To-day we attended the morning penitence at six o'clock, in the church of San Francisco ; the hardest part of which was their having to kneel for/about ten minutes with their arms extended in the form of: a cross, uttering groans; a most painful position for any length of time. It was a profane thought,' but I.dare.-say so many hundreds of beautifully-formed arms and hands were seldom seenextended-at the same moment before. Gloves not being- worn in church,- and many of the: women having short sleeves,, they, were very much seen. But the .other night I was present at a much, stranger scene, at the discipline performed: by the men, .admission having- been. procured for us by certain means, private buti powerful. Accordingly, when.lt was dark, enveloped from head to foot in large cloaks, and without the slightest idea of what it was,wewent on foot' through, the streets to the church of San Agustin. When we :arrived, a, small, side-door apparently opened of itself, and we entered,,passing through: long vaulted passages, andup steep winding stairs, tiU-we.found ourselves in a small railed gaUery, looking down1 directly .upon the church. The scene was .ourious. About one hundred-arid fifty men, enve loped in cloaks and serap'es, their faces, entirely-concealed, were as sembled in the body of the church. A monkhad just mounted the . pulpit, -and- the chureh was dimly lighted,, except where he, stood in bold relief, with his gay robes and cowl thrown back, giving a fuU view of his high bald forehead and. expressive face. His discourse was a rude but very forcible and eloquent descrip tion .of. the torments prepared in heU for impenitent sinners. The effect of the whole was very solemn. It appeared like a preparation for the execution of a multitude of condemned criminals. When the discourse was finished, they all joined in prayer with much fervour and enthusiasm, beating their breasts and felling upon their faces. Then the monk stood up, and in a very distinct voice read several passages of Scripture descriptive of the sufferings of Christ. The organ then struck up the Miserere, and aU of a sudden the church was plunged in profound darkness ; aU but a sculptured representa tion of the Crucifixion, which seemed to hang in the air illuminated. I felt rather frightened, and would have been very glad to leave the church, but it would have been impossible in the darkness. Sud denly, a terrible voice in the dark cried, " My -brothers ! when Christ was fastened to the pillar by the Jews, he was scourged!" .At these words, the bright figure disappeared, and the darkness became total. Suddenly, we heard the sound of. hundreds of scourges descending upon the bare flesh. 1 cannot conceive anything more horrible. Before ten minuteshad passed, the sound became splashing, from the blood that was flowing. I have heard of these penitences in ItaUan churches, and also that half of those who go there do not really scourge themselves ;. but here, where there is such perfect concealment, there seems, no. motive for deception. Incredible as it may seem, this awful, penance continued 132 LIFE IN MEXICO. without intermission for half-an-hour ! If they scourged each othei , their energy might be less astonishing. We could not leave the church, but it was perfectly sickening; and had I not been able to take hold of the Sefiora 's hand, and feel something human beside me, I could have fancied 'myself trans ported into a congregation of evil spirits. Now and then, but very seldom, a suppressed groan was heard, and occasionaUy the voice of the monk encouraging them by ejaculations, or by short passages from Scripture. Sometimes the organ struck up, and, the poor wretches, in a faint voice, tried to join in the Miserere. The sound of the scourging is indescribable. At the end of half-an-hour a Uttle beU was rung, and the voice of the monk was heard catting upohf them to desist; but such was their enthusiasm, that the horrible lashing continued louder and fiercer than ever. In vain he entreated them not to kill themselves; and assured them that Heaven would be satified, and that human nature could not endure beyond a certain point. No answer but the loud sound of the scourges, which are many of them of iron, with sharp points that enter the flesh. At length, as if they were perfectly exhausted, the sound grew fainter, and little by little ceased altogether. We then got up in the dark, and with great difficulty groped our way in the pitch darkness through the gaUeries and down the stairs, titl we reached the door, and had the pleasure of feeling the fresh air again. They say that the church-floor is frequently covered with blobd after one of these penances, and that a man died the other day iri consequence of his wounds. I then went to the house of the • minister, where there was a reunion, and where I found the company comfortably engaged in eating a very famous kind of German salad, composed of herrings; smoked salmon, cold potatoes, and apples (salmagundi ?), and drink ing hot punch. After the cold, darkness, and horrors of the church, this -formed rather a contrast; and it was some time before I could shake off the disagreeable impression left by the desagravios, and join in the conversation. LETTER XXVII. 3rd October. Yesterday being C n's fete-day, we had a dinner and sniaU soiree, and, according to custom, visits the whole day. A very agree able guest from Havana, Don J A , arrived to spend a few weeks with us. We had rather a pleasant party, and some good singing; but just as dancing had begun, C n took me aside, and showed me a Uttle friendly note which he had received while at din ner, from General , in which he informs him that the robbers would in all probabiUty attack our respective houses that night ; that he had taken his precautions, and advises C n to do the same, in the understanding that, if necessary, they should mutuaUy assist each other. A pleasant piece of intelligence ! The thing got whis- LIFE IN MEXICO. 133 pered about, and some of the ladies looked a Uttle blank at the.iri- formation; but there could be no risk while so many. persons were coUected. About one they went away, and C n sent for some soldiers to keep watch aU night. Nothing happened, as, no doubt, the robbers found out what precautions had been taken. The in tended attack had been discovered by a servant of the general's, . who heard them discussing the matter in the back-room of a pulque shop. We have been obliged to procure two old soldiers as porters, in lieu of the two who were shot in the revolution ; for though not kitted, they are entirely disabled for the present. Mexico appears particularly quiet just now ; and whatever storms. may be preparing, no symptoms are visible to the uninitiated eye. The palace has got in its glass eyes again, and externally is almost entirely repaired; but it is not yet fit for the residence of the presi dent, who stiU holds his court in the convent of San Agustin. I have been driving about with our Havana friend, like an old resi dent, showing the beauties of Mexico to a stranger. We have been in .the Mineria, Museum, Botanical Garden, Biscay CoUege, &c. ; aU of which can bear revision. i ¦ ,The Museum especiaUy, which, owing to the want of arrangement and classification in the antiquities, and the manner in which they are crowded together in the different rooms of the university, appears at, first undeserving ofmuch attention, improves upon acquaintance.. It is only since the year '25 that it was estabUshed by the govern ment, and various plans have been since made for enriching and arranging it, and also for transporting it to the old building of the Inquisition. But as yet nothing essential has been carried into effect. , It contains upwards of two hundred historical manuscripts, some in.hieroglyphical characters anterior to the conquest, and many in the different, ancient languages of the country. Of the ancient. sculpture it possesses two colossal statues and many smaller ones, , besides a variety of busts, heads, figures of animals, masks, and in~. struments of music or of war, curiously engraved, and indicating the.. different degrees of civihzation of the different nations to whom they belonged. A great many of the vases of tecal, and of the candlesticks in clay, curiously worked, were drawn from excavations in the Isle. of Sacrifices, near Vera Cruz, from Oajaca, &c. and from the suburbs. of Mexico. There is also a coUection of very ancient medals, to the number of six hundred, a bronze bust of Philip V. and about two hundred Mexican paintings, comprehending two collections of the portraits of the Spanish viceroys, many of the celebrated Cabrera's, and various dresses, arms, .and utensils, front both the Californias. In the . cabinet of natural history there is a good collection of minerals, and some very fine specimens of gold and silver. But in the animal or vegetable branch of natural history, there is a great , deficiency, and altogether the Museum is not worthy of a country which seems destined by nature to be the great emporium of-aU na~- tural science. I have been so much interested in the affairs of, the C a family, , that I have forgotten to tell you of my having obtained permission from the archbishop to visit the Santa Teresa, apcornpanied, by one. young, married lady, who has a sister there. The archbishop desired. 134 LIFE IN MEXICO. that our visit should be kept a secret ; but it has oozed out by some means or other, probably through the nuns themselves, and exposed him, to sd nruch inconvenience, and such a torrent of soUcitations from those ladies who, having daughters or sisters amongst the nuns, are naturahy1 most desirous to see- them, that I fear; notwithstanding his good-nature, he wiU put a veto on-all my future applications.' You will think I pass my time in convents, but I find no: other places half so interesting, and you know I always had a fancy that' way The Santa Teresa has few ornaments.- It is'not nearly so large, as the Encarnadon, and admits but twentyione nuns. At present there are, besides these, but three novices. Its very atmosphere seems holy; and its scrupulous and excessive cleanness makes aU profane. dwellings appear dirty by comparison. We were accompanied by a bishop;- Sefior Madrid, the same- -who assisted at the archbishop's consecration : a good-looking man, young and tall, and very splen didly dressed.. His- robes were of purple satin,: covered with . fine point-lace, with a large- cross of diamonds and amethysts.; He- also wore a cloak of very fine purple cloth, lined with crimson velvet, crimson stockings, and an immense amethyst ring.: When he came in we found that the nuns had permission to put up-their veils, rarely aUowed in this order in the presence of strangers. They have a small garden and fountain, plenty of flowers, and some fruit; but aU is on a smaller scale, and 'sadder than- in the convent of the Incarnation.. The refectory is a large room, with a long nar row table running aU around it— a plain deal table, with wooden benches; before the place of each nun, an earthen bowl, an -earthen- cup with an apple in it, a wooden plate, and a wooden spoon ; at the top of the table a grinning skuU, to remind them that even these indulgences they shall not long enjoy. In. one corner of the room is a reading desk: a- sort of elevated pulpit, where one reads aloud from some holy book, whilst the others discuss their -simple fare. Theyshowedus a crown of thorns, which, on certain days, is worn by one of their number, by way of penance. It is made of iron, so that the nails,', entering inwards, run into the head and make it bleed.- While she -wears this on her head,, a sort of wooden bit isput into her mouth;' and she lies. pros trate on her face till dinner isended ; and whUe in this condition her food is, given her, of -which she eats' as much , as she' can, which probably is none. We visited the. differentceUs^and were horror-struck ^at the self- inflicted tortures. Each bed consists of a wooden plank raised in this middle, and on days of penitence crossed by wooden bars: ¦ . The pillow is wooden, with a cross- lying on it, which they hold in their hands when they lie down. The nun Ues on this penitential couch, embracing the cross, and her ¦ feet hanging out, as the bed is made too short for her upon- principle. Round her waist she occasionally wears a band with iron points turning inwards ; on her breast a cross with nails, of which the points enter the flesh, of the truth of which I had melancholy ocular demonstration. Then, after having scourged herself with a whip covered with iron nails,-. she Ues down for a few hours on the wooden bars; and rises at four o'clock.' All these in struments of discipline, which each nun keeps in. a little box beside her bed, look as if their fitting place would be -in the dungeons. of LIFE IN' MEXICO. 135 the Inquisition. They made me try theix'bedand board, which I told them would give me a very decided taste for early rising. Yet they aU'seem as: cheerful as possible; though it must be con fessed that many of them look pale and unhealthy. It is said, that when they are strong enough to stand this mode of life, they live very long; but, it: frequently happens that girls who come into this convent are obUged- to. leave it from sickness, long before the expi ration of their noviciate.; I met with the 'girl whom I had seen take the -veil, and cannot say that, she looked either weU or cheerful, though she assured me, that " of course, in doing the. will of God," she was both. There was not much beauty amongst them generally, though one or two had remains of great loveUness. My friend, the Madre A — — , is handsomer on a closer view than I had supposed her, and seems an. especial favourite with old and young. But there was one whose face must have been .strikingly beautiful.' She was as pale as marble, and though still young, seemed in very delicate health; but. her eyes and eyebrows as black as jet, the eyes so large and soft; the eyebrows two penciUed arches, and her smiles so re signed and. sweet, would.have made her the loveliest model imagin able for a Madonna; ¦ , Again, as in the Incarnation, they had taken the trouble to pre pare, an. elegant supper for us. The bishop took hisplace in an an tique velvet chair; the Sefiora — — and I were placed on each side of him. The room was very weU lighted, and there was as great a profusion of- custards, jelUes, and ices, as if we had been supping at' the most profane cafi. The nuns did not sit down, but walked about; pressing- us to.' eat, the.'bishop- now and then giving them cakes, with permission- to eat them, which they received laughing. They have- the most humble and caressing manners, and really appear to be»the most amiable and excellent women in the world. They seem to make-no ostentation of virtue, butto be seriously im pressed with the conviction that they have chosen the true road to salvation ; nor are there in them any visible symptoms of that spiri tual pride from which few devotees are exempt. After supper, a smaU harp was brought in, which had been sent for by the bishop's permission. It was terribly out of tune, with half the strings broken ; but we were determined to grudge no trouble in putting it in order, and giving theserpaor recluses what they con sidered so great a gratification. We got it into some sort of condi tion at last, and when they heard it played, they were vehement in their expressions of delight. The Sefiora , who has a charming voice, afterwards sang to them, the bishop being very indulgent, and: permitting us. to select whatever songs we chose, so that when rather a profane canticle, " The Virgin of the PiUar" (La Virgen del Pilar), was. sung, he-very kindly turned a deaf ear to it, and seemed busily engaged, in, conversation with an old madre, tiU it was aU over. We were reaUy sorry to leave them; particularly as it is next to impossible that we shaU ever see them again ; and it seemed as if in a few hours a friendship had been formed between us and these re cluses, whose sensations are so few that they must be the more last ing, The thoughts of these- poor -Women cost me- a sad and sleepless night; They have sent me some wax figures, dressed in the cos tumes' of the different, orders, beginning with their own. They 136 LIFE IN MEXICO. wear the coarsest and hardest stuff next the skin : in itself a perpetual penance. . In these robes they are buried ; and one would think that, if any human being can ever leave this world without a feeling of regret, it must be a nun of the Santa Teresa, when, her privations in this world ended, she lays down her blameless life, and joins the pious sisterhood who have gone before her ; dying where she has, lived, surrounded by her companions, her last hours soothed by theur prayers and tears, sure of their vigils for the repose of her soul, and, above all, sure that neither pleasure nor vanity wiU ever obUterate. her remembrance from their hearts. 1 At matins, at vespers, at the simple board, at the nightly hymn, she will be missed from their train. Her empty cell wiU- recall her to their eyes ; her dust wiU be profaned by no stranger's, foot step; and though taken away, she stiU seems to remain amongst them. . . . As for the monasteries, not only no woman can enter, but it is said, with what truth I know not, that a vice- queen having insisted on the privilege of her viceroyalty to enter, the gallery, and every place which her footsteps desecrated, were unpaved. This, was very Saint Senanus like, and peu galant, to say the least. The finest convent of monks in Mexico is that of San Francisco, which from alms alone has an immense annual rent. According to Humboldt, it was to have . been built upon the ruins of the temple of Huitzilopoclitli, the god of war; but these ruins having been destined for the foundation of the cathedral, this immense convent was erected where it now stands in 1531 . The founder was an ex traordinary man, a great benefactor of the Indians, and to whom they owed many useful mechanical arts which he brought them. from Europe. His name was Fray Pedro de Grante, his calling that of a lay-friar, and his father was the Emperor Charles V..L LETTER XXVIII. Santiago, 3rd November. Yesterday, the second of November, a day which for eight centuries has been set apart in the catholic church for commemorating the- dead, the day emphaticahy known as the " Dia de Muertos," the churches throughout all the republic of Mexico present a gloomy spectacle : darkened and hung with black cloth, while in the middle aisle is a coffin, covered also with black, and painted with skulls and- other emblems of mortality. Every one attends church in mourning ; and considering the common lot of humanity, there is, perhaps, not one heart over the whole catholic world which is not wrung that day, in caUing up the memory of the departed. After early mass, we set off for Santiago, where we intend to spend a week, to be present at the herraderos — the marking of the bulls with a hot iron with the initials of the proprietor's name, stamping- LIFE IN MEXICO. 137 them with the badge of slavery — which is said to be an extraordi nary scene, to which all rancheros and Indians look forward with the greatest delight. We had a very pleasant journey hither, leaving Mexico at six in the morning, and travelling at the usual rate, with seven horses and plenty of mozos. Indeed, ho one attempts a journey of any length into the country without at least six horses or. mules. Near Sopayuca, while they were changing horses, we went t©; mass in the picturesque church of San Cristobal. The magnificence of these places of worship is extraordinary Here was this country church crowded with leperos; the officiating priests, Indians with bare feet ; yet the building large and rich, hung with black cloth, and Ughted with great tapers, which threw their gloomy rays on as- much of the rich gilding that encrusted the walls as the dark pall left visible. We got into the carriage a basket of that most refreshing of fruits, the tuna, which grow wild in abundance all over the country. The first time I unwarily pulled them off the trees, I got my fingers, fuU of the innumerable little prickles which cover the skin, and which it is very difficult to get rid of. The Indians have great dexterity in gathering and peeling them. There are the green and. the red tuna ; the last the prettier to look at, but not nearly so agree able a fruit as the other. When we arrived at Santiago, we sat down to dinner to the num ber of about fifty persons ; and in the room next to us was a party still larger, of lower degree, for all the world has come to be present, at this annual festivity. 6th. — The next morning we set off early to the plaza de toros. The day was fresh and exhilarating. AU the country people from several leagues round were assembled, and the trees up to their very topmost branches presented a, coUection of bronze faces and black. eyes, belonging to the Indians, who had taken their places there as- comfortably as spectators in a one-shilling gallery. A platform opposite ours was filled with the wives and daughters of agents and. small farmers, little rancheras, with short white gowns and rebozos. There was a very tolerable band of music perched upon a natural. orchestra. Bernardo and his men were walking and riding about, and preparing for action. Nothing could be more picturesque than the whole scene. Seven hundred bulls were driven in from the plains, beUowing loudly, so that the air was filled with their fierce music. The uni versal love which the Mexicans have for these sports amounts to a passion. All their money is reserved to buy new dresses for this. occasion, silver roUs or gold Unings for their hats, or new deerskin pantaloons and embroidered jackets with silver buttons. The acci- • dents that happen are innumerable, but nothing damps their ardour. It beats fox-hunting. The most striking part of the scene is the ex traordinary faeiUty which these men show in throwing the lasso. The bulls being all driven into an enclosure, one after another, and sometimes two or three at a time, were chosen from amongst them,. and driven into the plaza, where they were received with shouts of applause if they appeared fierce and likely to afford good sport, or of irony if they turned to fly, which happened more than once. Three or four bulls are driven in. They stand for a moment,, proudly reconnoitring their, opponents. The horsemen gaUop up,. 138 LIFE. INS.'MEXICO. armed only with the lasso, and with, loud insulting cries of "An ton!" challenge them to the contest. The. binls paw the ground, then, plunge furiously at the horses, frequently wounding them at, the i first onset. Round they go in fierce gaUop, bulls and horsemen, amidst the cries and shouts' of the spectators:- The horseman throws the lasso. The bull shakes his- head free of the cord, tosses his horns prerudly, and gallops, on. But his fate is inevitable, Down comes the whirling.rope and encircles his thick neck. He is -thrown down, struggling, furiously, and repeatedly dashes his -head- against the, ground in rage and despair,- Then, hislegs being also tied, the* man with the hissing red-hot iron in the form of a letter brands him on the side -with the token of , his dependence on the lord of the soil. Some of the bulls stand this martyrdom with Spartan heroism, and do not utter a cry; but others, when the iron enters their flesh,. burst out into long bellowing roars, that seem to echo- through the. whole country. They are then loosened, get upon: their legs again; and, like so manyhranded Cains, are driven out into the country, to makes way for others. Such roaring, such shouting, such an odour of singed, hair and biftek au.naturel, such playing of musio, and-sueh wantons risks as were run- by the men !i I saw a toreador; iwho was always foremost in everything, attempt ing to drag a bull by the horns, when the animal tossed his head, andi.with one jerk of one horn tore aU the flesh off: his>fingerto the very bone. The man coolly fore a piece offra- handkerchief,, shook the blood of his finger with a slight grimace, bound it up in. a mo ment, and dashed away upon a new venture. One Mexican, extraor< dinarily handsome, with eyes like an eagle, but very thin and pale, is, they say,so, covered from head to foot with wounds received in different bullfights;- that he- -cannot live long;: yet this man was the most enthusiastic of > them aU. His master- tried to. dissuade him fromi joining: in the sport this year; but, he broke forth into such pathetic.entreaties, conjuring him-i" by the life of. the sefiorita," &c that he could not withhold his consent; After an enormous num-ber-of bulls had been caught and labelled, - we went to -breakfast. We found a tent prepared for us, formed of boughs of trees intertwined with garlands of whit© moss, like that which covers the cypresses at Chapultepec, and beautifully orna mented with red blossoms and scarlet berries. We sat down upon heaps: of white moss, softer than any cushion. The Indians had cooked -meat under the stones for. us, which I found horrible, smelling amd.4asting of smoke. But we had also boiled fowls,. and quantities of burning, -chile;, hot tortiUasj atole, or- atollir. as .the Indians call it, a species* of cakes made of very fine maize and water, and sweetened with: sugar or honey; embarrado, a favourable composition of meat and chilie, very Uke mud, as the name, imports, which! have not yet made-up my mind to endure; quantities of fresh tunas, granaditas, bananas, aguacates, and other fruits,- besides pulque a discretion. The other, people were assembled in circles miderthe trees, cooking fowls and boiling eggs in gipsy fashion, in caldrons, at little fires made with dry branches; and the band, in its intervals of tortiUas and -pulque,- favoured us with occasional airs. After breakfast, we walked out amongst -the Indians, who had formed a sort of tempo rary market, and "were selling pulque, chia, roasted chesnuts, yards of baked meat,, and every kind of fruit. We then returned to, see a LIFE IN MEXICO. 139 great bull-fight,- which was followed by more herraderos: in short, spent the whole day amongst the toros, and returned to dinner at six o'clock; some in coaches, some on horseback.: In the evening, all the people danced in a large haU; but at eleven o'clock I could look, on no longer, for, one of these days in the hot sun is very fatiguing: Ne vertheless, at two in the morning, these men, who had gone through .such violent exercise, were still danoing jarabesi 8th. — For several days we lived amongst buUs and Indians; the herraderos. continuing, with the variations of cokar, riding the bulls, &c. Not the slightest slackening in the eagerness ¦ of the men. Even a little boy of. ten years old. mounted a young-bull one day, and with great difficulty and at a great risk succeededin forcing him to gallop round the circle. His' father looked on, evidently frightened to death for the boy,'- yet too proud of his youthful prowess to attempt to stop himi. At nighty when I 'shut my -eyes, I see before -me visions of -bulls' heads. Even when asleep I hear them roaring, or seem to Usten: to the shouts of" Ah two!" The last day of. the herraderos, by way of winding up, a buU was lulled in honour of C n; and a great flag was sent streaming from a- tree, on which a flag was inscribed in large letters, "Gloria -al Senor Ministro de la Augusta ¦•Cristina!" a piece ofgaBantiy /which I rewarded with apiece of gold. The animal; when dead; is given as a. present to ¦ the ¦ toreadores; and this bull; cut in pieces, they bury withrhis skin on, in a hole in the 'ground' previously prepared, with a, fire- inj it, which is then co vered over with earth and branches. During a. certain, time it re mains baking inrthis natural oven, and the commonpeople consider it a great delicacy (in which I differfrom them). Yesterday, we cUmbed to the top of a steep mountain, whichcost us as much labour as if' it had been that, steep path which " leads to fame.'" Fortunately, it 'has -a good deal of wood, and we had an occasional rest in the shade. We mounted the hill, on horseback, as far as horses could go ; but the principal part could only be performed on' foot. Most of the party remained, half-way; - Wei reached the top, swinging ourselves up by the branches, in places where it was nearly perpendicular. We were rewarded, first by the satisfaction one always has in making good one's intentions, and next, by a won derfully fine and extensive view. Our return was more agreeable, as the weather, except in the heat of the noonday sun, is very cool in this- part of the country. The hills are covered' chiefly 'with, tunas, low firs, and numbers of shrubs with flowersand berries. Met on our retum-a horseman,' who came to announce the arrival of a guest, Sefior H , from Puebla, who proved a pleasant addition to our society. 15th. — We went out early this morning- on horseback, and break fasted at & hacienda, five leagues dlstanfrfrom Santiago, belonging to thewidow of 'sagent, a good-looking, respectable woman,, who,. alone, in this solitary place, brings up her- eight children as she best can. This may reaUy be called solitude. From, one year to the other she never sees a human being except- an occasional Indian. She is weU off, and everything in- her house is clean and comfortable. She herself manages the farm, and'educates her children to the best of her abilities, so that she never finds- time to be dull She-expected us, and gaveais breakfast (we- being -about twentydn number), con- 140 LIFE IN MEXICO. sisting of everything which that part of the country can afford ; and the party certainly did justice to her exceUent fare. She gave us pulque, fermented with the juice of the pineapple, which is very good. When the sun had gone down a little, we rode to the fine hacienda of Reyes, belonging to Sefior A , where he is making and pro-, jecting alterations and improvements. When we left Reyes it began ' to rain, and we were glad to accept the covering of scrapes, as we gaUoped over the plains. We had a delightful ride. Towards even ing the rain ceased, and the moon rose brightly and without a cloud; but we were certainly tired enough when we got home, hav ing ridden in aU ten leagues. 17th. — These two days have been passed in seeing the mules, marked. -They are even more dangerous than the bulls, as they bite, most ferociously while in their wild state. When thrown down by the lasso, they snore in the most extraordinary manner, Uke so many aldermen in an apoplectic nap. This is, perhaps, the most useful and profitable of aU Mexican ani mals. As beasts of burden and for draught, they are in use over the whole republic, and are exceUent for long journeys, being capable of enduring immense fatigue, particularly in those hilly parts of the country where there are no roads. Those which go in droves can carry about five hundred pounds weight, going at the rate of twelve or fourteen miles a-day, and in this way they can perform journeys. of more than a thousand miles. For constant use they are preferable to horses, being so much less delicate,- requiring less care, and en during more fatigue. A good pair of carriage mules wiU cost from. five hundred to a thousand doUars. After dinner we saw some of these wild creatures, that had just been caught, put into a carriage, each wild mule harnessed with a civilised one, and such kicking and flinging up of heels I never wit nessed. However, the mozos can manage anything; and in about half-an-hour, after much alternate soothing and lashing, they trotted along with the heavy coach after them, only rearing and plunging at decent intervals. Mexico, 12th. We have passed ten days in the country, taking constant exercise,, and have been obliged to return home rather sooner than we should, have wished, in order to mark Queen Ysabel's Day with a diplomatic dinner. 20th. — Our dinner has gone off as weU as could be expected. The party were twenty-six in number, consisting of his grace the arch bishop, their exceUencies of the cabinet and corps diplomatique, toge ther with Count Cortina, the Valencias, and Gorostizas. The gentle men were in full uniform, the ladies en grande toilette, the archbishop in his robes. We had a band of music in the gallery, and waUced in to the sound of the "Norma," precedence being given to the arch bishop, who took me, or rather whom I took, as I found some diffi culty in getting my arms into his robes. I believe no blunders in etiquette were committed. The dinner lasted three and a-half mor tal hours. The archbishop proposed the health of her majesty the. LIFE IN MEXICO. 141 queen, which was drunk standing, the band performing " God save the Queen." I was dreadfully tired (though in a very agreeable position), and have no doubt every one else was the same, it being eleven when we returned to the drawing-room. The archbishop's familiars, two priests who always accompany him, respectable black guards, were already in waiting. As for him, he was as kind and agreeable as usual, and, after coffee, took his de parture to the sound of music. LETTER XXIX. 21st November. We received a few days since an invitation to attend the sumptuous ' mass, annuaUy given by the Asturian Brotherhood in honour of the Virgin of Cavadonga, in the church of Santo Domingo. The invita tion being printed on blue satin, with gold lace and tassels, seems worthy of a place in a box of wax figures, which wiU be sent by the next packet. The church was superbly decorated, and only weU-dressed people were admitted. C n was carried off to a post of honour near the altar, and a padre gave me a velvet chair. The music was beautiful, but too gay for a church. There were violins and wind instruments, and several amateur players. Some pieces from the "Cheval de Bronze" were very weU played. The sermon, preached by Guerrero, a chanoine who has some reputation as an orator, contained a pru dent degree of praise of the Spaniards, and even of a king, could that king be a pelayo. 30th. — We dined yesterday at Tacubaya, where the C a family, particularly the ladies of the famUy, are in a state of the greatest uneasiness. I had just written these words when I began, to my great astonish ment, to rock up and down, chair, table, and myself. Suddenly, the room, the walls, aU began to move, and. the floor to heave like the waves of the sea ! At first I imagined that I was giddy, but almost immediately saw that it was an earthquake. We aU ran, or rather staggered as weU as we could, into the gaUery, where the servants were already ranged on their knees, praying and crossing themselves with all their might. The shock lasted above a minute and a-half, and I believe has done no injury, except in frightening the whole population and cracking a few old waUs.' All Mexico was on its knees while it lasted, even the poor madmen in San Hipolito, which A had gone to visit in company with SeEor ...... I have had a feeling of sea-sickness ever since. They expect a return of the shock in twenty-four hours. How dreadful a severe earthquake must be ! How terrible it is to feel this heaving of the solid earth, -to lose our confidence ia its security, and to be reminded that the elements of destruction, which lurk beneath om- feet, are yet swifter and more powerful to destroy than those which are above us! ' •*. /• I cannot help laughing yet at the recoUection of the face of a poor 142 LIFE IN MEXICO. Uttle clerk who had just entered the house "with a packet of letters for C n. He did not kneel, hut sat down upon the steps as pale as .death, looking as "cream-faced" as the messenger' to Macbeth ; and when the shock was over, he was so sick that he ran out of the house without making any remaarks. The scarlet hucamaya,*vriih a loud shriek, flew from its perch,: and performed a zigzag flightthrough the air, down to the troubled fountain in the court. AU the furniture we ordered from the United States arrived some time ago, a mass of legs and arms. Tables, wardrobes, &c. were, I beUeve, aU sold for the mahogany, at Vera Cruz. The mirrors also arrived in powder. This must be owing to bad packing, since our most deUcate things from London, such -as crystal, ' porcelain, &c. have arrived in exceUent condition. 20th December. — This morning, we rode to San Joaquin, where we met the prior, on his way to Mexico to confess the old prioress of the convent of Santa Teresa. He turned back, and accompanied us during all the rest of our ride. He rode with us to Tacubaya, round the traces of the ruins, and to the fine old church and d&mantled convent, where we (dismounted, and having taken off our riding- hats,, accompanied the prior through the deserted cloisters into the old church ; and I imagine we must have looked very picturesque, I -in my riding-habit, and the sandaUed friar in his -.white robes, kneeUng side by side, on the broken steps of the altar. He -is.-so pleasantand weU-informed that he is a particularly agreeable- com panion. LETTER. XXX. , 25th December., CfiKiSTMAs-DAY ! One year this' evening since we made our. entry into' Mexico. What a different aspect everything has assumed' to us in one year ! Then every obj ect was new, every face that of a stranger. Now we are surrounded by famiUar sights and sounds, and, above aU; by friendly faces. But though novelty, which has its. charms and also its desdgrimens, has gone, nothing in Mexico ever appears common place. Everything is on a large scale, and'everything is picturesque. Then there is so much interest attached to its old buildings-^so much to see, even though there are no sights and no show-places, unless we are to put in that class the iMineria, Museum, Cathedral, University, and'Botanics Garden, usually visited by traveUers — that at -whatever period wemay leave it, I feel convinced we shaU regret some point of interest that we have left unvisited. Some days ago coloured cards, printed in gilt letters, were sent round, inviting aU the senator's frierids to the mass, in this form :— J e B o G -a requests that you will Honour him with your presence and that of your family, in the solemn function of kalends and mass, with which he annually makes an humble" remembrance of the birth of the Saviour, which"festivity will take place on the morning of the 24th of this month, at nine o'clock, in --the parish church of the < Sagrario ofthe-Holy Cathedral. _ ...Mexico,' December, J 840. UFE IN MEXICO. 143 By nine we were aU assembled in the choir; Don B— — d in his uniform, daTk blue and gold, we in mantittas. The church looked very splendid, and,, as usual onthese occasions, no ieperos admit ted; therefore the crowd was very elegant .and select. The affair went off brilliantly. Four or five: of the- 'girls, and several of the mar ried women, have superb voices; and not one of aUthose who sang in chorus has. a bad voice. The finest I almost ever heard is that of the Sefiorita C . Were-she to study in Italy, I venture to predict that she might rival Grisi. Such depth, power,' extension, and sweet ness, with such richness of tone In the upper notes, are very rarely united. She sang a solo in such tones that I thought the people below must have felt inclined to applaud. There are others whose voices are much more cultivated,- and who have ,'irifinitely more science. I. speak only of the raw 'material The .orchestra was reaUy good, and led by a- first-rate musician. - 1 was thankful when my part of the entertainment was over, and I could give my:undivided attention to theothers. The' celebration lasted four hours,- but there was rather a long-sermon. You will shortly receive a detailed.ac- count Of thewhole, which isito be published:inthe..Mexicani annual, caUed "The Ladies' Guide." This is the, last night of what-are called the Posadas, a curious mix ture of religion and amusement, but extremely pretty. , The meaning is this : At the time that the decree- went forth. from Cajsar Augustus, that "all the world should.be-taxed," the Virgin and.Joseph, having come out of -Galilee to Judea to-be inscribed for the taxation, found Bethlehem so full .of people, who .hadarrived-from: all parts of .the world, that they wandered about for .nine days, without, finding ad mittance into any house or.tavern, andonthe ninth day took shelter in a manger, where the Saviour was-born. For eight-days this wan dering of theiHoly Family to the different posadas is represented, and seems more intended for/an amusement to the children than any thing serious. We went, to ithe marquesa's at .eight o'clock, and about nine the. oeremony commenced. ; Alightedlaper was put into the hands of .each lady, and a procession was- formed, two by two, which marched all through the.house,ithe '.corridors, and waUs'-of which were all decorated with evergreens andlamps,. the whole party singing the Utanies. K — — walked with the dowager, marquesa; and a group of Uttle children, dressed as angels, joined.the proces sion. They wore httfe.Tobes of sttver or gold llama, plumes of white feathers, and a profusion of fine diamonds and pearls, in bandeaux, brooches, and necklaces, white gauze wings, -and- white : satin shoes, embroidered in gold. Atlast the procession drew up.before a door, and a shower of fire works was - sent flying over ¦ our heads,- I suppose to represent the descent of the 'angels; for a group ofladjes appeared, dressed to: re present the shepherds who- watched their flocks by night upon the plains of Bethlehem. Then voices, supposed ,.to be "those of Mary and Joseph, struck nip a hymn, in which they begged for admittance, saying- that the night was. Gold and dark, that the wind blew hard, and that they prayed for a, night's: shelter. A chorus of voices from within refused admittance. Again those without , entreated shelter, andat length declared: that: she at the door, who thus wandered, in the night, and had not where to' lay her head,- was the; Queen ;pf Heaven ! At this name the doors were thrown wide open, and ' the 144 LIFE IN MEXICO. Holy FamUy entered singing. . The scene within was very pretty : sa, nadmiento. Platforms, stretching aU round the room, were covered with moss,. on which were disposed groups of wax figures, generally Tepresenting passages from different parts of the New Testament, though sometimes they begin with Adam and Eve in paradise. There were the Annunciation, the Salutation of Mary to Elizabeth, the Wise Men' of the East, the Shepherds, the FUght into Egypt. There were green trees and fruit trees, and Uttle fountains that- cast up fairy columns of water, and flocks of sheep, and a little cradle in which to lay the Infant Christ. One of the angels held a waxen baby in her arms. The whole was lighted very briUiantly, and or namented with flowers and garlands. A padre took the baby from the angel, and placed it in the cradle, and the posada was completed. We then returned to the drawing-room ; angels, shepherds, and aU, and danced tiU supper-time. The supper was a show for sweet meats and cakes. 27th. — We had a, very crowded party last evening, I think the best we have had yet; a fact which I mentidn, because I triumph in my opinion, that these weekly parties would succeed in Mexico, having proved correct. I have lately been engaged in search of a cook, with as much per tinacity as Japhet in search of his father, and with as little success as he had in his preliminary inquiries. One, a Frenchman, I found ©ut had been tried for mmder ; another was said to be deranged ; a third, who announced himself as the greatest artiste who had yet condescended to visit Mexico, demanded a salary which he con sidered suitable to his abilities. I tried a female Mexican, in spite of her flowing hair. She seemed a, decent woman and tolerable cook: and, although our French housekeeper and prime minister had deserted us at om- utmost need, we ventured to leave the house, and to spend the day at Tacubaya. On our return, found the whole establishment unable to stand ! Cook tipsy, soldiers ditto, galopina ¦sUghtry intoxicated : in short, the house talcing care of itself; no standing force but the coachman and footman, who have been with nis some time, and appear to be exceUent servants. I am, however, promised a good Mexican housekeeper, and trust that some order -wiU be estabUshed under her government; also, a Chinese cook, with a celestial character. Letters from Spain, announcing the speedy arrival of a secretary of legation and another attache. 1st January, 1841. — A happy New Year to all! We began it by attending early mass in San Francisco, about the cleanest church in Mexico, and most frequented by the better classes. There you may have the good fortune to place yourself between two well-dressed women, but you are equally likely to find your neighbour a beggar with a blanket ; besides, the floor is nearly as dirty as that of the cathedral. This dirtiness is certainly one of the greatest drawbacks to human feUcity in this beautiful country, degrading the noble edifices dedicated to the worship of God, and destroying the beautiful works destined for the benefit of his creatures. The streets, the churches, the theatres, the market-place, the people, aU are con taminated by this evil. The market-place is indeed fuU of flowers* and green branches, and garlands; but those who sell the flowers; and weave the wreaths are so dirty, that the effect of what wouM LIFE IN MEXICO. 145 otherwise be the prettiest possible picture is completely destroyed. In the theatre there are a series of suffocating odours, especially in the dimly-lighted corridors, which are anything but agreeable. The custom of kneeUng on the floor in church seems fitting and devout ; but there surely can be no reason why the floor of a sacred building should not be kept scrupulously clean, or why the lower classes should not be obUged to dress themselves with common decency. Those who are unable to do so, though probably there are not half-a- dozen people in Mexico who do not wear rags merely from indolence, should certainly have a place set apart for them, in which case this air of squalid poverty would no doubt disappear. On occasion . of any particular fete, the church is washed and beggars are excluded, and then indeed these noble edifices seem fitting temples wherein to worship the Most High. f On other days, in addition to the leperos (especiaUy in the cathe dral), the Indian women are in the habit of bringing their babies and baskets of vegetables to church, and the babies on their part are in the habit of screaming, as babies wiU when they consider themselves neglected. This may be difficult to amend, the poor woman having come in from her village, and perforce brought her progeny with her ; but the strong, stout man in rags, who prefers begging to work ing ; the half-naked woman who would consider herself degraded by doing anything to better her condition, except asking for alms ; the - dogs which wander up and down during divine service ; all these might be brought to order by proper regulations. Notwithstanding,aU these drawbacks, I have sometimes compared in. my own mind, the appearance of a fashionable London chapel with that of a Mexican church on the occasion of a solemn fete, and the comparison is certainly in favour of the latter. The one light, airy, and gay, with its velvet-lined pews, its fashionable preacher, the ladies a little sleepy after the last night's opera, but dressed in the most elegant morning toilet, and casting furtive glances at Lady 's bonnet and feathers, and at Mrs. • 's cashmere shawl or lovely ermine pehsse, and exchanging a few fashionable nothings at the door, as the footmen let down the steps of their gay equipages ; the other solemn, stately, and gloomy, and showing no distinction of rank; the floor covered with kneeling figures, some enveloped in the rebozo, others in the mantiUa, and all aUke devout, at least in outward seeming; no showy dress, nor gay bonnet, nor fashion able mantle, to cause the eye of the poor to wander with envy or admiration. Apparently considering themselves alike in the sight of heaven, the peasant and the marquesa kneel side by side, with little distinction of dress; and all appeared occupied With'their own devotions, without observing either their neighbour's dress or degree of deyoutness. Religious feeling may be equaUy strong in the frequenters of both places of worship; but as long as we possess . senses which can be affected' by external objects, the probabilities of the most undivided devotional feeling are in favour of the latter. The eye will wander; the thoughts wiU foUow where it leads. , In the one case it rests on elegant forms and fashionable toilets ; in the other, it sees nothing but a mass of dark and kneeling figures, or a representation of holy and Scriptural subjects. However,1 one consequence of the exceeding dirtiness of the Mexican churches, and the number of leperos who haunt them, as much in the E 146 LIFE IN MEXICO. way of their caUing as from devotion, is, that a great part of the principal famUies here, having oratories in their houses, have engaged the services of a padre and have mass at home. There is a smaU chapel in the house of General B -a, the handsomest house in Mexico, where there is a Virgin carved in wood : one of the most exquisite pieces of sculpture that can be seen. The face is more than angelic : it is divine ; but a divine nature suffering mortal anguish. 27th. — On the first of February we hope to set off on an expedition to the tierra caliente, from which C n returned some time ago. We have, by good fortune, procured an exceUent Mexican house keeper, under whose auspices everything has assumed a very different aspect, and to whose care we can entrust the house when we go. Nothing remarkable has occurred here lately; the usual routine of riding on horseback, visiting in carriage, walking very rarely in the Alameda, driving in the Paseo, dining at Tacubaya, the three weekly soirees, varied by a diplomatic dinner in the'house of the minister, and by the dinner of the EngUsh club, who met here yesterday ; by a sale of books after dinner, in which the president of the society fined me five doUars for keeping a stupid old poem past the time, upon -which I moved that the poem should be presented to me, which was carried nem. con. We have been strongly advised not to attempt this journey, and the stories of robbers and robberies, related by credible persons, are not encouraging. Robbers, bad roads, horrible heat, poisonous animals : many are the difficulties prognosticated to us. The season is already rather advanced, but it has been impossible for us to set off sooner. Our next letters will be written either during our j ourney, should we find the opportunity, or after om- return. LETTER XXXI. Atlacamulco, 2nd February. A quiet day in a hospitable country-house, too sunny to go out, and nothing else to do, are temptations sufficient to induce me to sit down and give you an account of our proceedings during these last two days. Yesterday, the first of February, at four in the morning, very sleepy, we set off in the dUigence which we had taken for our selves ; our sole luggage, two portmanteaux and a carpet bag ; our dresses, dark strong calico gowns, large Panama hats, rebozos tied on Uke scarfs, and thick green barege veils. A government escort of four soldiers with a corporal, renewed four times, accompanied us as far as Cuernavaca, which is about eighteen leagues from Mexico, and the entrance, as it were, to the tierra caliente. These are supposed sufficient to frighten away three times the number of robbers, whose daring, however, has got to such a height, that no diligence now arrives from Puebla without being robbed. Six robberies have happened there in the last fortnight, and the road to Cuernavaca is said to be stiU more dangerous. We took chocolate before starting, LIFE IN MEXICO. 1.47 and carried with us a basket of cold meat- and wine, as there is nothing on the road that can be called am inn. When we set off it. was cool, almost cold ; the astrallamps were out, and the great solar lamp was not yet lighted* But'?oOn, like lobster boiled, the morn From black to red be£an to turn. By the time we had reached San Agustin, where, we changed horses, the sun had risen, enabling us to see all the horrors of the road, which, afer leaving that beautiful village with its trees and gardens, winds over the mountain, amongst great volcanic rocks, a toilsome asoent and passes by the village of Ajnnsco, a miserable robber's nest. Yet the view, as we looked back from this 'barren tract, while the sun was breaking over the summits of the moun tains, was very grand in its mixture of fertility and wildness, in its- vast extent of plains and villages with, their groves and gardens, and in its fine view of Mexico itself, white and glittering in the distanca The mountain of Aj.usco, clothed with dark forests of pine, frowned- on our right, and looked worthy of its brigand-haunted reputatioafc At La Guarda, a- collection of miserable huts, we changed horses,. and declined some suspicious-looking frijoles in dirty saucers, which were offered to us; a proof both that we were young travellers in this country, and' that we had not exhausted our basket of civilized provender. The road wound round through a succession of rocks and woods till we reached Cruz del Marques : the marquis being of course Cortez, while the cross,, it is- said, was plan-ted there by him to mark the limits of his territory, or rather of that which the Indian emperor had assigned him. About two o'clock the heat beeame intense, and we began to see and to feel symptoms of ow approach to the We arrived . at the Indian village of Huichilaque, which is- rather pretty, with cane cottages and a good many flowering trees ; and from the eminence on which it is situated the hot land is visible. The diligence now began galloping down the rocky and stony de scent. The couatry looked even more arid than before •„ the vegeta tion more dried up. Not a tree ; but here and there, at long intervals, a feathery cocoa or a palm, and occasionaUy some beautiful, unknown wild flowers. But the heat, the dust, the jolting! When at length we- rattled through Cuernavaca, and stopped before the quiet-looking inn, it was with j oy that we bade adieu, for some time at least, to- all diligences, coaches, and carriages, having to trust for the future to four-legged conveyances, which we can guide as we please. ^Cuernavaca (cow's horn), the ancient Quauhnahuac, was one Of the thirty cities which Charles the Fifth gave to Cortes, and afterwards formed part of the estates of the Duke of Momteleone, representative of the family of Cortes, as Marquis of the Valley of Oajaca. It was celebrated by the ancient writers for its beauty, its delightful climate, and the strength of its situation; defended on one side by steep mountains, and on- the other by a precipitous ravine, through which ran a stream which the Spaniards crossed by means of two great trees that had thrown their branches aeross the barranca, and formed 148 LIFE IN MEXICO. a natural bridge. It was the capital of the Tlahuica nation, and, after the conquest, Cortes built here a splendid palace, a church, and a convent of Franciscans, believing that he had laid the foundation of a great city. And in fact, its deUcious climate, the abundance of the water, the minerals said to exist in the neighbourhood, its fine trees, delicious fruits, and vicinity to the capital, aU combined to render it a flourishing city. It is, however, a place of little import ance, though so favoured by nature ; and the conqueror's palace is a half-ruined barrack, though a most picturesque object, standing on a hiU, behind which starts up the great white volcano. There are some good houses, and the remains of the church which Cortes bunt, cele brated for its bold arch ; but we were too tired to walk about much, and waited most anxiously for the arrival of horses and men from the sugar estate of Don Anselmo Zurutuza, at Atlacamulco, where we were to pass the night. The house where the diligence stopped was formerly remarkable for the fine garden attached to it, and belonged to a wealthy proprie tor. We sat down amongst the fruit-trees, by the side of a clear tank, and waited there tiU the arrival of our horses and guides. It was nearly dusk when they came ; the sun had gone down, the even ing was cool and agreeable ; " and after much kicking, and spurring, and loading of mules, and barking of dogs, we set off over hill and dale, through pretty wild scenery, as far as we could distinguish by the faint light, climbing hiUs and crossing streams for two leagues ; till at length the fierce fires, pouring from the sugar oven chimneys of Atlacamulco, gave us notice that we were near our haven for the night. We galloped into the court-yard, amongst dogs, and negroes, and Indians, and were hospitably received by the administrador (the agent). Greatly were we divided between sleep and hunger ; but hunger gained the victory, and an immense smoking supper received our most distinguished attention. This morning, after a refreshing sleep, we rose and dressed at eight o'clock — late hours for the tierra caliente, and then went out into the coffee plantation and orange walk. Anything so lovely ! The orange- trees were covered with their golden fruit and fragrant blossoms ; the lemon-trees, bending over, formed a natural arch, which the sun could not pierce. We laid ourselves down on the soft grass, con trasting this day with the preceding. The air was soft and balmy, and actuaUy heavy with the fragrance of the orange blossom and starry jasmine. AU round the orchard ran streams of the most deU cious clear water, trickling with sweet music ; and now and then a little cardinal, like a bright red ruby, would perch on the trees. We pulled bouquets of orange blossom, jasmine, lilies, double red roses, and lemon leaves, and wished we could have transported them to you, to those lands where winter is now wrapping the world in his white winding-sheet. The gardener, or coffee-planter — such a gardener! — Don Juan by name, with an immense black beard, Mexican hat, and military sash of crimson silk, came to offer us some orangeade ; and having sent to the house for sugar and tumblers, puUed the oranges from the trees, and drew the water from a clear tank overshadowed by blos soming branches, and cold as though it had been iced. There cer tainly is no tree more beautiful than the orange, with its golden fruit, shining green leaves, and lovely white blossoms, with so deU- LIFE IN MEXICO. 149 cious a fragrance. ' We felt this morning as if Atlacamulco were an earthly paradise. As for the interior of these haciendas, they are aU pretty much alike, so far as we have seen : a great stone building, which is neither farm nor county -house (according to our notions), but has a, cha racter peculiar to itself : solid enough to stand a siege, with ¦floors of painted brick, large deal tables, wooden benches, painted chairs, and whitewashed waUs ; one or tvfo painted or iron bedsteads, only put up when wanted ; numberless empty rooms ; kitchen and out-houses ; the court-yard a great square, round which stand the house for boil ing the sugar, with furnaces blazing day and night ; the house with machinery for extracting the juice from the cane, the refining-rooms, the places where it is dried, &c. all on a large scale. If the hacienda is, as here, a coffee plantation also, then there is the great mill for separating the beans from the chaff, and sometimes also there are buddings where they make brandy. Here there are four hundred men employed, exclusive of boys, one hundred horses, and a number of mules. The property is generally very extensive, containing the fields of sugar-cane, plains for cattle, and the pretty plantations of coffee, so green and spring-like; this one containing upwards of fifty thousand young plants, all fresh and vigorous, besides a great deal of uncultivated ground, abandoned to the deer, and hares, and quails, of which there are great abundance. For four months in the year the tierra caliente must be a paradise, and it has the advantage over the coasts, in being quite free from yellow fever. But the heat in summer, and the number of poisonous insects, are great draw backs. Of these, the alacrans, or scorpions, which haunt all the houses, are amongst the worst. Their sting is poisonous, and, to a child, deadly, which is one of the many reasons why these estates are left entirely to the charge of an agent, and though visited occa sionally by the proprietor, rarely lived in by the famtty. The effects. are more or less violent in different constitutions. Some persons will remain for eight days in convulsions, foaming at the mouth, and the stomach sweUed as if by dropsy ; others, by immediate remedies, do not suffer much.. The chief cures are brandy, taken in sufficient quantities to stupify the patient, guiacum and boiled silk, which last is considered most efficacious. In Durango they are particularly numerous and venomous, so that a reward is given for so many head of scorpions to the boys there, to encourage them to destroy them. The Sefiora , who lives there, feels no inconvenience from their sting, but the scorpion which stings her immediately dies! It is pretended that they prefer dark people to fair, which is to suppose them very discriminating. Though as yet there have been few seen in the houses, I must confess that we feel rather uneasy at night, and scrupulously examine our beds and their environs before venturing to go to sleep. The waUs being purposely whitewashed, it is not. difficult to detect them ; but where the roofs are formed of beams,' they are very apt to drop through. There are other venomous reptiles, for whose sting there is no re medy ; and if you would Uke to have a list of these interesting crea tures, according to the names by which they are known in these parts, I can furnish you with one from the best authority. These, however, are generally to be found about outhouses, and only occa sionaUy visit your apartments. There is the chicaclina, a striped 150 LIFE IN MEXICO. m viper of beautiful colours; the coralMo, a viper of a coral colour with a black head; the vinagrillo, an animal Uke a large cricket. You can discover it, when in the room, by its strong smeUof vine gar. It is orange-coloured, and taps upon the person whom it crawls over, without giving any pain, but leaving a long train of deadly poison. I have fancied that I smelt vinegar in every room Since hearing this. The salamomquesa, whose bite is fatal : it is shaped Uke a Uzard ; the eslabondllo, which throws itself upon you, and if prevented from biting you, dies of spite ; the eencoatl, which has five feet, and shines in the dark ; so that fortunately a warning is given of the vicinity of these animals in different ways ; in some by the odour they exhale, in some by the Ught they emit, and in others, Uke the rattlesnake, by the sound they give out. Then there is a beautifid black and red spider, caUed the chincla- guili, whose sting sends a pain through aU your bones; the only cure for which is to be shut up for several days in a room thick with smoke. There are also the tarantula and casampulga spiders. Of the first, which is a shocking-looking, soft, fat creature, covered with dark hair, it is said, that the horse which treads on it instantly loses its hoof; but this wants confirmation. Of the scorpions, the smaU yeUowiSh-coloured ones are the most dangerous, and it is pretended that their sting is most to be apprehended at mid-day. The work men occasionaUy eat them, after pulling out the sting. The flesh of the viper is also eaten roasted, as a remedy against eruptions of , the skin. Methinks the remedy is worse than the disease. As we are very anxious to visit the celebrated -cave of Cacaua- milpa, near the city of Cautlamilpa, and also to see as much of the tierra caliente as possible, we have determined, though with regret, to leave our pleasant quarters at Atlacamulco to-morrow morning, at two o'clock, a.m. As there are no inns, we are furnished with letters of recommendation to the proprietors of the chief haciendas in these parts. Formerly, there was so muoh hospitaUty here that an annual sum (three thousand doUars, it is said) was assigned by the proprietors to their agents for the reception of traveUers, whether rich or poor, and whether recommended or not. . . . Our plan of visiting the cave has been nearly frustrated by the arrival of General C s, a neighbouring proprietor, who assured us that we were going to undertake an impossibiUty ; that the bar! rancas, by which we must pass to arrive at the cave, were impassa ble for women, the mountain paths being so steep and perpendi cular, that men and > horses had frequently faUen 'backwards in the ascent, or been plunged forward over the precipices, in attempting to descend. We were in despair, when it was suggested that there was another, though much longer road to the cave, by which we might ride; and though our time is at present very precious, we were too glad to agree to this compromise. LIFE IN MEXICO. 151 LETTER XXXII. Cocoyotla; 5th. On the morning of the 3rd of February, we rose about half-past two, and a little after three, by the light of the stars and the blaze of the sugar-fires, our whole party were assembled on horseback in the court-yard. We were about twelve in number. Don Juan, the coffee-planter, and Don Pedro, a friend of his, were deputed by the agent to act as our guides. Four or five well-armed mozos (farm- servants) were our escort, together with our Mexican boy ; and we had mules to cany our luggage, which was compressed into the smallest possible compass. The morning was perfectly enchanting, and the air like balm, when we set off by this uncertain light; not on roads (much to our satisfaction), but through fields and over streams, up hills and down into valleys, climbing among stones, the horses picking their way like goats. I certainly never felt or ima gined such an atmosphere. The mere inhaling it was sufficient pleasure. When the light gradually 'began to dawn, so that we could dis cern each other's faces, and make sure that we were not- a party of shadows — for besides the obscurity, a mixture of sleepiness and placid deUght had hitherto kept us all silent — we looked round on the landscape, as little by little it assumed form and consistency. The fires from the hacienda- were still visible, but growing pale in the beams of morning, vanishing like false visions from before the holy light of truth. As we rode along,, we found that the scenery on the hilly parts was generaUy bleak and sterile, the grass dried up, and very little vegetation; but wherever we arrived at a valley sheltered from the sun's rays, there we found a Uttle rivulet trick- Ung through it, with water Uke liquid diamonds, bathing the trees and the flowers ; the loveliest blossoming trees, mingled with bananas, oranges, and lemons, and interspersed with bright flowers, forming a natural garden and orchard. Leaving these beautiful and fertile lands that adorn the slopes^and bases of the hills, you mount again up the steep.paths, and again you find the grass dried up, and no vegetation but stunted nopals or mi serable-looking blue-green magueys. Yet sometimes in the most desert spot, a little sheltered by a projecting hiU, you come upon the most beautiful tree, bending with rich blossoms, standing all alone, as if through ambition it had deserted its lowly sisters in the vaUey, and stood, in its exalted station, solitary and companionless. After six hours' good riding, our guides pointed out to us the for midable barrancas at some distance,, and expressed their opinion, that, with great caution, our horses being very sure-footed, we might venture to pass them, by which means we should save three leagues, 152 LIFE IN MEXICO. and be enabled to reach a hacienda within six leagues of the cave that night ; and after some dehberation, it was agreed that the at tempt should be made. These barrancas (the word UteraUy means a ravine or mountain gully) are two mountains, one behind the. other, which it is necessary to cross by a narrow path, that looks like a road for goats. We began the ascent in silence and some fear, one by one, till the horses were nearly perpendicular. It lasted about twenty minutes ; and we then began to descend slowly, certainly not without some danger of being thrown over our horses' heads. How ever, we arrived in safety at the end of the first mountain, and this being accomplished, drew up to rest our horses and mules beside a beautiful clear stream, bordered by flowering trees. Here some clear-headed individual of the party proposed that we should open our hamper, containing cold chicken, hard eggs, sherry, &c. ; ob serving that it was time to be hungry. His suggestion was agreed to without a dissenting voice, and a napkin being spread under a shady tree, no time was lost in proving the truth of his observation. A very ingenious contrivance for making a wine-glass by washing an egg shell in the stream, is worthy of record. When we had demoUshed the cold chicken, the mozos surrounded the cold meat, and after ga thering branches covered with beautiful flowers, with which we or namented our horses' heads and our own hats, we prepared to ascend the second mountain. This is as steep, or nearly as steep as the first ; but we were already confident in the sure-footedness of our horses, and even able to admire the view as we ascended single file. After much rain, this path must of course be completely impassable. The day had now become oppressively warm, though it was not later than eleven o'clock; and having passed the hills, we came to a dusty high-road, which, about twelve, brought us to the hacienda of Mea- catlan, belonging to the family of Perez Palacio. We were overtaken on the road by the eldest son of the proprietor, who cordiaUy invited us in, and introduced us to the ladies of his family, and to his father, ,a fine, noble-looking old gentleman. As we were excessively tired, hot, and dusty, we were very glad to spend a few hours here during the heat of the sun; and after joining the family at breakfast, con- sisting of the most extraordinary variety of exceUent dishes, with a profusion of fine fruits and curious sweetmeats (amongst which was that ethereal-looking production caUed angel's hair, cdbello de angel), we were glad to lie down and rest tiU four o'clock. We left this hospitable mansion about four o'clock, rested and re freshed, the proprietor giving K a horse of his, instead of her own, which was tired. The sun was stiU powerful when we and our train remounted, but the evening had become deUghtfully cool by the time that we had reached the beautiful village of San Francisco de Tetecala, lying amongst wooded hiUs, its white houses gleaming out from amidst the orange trees, with a smaU river, crossed by bridges, running through it. About ten o'clock symptoms of weariness began to break out amongst us, spite of moonbeams and orange-buds, when down in a vaUey we saw the sugar-fires of Cocoyotla, the hacienda to which we trusted for our next place of shelter, darting out their fierce red tongues amongst the trees. We knocked for admittance at the great gate, and it was some time before the people within would undo the fastenings, which they did with great caution and after carefuUy re- LIFE IN MEXICO; 153 connoitring us; afterwards giving for excuse that a party of thirty robbers had passed by the night before, and that they thought we might have been some of these ra'i/AZ-errants. We sent in our cre dentials to the proprietor, an old gentleman married to a young wife, who, living on the road to the cave, is by no means pleased at his house being turned into a posada for all and sundry, and com plained bitterly of a party of Englishmen who had passed by some time before, "and the only Spanish word they could say was voter, by which they meant agua — caramba!" However, he was very hos pitable to us, and pressed us to remain there the following day, and rest ourselves and our horses after our fourteen leagues' march, pre vious to going on to the cave. A very good supper and a very sound sleep were refreshing, and the whole of the next day we spent in wandering about or sitting lazily amongst the magnificent orange-trees and cocoas of this fine hacienda. Here the orange-trees are the loftiest we had yet seen: long ranges of noble trees loaded with fruit and flowers. At the back of the house is a smaU grove of cocoas, and a clear running stream passing through beautiful flowers, and refreshing everything in its course. Indeed, all through the tierra caliente, except on the, barren hills, there is a profusion of the most deUcious water, here at once a necessity and a luxury. These sugar estates are under high cultivation, thecropsabundant, and the water is always more than sufficient both for the purposes of irrigation and for machinery, which A considers equal to any thing he has seen in Jamaica. They produce annuatty from thirty to fifty thousand arrobas of sugar. The labourers are free Indians, and are paid from two and a-half to six and a-half reals per day. I believe that about one hundred and fifty are sufficient for working a large estate. Bountiful nature, walking on the traces of civil war, fills up the ravages caused by sanguinary revolutions; and these estates in the valley of Cuernavaca, which have so frequently been theatres of bloodshed, and have so often changed proprietors, remain in themselves as fertile and productive as ever. In the evening we visited the trapiche, as they call the sugar- works, the sugar-boilers, warehouses, store-rooms, and engines. The heat is so intense among these great boilers, that we could not endure it for more than a few minutes, and pitied the men who have to spend their lives in this work. They make panoja on this estate : cakes of coarse sugar, which- the common people prefer to the refined sugar. Just as we were preparing to retire for the night, an animal on the wall attracted our attention, close by K 's bed ; and gentle reader, it was a scorpion ! We gave a simultaneous cry, which brought Sefior into the room, who ¦ laughed at our fears, and kiUed our foe ; when lo ! just as our fright had passed away, another, a yellowish- coloured, venomous-looking creature, appeared stealing along the wall. The lady of the house came this time, and ordered the room and the beds to be searched. No more could be discovered, but it was difficult to sleep in peace after such an apparition. At three the next morning we rose, and set off by moon and star- Ught for the cave. The morning was lovely as usual, and quite cool. We passed a great deal of barren and hftty road, till we reached some plains, where we had a deUghtful gaUop, and arrived early at a small rancho, or farm-house, where we were to procure guides for the cave. 154 LIFE IN MEXICO. Here we added four Indians, and the master of the house, Benito, to our party, which was afterwards increased by numbers of men and boys, till we formed a perfect regiment. This Uttle rancho, with its small garden;, was very clean and neat. The woman of the house told us she had seen no ladies since an EngUsh ministra had slept there two nights. We concluded that this must have been Mrs. Ashburnham, who spent two days in exploring the cave. We con tinued our ride over loose stones, and dry, rocky hiUs, where, were not the horses sure-footed and used to climb, the riders' necks.would no doubt suffer. Within about a quarter of a mile of the cave, after leaving on our right the pretty village of Cautlamilpas, we found our selves in a place which I consider much more dangerous than even the barrancas near Meacatlan : a narrow path, overhanging a perpen dicular cliff, with just room for the horses' feet, affording the comfort able assurance that one false step would precipitate you to the bottom. I confess to having held my breath, as one by one, and step by step, no one looking to the right or the left, our gowns occasionaUy catch ing on a bush, with our whole train we wound slowly down this nar row descent. Arrived near the mouth of the cave, -we dismounted, and climbed our way among stones and gravel to the great mountain opening. But an account of the cave itself must be reserved tiU our return to Atlacamulco. LETTER XXXIII. Atlacamulco, 7th. The cave of Cacahuamilpa, whose actual wonders equal the fabled descriptions of the palaces of genii, was, until lately, known to the Indians alone, or, if the Spaniards formerly knew anything about it, its existence was forgotten amongst them. But although in former days it may have been used as a place of worship, a superstitious fear prevented the more modern Indians from exploring its shining re cesses ; for here it was firmly believed the Evil Spirit had his dwel ling, and in the form of a goat, with long beard and horns, guarded the entrance of the cavern. The few who ventured there and beheld this apparition, brought back strange tales to their credulous com panions, and even the neighbourhood of the enchanted cave was avoided, especially at nightfalL The chain of mountains into the bosom of which it leads is bleak and bare ; but the ravine below is refreshed by a rapid stream, that forms smaU waterfalls as it tumbles over the rocks, and is bordered by green and flowering trees. Amongst these is one with a smooth, satin-like bark, of a pale golden colour, whose roots have something snakish and witch-like in their appearance, intertwining with each other, grappling as it were with'the hard rock, and stretching out to the most extraordinary distance. We arrived at the entrance of the cave, a superb portal; upwards of seventy feet high and one hundred and fifty wide, according to the computation of a learned traveUer ; the rocks which support the great arch so symmetricaUy disposed as to resemble a work of art. LIFE IN MEXICO. 155 The sun was already high in the heavens, shining with intense ¦brightness on the wild scenery that surrounded us — .the rocks, and trees, and rushing waters; a sensation of awe came over us as we stood at the mouth of the cave, and, turning from day to night, strained our eyes to look down a deep descent into a gigantic vaulted hall, faintly lighted by the red embers ,of a fire which the Indians had kindled near the entrance. We made our way down a declivity of, it may be, one hundred and fifty feet, surrounded by blocks of stone and rock, and remained lost in astonishment at finding our selves in this gloomy subterranean palace, surrounded by the most extraordinary, gigantic, and 'mysterious forms, which it is scarcely possible to believe are the fantastic productions of the water that constantly triokles from the roof. I am. shocked to confess it — I would prefer passing it, over : we had tasted nothing that morning, and we had ridden for eight hours, and were dying of hunger ! Moreover, we travelled with a cook, a very tolerable native artist, but without sentiment — his heart in his-stew- pan ; and he, without the least compunction, had begun his frying and broiling operations in what seemed the very vestibule of Pha raoh's palace. Our own mozos and our Indian guides were assisting his operations with the utmost zeal ; and in a few minutes, some sitting round the fire, and others upon broken pyramids, we re . freshed ourselves with fried chicken, bread, and hard eggs, before proceeding farther on our exploring expedition. Unromantic as this proceeding was, we looked, Indians and all, rather awful, with no other light than the ruddy glare of the fire, nickering upon the strange, gigantic forms in that vast labyrinth; and as to what we felt, our valour and strength of mind were increased sevenfold. Twenty -four huge pine torches were then lighted, each man carry ing one. To K and me were-given lighted wax candles, in case by accident any one should go astray from his companions, and lose hisway, as would too certainly happen, in the different windings, and ga}leries,:and compartments of the cave, and be alone in the darkness ! We walked on in awe and wonder, the guides lighting up the sides of -the cavern with their torches. Unfortunately, it is -indescribable ; as -in the fantastic forms of -the clouds, every one sees some different creation of his fancy in these stupendous masses. It is said that the first sola (for travellers have pretended to divide it into halls, and a very little imagination may do so,) is about two hundred feet long, one hundred and seventy wide, and one hundred and fifty in height — a noble apartment The waUs are shaded with different colours of green and orange ; great sheets of stalactites hang from the roof; and white phantoms, palm-trees, lofty piUars, pyramids, .porches, and a thousand other Illusions, surround us on all sides. One figure, con cerning which all agree, is a long-haired goat, the Evil One in that form. But some one has broken the head, perhaps to show the power- lessness of the enchanted guardian of the cave. Some say that there are no living animals here, but there is no doubt that there are bats; " and an exploring party, who passed the night here, not only heard the hissing of the rattlesnake, but were startled by the apparition of ' a -fierce leopaid, whose loud roarings were echoed amongst the vaults, and who, after gazing at them by the light of the torches, stalked majestically back into the darkness. We passed on into the second sala, coUeoting as we went frag- 156 LIFE IN MEXICO. ments of the shining stones, our awe and astonishment increasing at every step. Sometimes we seemed to be in a subterranean Egyptian temple. The architecture was decidedly Egyptian, and the strange forms of the animal resembled those of the uncouth Egyptian idols ; which, together with the pyramids and obelisks, made me think that perhaps that ancient people took the idea of their architecture and of many of their strange shapes from some natural cave of this description, just as Nature herself suggested the idea of the beauti ful Corinthian piUar. Again, we seemed to enter a tract of country which had been petrified. Fountains of congealed water, trees hung with frozen moss, pillars covered with gigantic acanthus leaves, pyramids of ninety feet high losing their lofty heads in the darkness of the vault, and looking like works of the pre-Adamites ; yet no being but He who inhabits eternity could have created them. This second haU, as lofty as the other, may be nearly four hundred feet in length. We then passed into a sort of double gaUery, separated by enor mous pyramidal formations — stalagmites, those which are formed by water dropping on the earth. The ground was damp, and occasion aUy great drops trickled on our heads from the vaults above. Here Gothic shrines, odd figures; some that look like mummies, others like old men with long beards, appal us like figures that we see in some wild dream. These are intermingled with pyramids, obelisks, baths that seem made of the purest alabaster, &c. A number of small round balls, petrifactions of a dead white, lie about here, form ing little hollows in the ground. Here the cave is very wide : about two hundred feet, it is said. When we left this double gaUery, we came to another vast cor ridor, supported by lofty pillars, covered with creeping plants, but especially with a row of the most gigantic cauliflowers, each leaf delicately chiseUed, and looking like a fitting food for the colossal dweUers of the cavern. But to attempt anything like a regular description is out of the question. We gave ourselves up to admi ration, as our torches flashed upon the masses of rock, the hills crowned with pyramids, the congealed torrents that seem to belong to winter at the north pole, and the lofty Doric columns that bring us back to the pure skies of Greece. But amongst aU these curious acddents produced by water, none is more curiously exquisite than an amphitheatre, with regular benches, surmounted by a great organ, whose pipes, when struck, give forth a deep sound. It is really dif ficult not to believe that some gigantic race once amused themselves in these petrified soUtudes, or that we have not invaded the sanc tuary of some mysterious and superhuman beings. It is said that this cavern has been explored for four leagues, and yet that no exit has been discovered. As for us, I do not know how far We went : our guides said a league. It seemed impossible to think of time when we looked at these great masses, formed drop by drop, slowly and rarely and at distant intervals faUing, and looked back upon the ages that must have elapsed since these gigantic forma tions began. At length, on account of the loose stones, the water, and the masses of crystal rock that we had to climb over, om' guides strongly recommended us to return. It was difficult to turn away our eyes from the great formless masses that now seemed to fiU the cave as LIFE IN MEXICO. 157 far as the eye could reach. It looked like the world in chaos : Na ture's vast workshop, from which she drew the materials that her hand was to reduce to form and order. We fetraced our steps slowly and lingeringly through these subterranean palaces, feeUng that one day was not nearly sufficient to explore them, yet thankful that we had not left the country without seeing them. The skeleton of a man was discovered here by some travellers, lying on his side, the head nearly covered with crystaUization. He had probably entered these labyrinths alone, either from rash curiosity or to escape from pursuit, lost his way, and perished from hunger. Indeed, to find the way back to the entrance of the cave is nearly impossible, without some clue to guide the steps amongst these winding galleries, and halls, and issues, and entries, and divided corridors. Though there are some objects so striking that they may imme diately be recognised, such as the amphitheatre for instance, there is a monotony even in the variety ; and I can imagine the unfortunate man wandering amongst obelisks and pyramids, and alabaster baths and Grecian columns ; amongst frozen torrents that could not assuage his thirst, and trees with marble fruit and foUage, and crystal vege tables that mocked his hunger, and pale phantoms with long hair, and figures in shrouds, that could not reUeve his distress; and then his cries for help, where the voice gives out an echo, as if all the pale dwellers in the cave answered in mockery ; and then, his torch becoming extinguished, and he lying down exhausted and in despair near some inhospitable marble porch, to die. As we went along, our guides had climbed up and placed wax candles on the tops of aU the highest points, so that their pale glim mering Ught pointed out the way to us on our return. The Indians begged they might be left there " on account of the blessed souls in purgatory," which was done. As we returned, we saw one figure we had not observed before, which looks something Uke a. woman mounted on an enormous goat. To one haU, on account of its beauty, some traveUers have given the name of the "HaU of Angels.' It is said, that by observation, the height of the stalagmites might determine the age of their formation ; but where is the enterprising geologist who would shut himself up in these crystal solitudes suffi ciently long for correct observation? I never saw or could have imagined so beautiful an effect as that of the dayUght in the distance, entering by the mouth of the cave ; such a faint misty blue, contrasted with the fierce red Ught of the torches, and broken by the pillars through which its pale rays struggled. It looked so pure and holy, that it seemed Uke the light from an angel's wings at the portals of the " dtta doUnte." What would that poor traveUer have given to have seen its friendly rays ! After climbing out and leaving the damp, cool subterranean air, the atmosphere felt dry and warm, as we sat down to rest at the mouth of the cavern, surrounded by our Indian torch-bearers. Truly, Na ture is no coquette. She adorns herself with greater riches in the darkest mountain cave than on the highest mountain top. We were sitting in thoughtful silence, ourselves, Indians and aU, in a circle, when we saw, stumping down the hili, in great haste, and apparently in great wrath, an Indian alcalde, with a thick staff in his hand, at whose approach the Indians looked awe-struck. He carried in his brown hand a large letter, on which was written in 158 LIFE IN MEXICO. great type ; " Al sehvr dominante de esta caravana de genie." " To the commander of this caravan of people!" This missive- set forth that the justice of peace of the city of Cuautla Amilpas begged to know by what right, by whose authority, and with what intentions we had entered this cave, without permission from government ; and desired the "sefior dominante" to appear forthwith before the said justice, for contempt of his authority. The speUing of the letter was too amusing. The Indians looked very much alarmed,, and when they saw us laugh, stiU more astonished. C n wrote with a pencil in answer to the summons, that he was the Spanish minister, and wished good day to the alcalde, who plodded up the Mil again, very iU We now took leave of this prodigious subterranean palace, and again put ourselves en route. Once more we wound our way round the brink of the precipice, and this time it was more dangerous for usthan before ; for we rode on the side next it, our gowns overhang ing' the brink, and if caught by a branch there, might have been dragged over. Our two guides afterwards said that, if alone, they would have dismounted ; but that as the ladies said nothing, they did not like to propose it. Some day, no doubt, this cave wiU become a show-place, and measures will be taken to render the approach to it less dangerous ; but as yet, one of its charms consists in its being unhackneyed. Long after, its recoUection rests upon the mind, like a marble dream. But, Uke Niagara, it cannot be described ; perhaps it is even more difficult to give an idea of this underground creation than of the emperor of cataracts, for there is nothing with which the cave can be compared. Mean whUe, we- had rather a disagreeable ride, in aU the force of the sun's last rays, back to the rancho. No one spoke ; aU our thoughts were wandering amongst marble palaces, and uncouth,, gigantic, half-human forms. But our attention was again attracted by the sudden, re-appear ance of our friend, the alcalde, on the brow of the hill, looking con siderably indignant. He came with a fresh summons from the judge of Cuautla Amilpas, which lay white and glittering in the vaUey below. C n endeavoured gravely to- explain to him that the persons of ambassadors were not subject to such laws, which was Greek and Hebrew to him of the bronze countenance. " If it were a consul indeed, there might be something in that." At last our guide, the ranchero, promised to call upon the judge in the evening and explain the matter to his satisfaction ; and again our alcalde de parted upon his bootless errand : bootless in every sense, as he stalked down the hill with his bare bronze supporters. As we passed along, a' parcel of soldiers in the village 'were assembled in haste, who struck up an imposing military air, to give us some idea of their importance. It was late when we arrived at Cocoyotla, but we did not go to rest without visiting the beautiful chapel, which we had omitted to do on our last visit ; it is veiy rich in gilding and ornaments, veiy large and in good taste. We supped, and threw ourselves down to rest for a few hours, and set off again at three o'clock, by the light of a full moon. Our greatest difficulty in these hurried marches is to get our things in and out of our portmanteaux, and to- dress in LIFE IN MEXICO. 159 time in the dark. No looking-glasses of course : we arrange our hair by our imagination. Everything gets broken, as you may suppose ; the mules that carry our trunks cantering up and down the hills to , keep up with us, in most unequal measure. It was four o'clock when we left Meacatlan, and we rode hard and fast till it grew nearly dark ; for our intention was to return to our head-quarters at Atlacamulco that night, and we had a long journey before us, especially as it was decided that we should by no means attempt to recross the barrancas by night, which would have been too dangerous. Besides, an ecUpse of the moon was predicted, and in fact, as we were riding across the fields, she appeared above the horizon, half in shadow : a curious and beautiful spectacle. But we should have been thankful for her entire beams; for, after riding for hours, we discovered that we had lost our way, and worse stiU, that there were no hopes of our finding it. Not a hut was in sight ; dark ness coming on ; nothing but great plains and, mountains to be dis tinguished, and nothing to be heard but butts roaring round us. We went on, trusting to chance, and where chance would have led, us it is hard to say, but by good fortune our advanced guard stumbled over two Indians, a man and a boy, who agreed to guide us to their own village, but nowhere else. It was late, at night when we entered El Puente, after having crossed in pitch darkness a river so deep that the horses were nearly carried off their feet; yet they were dancing in one place, playing cards on the ground in another, dogs were barking as usual, and candles lighted in the Indian huts. We were very weU received by the Spaniards, who gave us supper and made us take thej.r room, aU the rest of the party sleeping upon mattresses placed on the floor of a large empty apartment. We slept a few' hours very soundly, rose before daylight, wakened the others, who lying on the ground, rolled up in their serapes, seemed to be sleeping for a wager, and remounted our horses, nojt sorry at the prospect of a day's rest at Atlacamulco. It was dark when we set off ; but the sun had risen and had Ughted up the bright green fields of sugar-cane, and the beautiful coffee planta tions that look Uke flowering myrtles, by the time we reached the hacienda of Sefior Neri del Barrio, whose family is amongst the most distinguished of the old Spanish Mexican stock. We stopped to take .a tumbler of milk fresh from the cow ; declined an invitation to go in, as we were anxious to finish our journey while it was cool ; and after a hard ride gaUoped into the court-yard of Atlacamulco, which seemed like returning home. We spent a pleasant, idle day, lying down and reading while the sun was high, and in the evening saun tering about under the orange-trees. We concluded with a hot bath. 7th. — Before continuing our journey, we determined to spend one day more here, Tyhieh was fortunate, as we received a large packet of letters from home, forwarded to this place, and we have been reading them, stretched under the shade of a natural bower formed by orange-boughs, near a clear, cold tank of water in the garden. To-morrow we shad set off betimes for the hacienda of Cocoyoc, the property of Don Juan Goriva, with whom C n was acquainted in Mexico. After visiting that and some other of the principal estates, we shaU continue our ride to Puebla, and as we shall pass a few days there, hope to have leisure to write again from that city. 160 LIFE IN MEXICO. LETTER XXXIV. On the 9th of February we took leave of Atlacamulco and the hospi table administrador ; and our party being diminished by the absence of Don Pedro, who was obliged, to go to Mexico, we set off as usual by starlight, being warned of various bad bits on the road, where the ladies at least were advised to dismount. The country was wUd and pretty, mountainous and stony. When the light came in we separated and gaUoped about in all directions. The air was cool and laden with sweetness. We came, however, to a pretty lane, where those of our escort who were in front stopped, and those who were behind rode up and begged us to keep close together, as for many leagues the country was haunted by robbers. Guns and pistols being looked to, we rode on in serried ranks, expecting every moment to hear a buUet whiz over our heads. We came at last to a road over a mountain, about as bad as any thing we had yet seen. Our train of horses and mules, and men in their Mexican dresses, looked very picturesque winding up and down these steep crags ; and here again, forgetful of robbers, each one wanr dered according to his own fancy : some riding forward, and others lingering behind to- puU branches of those beautiful wiid blossoins. The horses' heads were covered with flowers of every colour, so thai they looked like victims adorned for sacrifice. C n indulged his botanical and geological propensities, occasionally to the great detri ment of his companions, as we were anxious to arrive at some resting-place before the sun became insupportable. As for the rob bers, these gentlemen, who always keep a shaTp look-out, and rarely endanger their precious persons without some sufficient motive, and who, moreover, seem to have some magical power of seeing through stone walls and into portmanteaux, were no doubt aware that our luggage woxdd neither have replenished their own nor their ladies' wardrobes, and calculated that people who travel for pleasure are not likely to carry any great quantity of superfluous coin. Besides this, they are much more afraid of these honest, stout, weU-armed farm servants, who are a fine race of men, than even of soldiers. We arrived about six o'clock at the viUage of Hautepec, remark able for its fine old church and lofty trees, especiaUy for one magnifi cent wide-spreading ash-tree in the church-yard. There were also many of those pretty trees with the silvery bark, which always look as if the moon were shining on them. The road beganto improve, but the sun became very oppressive about nine o'clock, when we ar- - rived at a pretty village, which had a large church and a venta (tavern), where we stopped to refresh ourselves with water and some very well-baked small cakes. The village was so pretty that we had some thoughts of remaining there tiU the evening; but as Don Juan assured us that one hour's good gallop would carry us to Cocoyoc, LIFE IN MEXICO. 161 the hacienda of Don Juan Goriva, we determined to continue. We had a dreadful ride in the hot sun, tiU we arrived at a pretty Indian viUage on the estate, and shortly after entered the court-yard of the great hacienda of CocoyOc, where we were most hospitably welcomed by the proprietor and his family. We were very tired owing to the extreme heat, and white with dust. A fresh toilet,' cold water, an hour's rest, and an exceUent breakfast, did wonders for us. Soon after our arrival, the sugar- house, or rather the cane rubbish, took fire, and the great beU swung heavily to and fro, summoning the workmen to assist in getting it under. It was not extinguished for some time, and the building is so near the house, that the family were a little alarmed. We stood on the balcony, which commands a beautiful view of Popocatepetl, watching the blaze. After a hard battle between fire and water, water carried the day. We spent the next morning in visiting the coffee mills, the great brandy works, sugar-houses, &c. all of which are in the highest order; and in strolling through the orange groves, and admiring the curious and beautiful flowers, and walking among orchards of loaded fruit trees: the calabash, papaw, mango, tamarind, citron; also mameys, chirimoyas, custard apples, and aU the family of the zapotes, white, ' black, yellow, and chico; cayotes, cocoas, cacahuates, aguacates, &e. — a list without an end. vJBesides these are an infinity of trees covered with the brightest blossoms : one with large scarlet flowers, most gorgeous in their colouring; and one with blossoms so Uke large pink silt tassels, that if hung to the cushions of a sofa, you could not discover them to be flowers. What prodigaUty of Nature in these regions! With what a lavish hand she flings beauty and luxury to her tropical children! . In the evening we drove to Casasano, a hacienda about three leagues from Cocoyoc, and passed by several other fine estates; amongst others, the hacienda of Calderon. Casasano is an immense old house, very dull-looking, the road to which Ues through a fine park for cattle, dotted with great old trees, but of which the grass is very much burnt up. Each hacienda has a large chapel attached to it, at which all the workmen and villagers in the environs attend mass, a padre coming from a distance on Sundays and fete days. Frequently there is one attached to the establishment. We went to see the celebrated water-tank of Casasano, the largest and most beau tiful reservoir in this part of the country; the water so pure, that though upwards of thirty feet deep, every blade of grass at the hot torn is visible. Even a pin, dropped upon the stones below, is seen shining quite distinctly. A stone wall level with the water, thirty feet high, encloses it, on which I ventured to walk all round the tank, which is of an oval form, with the assistance of our host, going one by one. A faU would be sufficiently awkward, involving drown ing on one side and breaking your neck on the other. The water is beautiful— a perfect mirror, with long green feathery plants at the bottom. The next morning we took leave of our friends at three o'clock, and set off for Santa Clara, the hacienda of Don Eusebio Garcia. Sefior Goriva made me a present of a very good horse, and our ride that day was delightful, though the roads led over the most terrible L 162 LIFE IN MEXICO. barrancas. For nine long leagues, we did nothing but ford rivers and cUmb steep hills, those who were pretty weU mounted beating up the tired cavahy. But during the first hours of our ride, the air was so fresh among the hills, that even when the sun was high, we suffered Uttle from the heat ; and the beautiful and varied views we met at eveiy turn were full of interest. Santa Clara is a striking imposing mass of building, beautifully situated at the foot of three bold high rocks, with a remarkably handsome church attached to it. The family were from home, and the agent was a phUosopher, Uving upon herb-tea, quite above the common affairs of life. It is a fine hacienda, and very productive, but sad and soUtary in the extreme ; and as K and I walked about in the courtyard after supper, where we had Ustened to fright ful stories of robbers and robberies, we felt rather uncomfortably dreaiy, and anxious to change our quarters. We visited the sugar- works, which are Uke all others, the chapel, which is very fine, and the shop where they seU spirituous Uquois and calicoes. As we- intended to rise before dawn, we went to bed early, about nine o'clock, and were just in the act of extinguishing a melancholy- looking candle, when we were startled by the sight of an alacran on the waU. A man six feet hjgh came at our call. He looked at the scorpion, shook his head, and. ran out. He came back in a Uttle while with another large man, he with a great shoe in his hand, and his friend with a long pole. While they were both hesitating how to kiU it, Don Juan came in, and did the deed. We had » melan choly night, after this, afraid of everything, with a long unsnuffed candle illuminating the darkness of our large and lonely chamber. •¦ The next morning, the 11th of February, before sunrise, we took our leaye, in the darkness, of Santa Clara and the philosopher. The morning, wonderful to relate, was windy, and almost cold. The roads were frightful, and we hailed the first gray streak that appeared in the eastern sky, announcing the dawn, which might enable us at least to see our perils. Fortunately ft was bright daylight when we found ourselves crossing a barranca, so dangerous, that after follow ing for some time the precipitous, course of the mountain path; we thought it advisable to get off our horses, which were pawing the slippery rock; without being able to find any rest for the soles of their feet We had a good deal of difficulty in getting along our selves on foot among the loose, sharp stones ; and the horses, between sliding and stumbling, were a long while in accomplishing the de scent After climbing up the barranca, one of them ran off along the edge of the eUff, as if he were determined to cut the whole con cern, and we wasted some time in catching him. It was the afternoon when we rode through the lanes of a large Indian viUage, and shortly after arrived at Colon, the hacienda be longing to Don Antonio Orria. He was from home ; but the good reception of the honest administrador, the nice, clean, cheerful house with its pretty painted chairs, good beds, the exceUent breakfasts and dinners; and the good-will visible in the whole establishment, de lighted us very much, and decided us to pitch our tent here for a day or two. Colon, which is not so large as San Nicolas, has a greater air of life about it ; and in fact we Uked it so weU, that as observed, we seemed incUned to consider it, not as a colon, but a full stop. You LIFE IN MEXICO. 163 must notexpect more vivacious puns in the tierra Caliente. We rode back from San' Nicolas in the afternoon, accompanied by the pro prietor, and had some thoughts of going to Matamoras in the even ing to see the "Barber of Seville" performed by a stroUing company in -the ©pen. air, under a tree ! — admittance, twentyifive cents. How ever, we ended by remaining where we were, and spent the evening in .walking about through the viUage, surrounded by barking dogs, the greatest nuisance in these places, and putting wild flowers, and gathering castor-oil nuts from the trees. A begging Franciscan Mar, from the convent of San Fernando, arrived for his yearly supply of sugar, which he begs from the different haciendas, for his convent : a tribute which is never refused. At Colon we took leave of our conductor, Don. Juan, who returned to Atlacamulco, and got a new director of our forces, » handsome man, yclept Don Francisco, .who had been a Spanish soldier. We had an uncomfortable ride ina high wind and heavy rain ; the roads good but devoid of interest, so that we were glad when we learnt feat AtUsco, a town where we were to pass ,the night, was not far off. Within a mile or two of the city, we were met by a tall man on horseback, with. a pink- turban, and a wild, swarthy face, who looked like an Abenceitrage, and who came with the compUments of his master, a Spanish .gentleman, to say that a house had been prepared for us in the town. AtUsco is a large'town, with a high mountain behind it crowned bya white chapel, a magnificent church, at the base ; the whole city full Of fine ohurches-and convents, with a plaza and -many good houses. The numerous pipes, pointed all along from the roofs, have: a very threatening and warlike effect; one seems to ride up the principal street under a strong fire. We found that Don 'Fernando— — , pink turban's master, not considering his own house good enough, had, en hearing of our expected arrival, hired another, and furnished part of it for us ! This is the sort of wholesale hospitality one meets with in this country. Our room looked out upon an old Carmehte monas tery, 'where C n, having a recommendation to the prior, paid a visit, and found one or two good paintings. Here also we saw the famous cypress mentioned by Humboldt, which is. seventy-three feet in circumference. The next morning, we set out with an escort of seven mozos, headed by Don Francisco, and aU wett armed, for the road -from AtUsco to Puebla is the robbers' highway, par excellence. ' The great CordiUeras of Anahuac cross this territory, and amongst these are the Mountain of the Malinchi, Ixtaccihuatl, Popocatepetl, and the Peak of Orizava. The MaUnchi, a corruption by the Spa niards of the Indian name Malintzin, signifying Dona Maria or Marina^ is supposed to be called after Cortes's Indian Egeria, the first Christian woman of the Mexican empire. The -morning was reaUy cold, and when we first set out, Pococate- petl was roUed up ina mantle of clouds. The road led us very near him. 'The wind was very piercing, and K was mounted on a curate's pony, evidently accustomed to short distances and easy tra- VeUing. We had been told that it was "muy propria para senora" (very much suited to a -lady), an encomium always passed upon the oldest, moststupid, andmost obstinate quadruped that the haciendas can boast. We overtook and passed a party of cavalry, guarding some prisoners, whom they were conducting to Puebla. 164 LIFE IN MEXICO. As the sun rose, all eyes were turned with amazement and admi ration to the great volcano. The clouds parted in the middle, and rolled off in great volumes, like a curtain withdrawn from a high altar. The snowy top and sides of the mountain appeared, shining in the bright sun, like a grand dome of the purest white marble. But it cannot be described. I thought of Sinai, of Moses on the Mount, when the glory of the Lord was passing by; of the mountain of the Transfiguration, something too intolerably bright and magni ficent for mortal eye to look upon and live. We rode slowly, and in speechless wonder, tiU the sun, which had crowned the mountain like a glory, rose slowly from its radiant brow, and we were reminded that it was time to ride forward. We were not far from the ancient city of Cholula, lying on a greals plain at a short distance from the mountains, and gUttering in the sunbeams, as if it still were the city of predilection as in formef days, when it was the sacred city, "the Rome of Anahuac." It is" still a large town, with a, spacious square and many churches, and the ruins of its great pyramid still attest its former grandeur; but of the forty thousand houses and four hundred churches mentioned by Cortes, there are no traces. The base of this pyramid, which at $ distance looks like a conical mountain, is said by Humboldt to be larger than that of any discovered in the old continent, being double1 that of Cheops. It is made of layers of bricks mixed with coats of clay and contains four stories. In the midst of the principal pMi form, where the Indians worshipped Quetzalcoatl, the god of the airj (according to some the patriarch Noah, and according to others the apostle Saint Thomas ! for doctors differ) rises a church dedicated to the Virgin de los Remedios, surrounded by cypresses, from which1 there is one of the friost beautiful views in the world From this pyramid, and it is not the least interesting circumstance connected with it, Humboldt made many of his valuable astronomical observa tions. ': The treachery of the people and priests of Cholula, who afteif welcoming Cortes and the Spaniards, formed a plan for extermina ting them all, which was discovered by Dona Marina, through* the medium of a lady of the city, was visited by him with the most signal vengeance. The slaughter was dreadful; the streets were covered with dead bodies, and houses and temples were burnt to the ground. This great temple was afterwards purified by bis orders, and the standard of the cross solemnly planted in the midst. Cho lula, not being on the direct road to Puebla, is little visited ; and as for us, our time was now so limited that we were obliged to content ourselves with a mere passing observation of the pyramid, and then- to hurry forward to Puebla. '. We entered that city to the number of eighteen persons, eighteen^ horses, and several mules, and passed some people near the gates who were carrying blue-eyed angels to the chosen city, and who nearly let them drop, in astonishment, on seeing such a cavalcade: We were very cold, and felt very tired as we rode into the court-yarcV of the hotel, yet rather chagrined to think that the remainder of our journey was now to be performed in a diligence. Having brought my story up to civilized Ufe, and it being late, I conclude. •LIFE IN MEXICO. 1C& LETTER XXXV. Pueblo. You will be surprised when I tell you that, notwithstanding our fatigue, we went to the theatre the evening we arrived, and sat through a long and tragical performance in the box of Don A o H- — o, one of the richest citizens of Pueblo, who, hearing of our arrival, instantly came to invite us to his house, where he assured us rooms were prepared'for our reception. But being no longer in savage parts, where it is necessary to throw yourself on the hospi tality of strangers or to sleep in the open air, we declined his kind offer, and remained at the inn, which is very tolerable, though we So not see it now en beau as we did last year, when we were expected {here. The theatre is clean and neat, but duU, and we were much ipore looked at than the actors, for few foreigners (ladies especially) remain here for any length of time, and their appearance is some what of a novelty. Our toilet occasioned us no small difficulty, now that we were aga,iri in polished cities ; for you may imagine the con dition of our trunks, which two mules had galloped with over ninety leagues of plain and mountain, and which had been opened every night. Such torn gowns, crushed collars, ruined pelerines! One farpet bag had burst and discharged its contents of combs, brushes, &c. over a barranca, where some day they may be picked up as Indian antiquities, and sent to the Museum, to be preserved as a proof that Montezuma's wives brushed their hair. However, by dint of a washerwoman and sundry messages to peluqueros, (hair-dressers), we were enabled to turn out something like Christian traveUers. The first night we could not sleep on account of the innumerable ants, attracted probably by a smaU garden, with one or two orange- trees in it, into which our room opened. The next morning we had a great many visiters ; and though there is here a good deal of that provincial pretension one always meets with out of a capital, we found some pleasant people amongst them. The Senora H o came in a very handsome carriage, with beau tiful northern horses, and took us out to see something of the town. Its extreme cleanness after Mexico is remarkable. In that respect it is the Philadelphia of the republic ; with wide streets, weU paved ; large houses of two stories, very solid and weU-built ; magnificent churches, plenty of water, and withal a dulness which makes one feel as if the houses were rows of convents, and aU the people, ex cept beggars and a few business men, shut up in performance of a vpw. The house of Don A -o H o is, I think, more elegantly fur nished than any in Mexico. It is of immense size, and the floors are beautifully painted. One large room is furnished with pale blue satin, another with crimson damask, and there are fine inlaid tables, handsome mirrors, and everything in very good taste. He and his 166 .LIFE JN MEXICO. wife are both very young; she not more than nineteen, very delicate and pretty, and very fair; and in her dress, neatness, and house, she reminds me of a Philadelphian, always with the exception of her diamonds and pearls. The ladies smoke more, or at least more openly, than in Mexico; but they have so few amusements that they deserve more indulgence. There are eleven convents of nuns in the city, and taking the vett is as common as being married. We dined at the Sefiora H o's: found her very amiable, and heard a young lady sing, who has a good voice, but complains that there are no music-masters in Puebla. The fine arts, however, are not entirely at a stand-stiU here ; and in architecture, sculpture, and painting, there is a good deal, compai- ratively speaking, worthy of notice. There used to be a proverb amongst the Mexicans, that "if all men had five senses, the Poblanos had seven." They are considered very, reserved in their manners.. a natural consequence of their having. actuaUyno society. Formerly, Puebla rivalled Mexico in population and in industry. The plague, which carried off fifty thousand persons, was followed by the pesti lence of civil war, and Puebla dwindled down to a very secondary city. But we now hear a great deal of -their cotton factories, and, of the machines, instruments, and workmen, brought from Europe here, already giving, employment to thirty thousand individuals. In the evening we drove to the new paseo; a public promenade, where none of the public were to be seen,..and which, will be preitjp when the young trees grow. 19th. — We set out after breakfast with several gentlemen,, who came to take us to the cotton factories, &c. We went first to visit the factory established at the mill of Santo Domingo, a Uttle way out of the city, and called "La Constanda Mejicand" (Mexican Constancy). It was' the first established in the repubUc, and deserves its name from the great obstacles that were thrown in the way of its con struction, and the numerous difficulties that had to be conquered before it caine into effect. In 1831, a junto for the encouragement of pubUe industry was formed ; but the obstacles thrown in the way of every proposal were so great, that the members all abandoned it- in despair, excepting only the Sefior Don Esteban Antufiano, who was determined himself to establish a manufactory of cotton, to give up his commercial . re lations, and to employ his whole fortune in attaining; this object- He bought the mill of Santo Domingo for one hundred and seventy- eight thousand dollars, and began to build the edifice, employing foreign workmen at exorbitant prices. In this he spent so much of his capital, that he was obliged to have recourse to the Bank of Avio for assistance. This bank (avio meaning pecuniary- assistance or advance of funds) was estabhshed by Don Lucas Alaman, and -in tended as an encouragement to industry. But industry is not of the nature of a hothouse plant, to be forced by artificial means ; and , these grants of funds have but created monopolies,, and consequently , added to the general poverty. Machinery, to the amount of three thousand eight hundred and forty spindles, was ordered for Antufiario from, the United States, and a loan granted him of one hundred and seventy-eight thousand doUars, but of which he never received the whole. Mean while, his project was sneered at as absurd, impossi ble, ruinous ; but, firmly resolved not to abandon his enterprise, he LIFE IN MEXICO. 167 contented himself with living with the strictest economy,,. Mmsel. and, his numerous family almost suffering from want, and fre quently unable to obtain credit for the provisions necessary for their daily use. To hasten the arrival of the machinery, he sent an agent to the north to superintend it, and to hire workmen.; hut the -commercial house to which he was recommended, and which at. first gave him the sums he required, lost their confidence in the agent, and re- demanded their money, so that he was forced to seU his clothes in order to obtain food and lodging. In July, 1833, the machinery was embarked at Philadelphia, and in August arrived at Vera Cruz, to the care of Sefior Paso y Troncoso, who never abandoned Antufiano in his adversity, and even lent him unUmited sums ; but much delay ensued, and a year elapsed before it reached Puebla, There, after it was all set up, the ignorant foreign workmen declared that no good results would ever be obtained; that the machines were had, and the cotton was worse. However, by the month of January, 1833, they began to work in the factory, to which -was :given the name of "Mexican Constancy." A mechanist was then sent to the north, to procure a collection of new machinery ; and, after extra ordinary delays and difficulties., he embarked with it at New York in February, 1837. ' He was shipwrecked near Cayo-Hueso, and, with all the machinery he could save, returned to the north in the brig "Argos;" but on his way there he was shipwrecked again, and all the machinery lost ! He went to Philadelphia, to have new machines constructed, and in August re-embarked in the "Delaware." Incredible as it may seem, the " Delaware" was wrecked off Cayo-Alcatraces, and for the third time the machinery was .lost, the mechanist saving himself with great difficulty ! It seemed as if gods and men had conspired against the cotton spindles ; yet Antufiano persevered. Fresh machinery was ordered; and though by another fatality it was detained, owing to the blockade of the ports by the French squadron, seven thousand spindles were landed, and speedily put in operation. Others have followed the example of Sefior Antufiano, who has given a decided impulse to industry in Puebla,. besides a most extraordinary example of perseverance, and a determined struggle against what men call bad -kick, which persons of ,a feeble character sink under, while stronger minds oppose till they conquer it. It was in his carriage we went, and he accompanied us aU over the building. It is beautifuUy situated, and at a distance has more the air of a summer palace than of a cotton factory. Its order and airiness are delightful, and in the middle of the court, ia front of the bunding, is a large fountain of the purest water. A Scotchman, who has been there for some time, says he has never seen anything to compare with it,, and he worked six years in the United States, Antufiano is unfortunately very deaf, and obliged to use an ear- trumpet. He seems an excellent man, and I trust he may be ulti mately successful. We came oat covered -with cotton, as if we had been just unpacked, and were next taken to visit a very handsome new prison, which they are building in the city ; but whether it will ever be finished or not is more doubtful. We also visited the Foundling Hospital: a large building, where there.- are more children. 168 LIFE IN MEXICO. than funds. They were all clean and respectable-looking, but very poor. Antufiano presented them with two hundred doUars, as a memorial, he said, of our visit. We dined again in the house of Sefior H o. The manner in which his floors are painted is pretty and curious. It is an imitation of carpets, and is very rich in appearance and very cool in reality. A great many of the floors here are painted in this way, either upon canvass with oU-colours, or upon a cement extended upon the bricks of which the floor is made, and prepared with glue, Ume, or clay, and soap. Sefior H o has four young and pretty sisters, all nuns in different convents. As there are no other schools but these con vents, the young girls who are sent there become attached to the nuns, and prefer remaining with them for ever to returning home. After dinner, accompanied by Don N. Ramos Arispe, whom C n formerly knew intimately in Madrid, and by various other ecclesi astics, we visited the boast of Puebla, the cathedral, which we did not do when we passed through the city on our arrival last year. To my mind, I have never seen anything more noble and magni ficent. It is said that the rapid progress of the building was owing to the assistance of two 'angels, who nightly descended and added to its height, so that each morning the astonished workmen found their labour incredibly advanced. The name given to the city, "Puebla de los Angeles," is said to be owing to this tradition. It is not so large as the cathedral of Mexico, but it is more elegant, simpler, and in better taste. Sixteen columns of exquisite marble, adorned with silver and gold, form the labernack (in Mexico called el dpres). This native marble, caUed Puebla marble, is brought from the quarries of Totamehuacan and TecaU, at two and seven leagues from the city. The floor of the cathedral is of marble ; the great screens and high-backed chairs are of richly-carved cedar. Every thing was opened to show us: the tombs where the bishops are buried ; the vault where a martyr lies, supposed to have been mira culously preserved for centuries, the gift of a pope to a bishop of Puebla. The figure appears to be of wax, enclosing the skeleton of the martyr, and has the most angelic countenance I ever beheld. It is loaded with false emeralds and diamonds. In the evening we went with the M family, who have been very civU to us, to the theatre, where we saw a comedy better acted and more amusing than the tragedy which they murdered two nights before. We went early the next morning to the bishop's palace, to see his fine library and coUection of paintings, where there were a few modern originals and many fine copies of the old masters. We then went with the Sefiora H o, to return the visits of the ladies who had called on us. The young ladies invariably complain that they have neither music, nor drawing, nor dancing-masters. There is evidently a great deal of musical taste among them, and, as in every part of Mexico, town or country, there is a piano (tal cual) in every house ; but most of those who play are self-taught, and natu rally abandon it very soon, for want of instruction or encouragement. We are now going to dine -out, and in the evening we go to a con cert in the theatre, given* by the Sigfiora Cesari and Mr. Wallace. As we must rise at three, to set off by the diligence, I shall write no more from this place. Our next letters wiU be from Mexico. LIFE IN MEXICO. 169 LETTER XXXVI Mexico, 2 Coyohuacan, Miscuaque, &c. with their woods and gardens, as well as of the city itself, with its lakes and volcanoes. As C n's affairs take him to Mexico nearly every day, we feel a little lonely in this large house, even though perfectly comfortable ; and besides the extreme stillness and solitude, it is not considered safe for us to walk out alone : consequently the orchard must bound oiir wishes. And, of course, being prohibited from going farther, we have the greatest desire to do so! In the evening, however, when our caballeros return, we frequently walk down to the viUage, where the EngUsh minister also has a house. San Angel is pretty in its own way, with its fields of maguey, its scattered houses, that look like the beaux restes of better days, its market-place, parish church, church of El Carmen, with the monas tery and high-waUed gardens adjoining; with its narrow lanes, In,dian huts, profusion of pink roses, little bridge and avenue, and clusters of trees ; its houses for temperamento (constitution, as. they call those where Mexican families come to reside in summer), with their grated windows, and gardens and orchards; and then the distant view of Mexico, with the cathedral towers, volcanoes, and lofty mountains, scattered churches and long lines of trees ; and nearer, the pretty villages of Coyohuacan and Miscuaque ; and everywhere the old church, the broken arch, the ancient cross, with its faded flower-garlands, to commemorate a murder, or erected as an act of piety: aU is so characteristic of Mexico, that the landscape could belong to no other part of the known world. There is the Indian with his blanket, extracting the pulque from. the maguey; the ranchero, with her reboso and broad-brimmed hat,, passing, by upon .her ass; the old lepero, in rags, sitting baslcing im the sun upon the stone seat, in front of the door; the poor Indian. woman, with matted hair and brown baby hanging behind her, refreshing herself by drinking three elacos (halfpence) worth of pulque from ajarrito (little earthen jar); the portly and wett-looking padre. prior del Carden (the Carrrielite friar), sauntering up the lane at a. leisurely pace, all the little ragged boys, down to the merest urchin. that can hardly lisp, dragging off their large, well-holed hats, with a "Buenos dias, padredto !" (Good morning, little father!); the father replying with a .benevolent smile, and a slight sound in his throat intended for a Benedidte! and aU that might be dull in any other- climate brightened and made light and gay by the purest atmos phere, and bluest sky, and softest air, that ever blew or shone upom a naughty world. We are now approaching the Holy Week once more : in Mexico a. scene of variety in the streets and of splendour in the churches; but in the country a play, a sort of melodrama, in which the sufferings,. death, and burial of our Saviour, are represented by Uving figures in. pantomime. We have heard a great deal of these representations,, and are glad to have the opportunity of seeing them, which we in tend to do in the village of Coyohuacan, where they are particularly curious. Besides this, our friends the A s have a house there for the season, and, as the city of Cortes's predilection, it is classic ground. Mean while, for the last few days, the country has been overrun with Pharisees, Nazarenes, Jews, and figures of the Saviour, carried about in procession; all this in preparation for the Holy Week : a sort of overture to the drama. 174 LIFE IN MEXICO. - The first evening we arrived here there was a representation of the Pharisees searching for Christ. The Pharisees were very finely dressed, either in scarlet stuff and gold or in green and silver, with , helmets and feathers, mounted upon horses which are taught to dance and rear to the sound of music ; so that, upon the whole, they looked like performers at Astley's. They came on with music, riding up the lanes until they arrived in front Of this house, which being the principal place hereahouts, they came to first, and where the Indian workmen and servants were 3d ooUeoted to see them: They rode about for some time, as if in search of Christ, until a full- length figure of the Saviour appeared, dressed in purple robes, car ried on a platform by four men, and guarded -on aU Sides by soldiers. It is-singular that, after all, there is nothing ridiculous in these ex.- hibitions; on the contrary, something rather terrible. In the first place, the music is good, Which would hardly be the case in any but a Mexican viUage; the dresses are reaUy ridh, the gold is all real, and the whole has the -effect of confusing the imagination into the belief of its being a true scene. The next evening the same procession passed, with some additions, always accompanied by a crowd of Indians from the vUlages, men, women, and children. Bonfires were made before the door of the hacienda, which were lighted -whenever the distant music was heard approaching, and all the figures in the procession carried Ughted lamps. The Saviour was then led up to the door, and all the orowd went up to kiss his feet. The figure which is carried about this evening is caUed "Our Saviour of the Column," and represents the Saviour tied to a pillar, bleeding, and crowned with thorns. AU this must sound very profane; but the people are- so quiet, seem bo devout, and so much in -earnest, that it appears much less so than you would 'beUeve. . . . The cross was planted' here in a congenial soil; and as in the pagan East the statues of the divinities frequently did no more thari change their names from those -of heathen gods to -those of Christian- saints, and image- worship apparently continued, though the mind of the Christian was directed from the being represented to the true and only-God who inhabits eternity, so here the poor Indian still bows before visible representations of saints and virgins, as he did in former days -hefore the -monstrous shapes representing the unseen powers of the air, the earth, and the water ; but he, it is to be feared, lifts his thoughts no higher than the rude image whioh a rude hand has carved. The mysteries of Christianity, to affect his untutored mind, must be visibly represented to his eyes. He kneels before the bleeding image of the Saviour who died for him ; before the gracious form of the Virgin who intercedes for him ; but he believes that there are many Virgins, of various gifts, and possessing various degrees of miraculous power and different degrees of wealth, according to the quaUty and number of the diamonds and pearls with which they are endowed : one even who is the rival of the other ; one who wiU bring rain when there is drought, and one to whom it is well to pray in seasons of inundation. Mexico owes much of its peculiar beauty to the religious or superstitious feelings of its inhabitants. At every 'step we see a white cross gleaming amongst the trees, in a solitary path, or on the top of some rugged and barren rpck — a symbol of faith in the desert place ; and wherever the footsteps of man have LIFE IN MEXICO. 175 rested, and some three or four have gathered together, there, while the ruined huts proclaim the poverty of the inmates, the temple of God rises in comparative splendour. It is strange, yet well authenticated, and has given rise to many theories, that the symbol of the cross was already known to the Indians before the arrival of Cortes. In the island of Cozumel, near Yucatan, there were several ; and in Yucatan itself there was a stone cross ; and there an Indian, considered a prophet among his country men, had declared that a nation bearing the same as a symbol should arrive from a distant country ! More extraordinary still was a temple dedicated to the Holy Cross by the Toltee nation in the city of Cholula. Near Tulansingo, also there is a cross engraved on a rock, with various characters, which the Indians by tradition attribute to the apostle Saint Thomas. In Oajaca also there existed a cross which the Indians from time immemorial had been accustomed to consider as a divine symbol. By order of the Bishop Cervantes, it was placed in a sumptuous chapel in the cathedral. Information concerning -its discovery, together with a smaU cross cut out of its wood, was sent to Rome to Paul the Fifth, who received it on his knees, singhig the hymn, " Vexilla Regis prodeunt," &c . If any one wishes to try the effect of strong contrast, let him come direct from the United States to this country ; but it is in the villages especiaUy that the contrast is most striking. TraveHing in New England, for example, we arrive at a smaU and flourishing viUage. We see four new churches, proclaiming four different sects-, rehgion suited to all customers. These wooden churches or meeting-houses are all jiew, all painted white, or perhaps a bright red. Hard by is a tavern with a green paling, as clean and as new as -the ehurches, and there are also various smart stores and neat dwelling-houses; aU new, all' wooden, aU clean, and aU ornamented with slight Grecian pillars. The whole has a cheerful, trim, and flourishing' aspect. Houses, churches; stores, and taverns, aU are of a piece. They are suited to the present 'emergency, whatever that may be, though they wiU never make fine ruins. Everything proclaims prosperity, equality, consistency ; the past forgotten, the present aU in all, and the future taking care of itself. No delicate attentions to posterity, which can never pay its debts. No beggars. If a man has even a hole in his coat, he must be lately from the Emerald Isle. Transport yourself in imagination from this New England village to that of , it matters not which, not far from Mexico. "Look on this picture, and on that." The Indian huts with their half- naked inmates and little gardens ftul of flowers ; the huts themselves, either built of clay, or the half-ruined beaux restes of some stone building;- at a Uttle distance a hacienda, like a deserted palace, built of so'Ud masonry, with its inner patio surrounded by thick stone pillars, with great walls and iron-barred windows that might stand a siege. Here a ruined arch and cross, so solidly built that one cannot but wonder how the stones ever crumbled away. There, rising in the midst of old faithful-looking trees, the church, gray and ancient, but strong as if designed for eternity ; with its saints and virgins, and martyrs and reUcs, its gold and silver, and precious stones, whose value would buy up all the spare lots in the New England viUage ; the kpiro, with scarce a rag to cover him, kneeling on that marble pavement. Leaving the enclosure of the church, 176 LIFE IN MEXICO. observe the stone waU that bounds the road for more than a mile; the fruit-trees overtopping it, high though it be, with their loaded branches. This is the convent orchard. And that great Gothic pUe of building, that stands in hoary majesty, surmounted by the lofty mountains, whose cloucVenveloped summits, tinged by the evening sun, rise behind it; what could so noble a building be but the monastery, perhaps of the Carmelites, because of its exceeding rich garden and weU-chosen site ? for they, of att monks, are richest in this world's goods. Also we may see the reverend old prior riding slowly from under the arched gate up the village lanes, the Indians coming 'from their huts to do him lowly reverence as he passes. Here everything reminds us of the past : of the conquering Spaniards, who seemed to build for eternity ; impressing each work with their own soUd, grave, and religious character ; of the triumphs of Catho licism ; and of the Indians when Cortes first startled them from their repose, and stood before them like the fulfilment of a half forgotten prophecy. It is the present that seems like a dream, a pale reflection of the past. AU is decaying and growing fainter, and men seem trusting to some unknown future which they may never see. One government has been abandoned, and there is none in its place. One revolution follows another, yet the remedy is not found. Let them beware, lest, half-a-century later, they be awakened from their delusion, and find the cathedral turned into a meeting-house, and all painted white ; the railing melted down ; the sUver transformed into dollars; the Virgin's jewels sold to the highest bidder; the floor washed (which would do it no harm) ; and round the whole a nice new wooden paling, freshly done in green : and aU this performed by some of the_artists from the wide-awake republic farther north! Just as I wrote these words, a shower of crackers startled me frojgi the profane ideas in which I was indulging ; and the prancing of the horses of Jews and Pharisees, and the crackling of bonfires, warn me that it is time to take an evening stroU, that the sun is down, and the air refreshing. However, as to crackers and rockets, the common people enjoy them by day as much as by night. It is their favourite method of commemorating any event, civil or reUgious. " What do you suppose the Mexicans wttl be doing now ?" said King Ferdinand to a Mexican who was at the Spanish court, shortly after the final success of the revolutionists. " Letting off rockets, your majesty,". answered the Mexican. " Well, I wonder what they are doing now in Mexico !" said the king in the afternoon. " Tirando cohetes, letting ¦off rockets, your majesty." His majesty chose to repeat the question in the evening. "What will your countrymen be doing now?" " The same thing, your majesty. Still letting off rockets." Yesterday we drove into Mexico, to see how matters stood in our house, and received a number of visitors in our deserted apartments. - Just before we left Mexico for this place, three very magnificent aides-de-camp brought us an invitation from General Valencia to attend a baU to be given by him and other officers, in the theatre, to the president, on the occasion of his excettency's being declared " benemerito de lapatria." We did not go, as we were setting off for the country ; but C n, being requested, as were the other minis ters, to send the colours of his nation, did so, and to-day there is much talk in Mexico, besides a paragraph in the newspapers, con nected with these matters. It appears that the drapeaux, whether by LIFE IN MEXICO. 177 accident or design, were improperly placed, and these faults in eti quette are not uncommon here. The EngUsh minister, having observed that his drapeau was placed in a subordinate rank, and finding that his warnings beforehand on the subject, and his repre sentations on seeing it, were neglected, cut it down 'and left the baU- «o»m, followed by aU the English who were there. LETTER XXXVHI. "On Holy Thursday we went early in the morning to Coyohuacan '(now pronounced Cuyacan), which is almost a continuation of the viUage of San Angel ; but there are more trees in it, and every house has its garden, or at least its inner court, fiUed with orange-trees. Here, after the total destruction of the ancient Tenochtitlan, Cortes took up his residence for several months. Here he founded a con vent of. nuns, and in his testament he desired to be buried in this ¦convent, "in whatever part of the world I may finish my days." 'The conqueror's last wishes in this respect were not held sacred. At the time of the conquest, Coyohuacan, together with Tacubaya, &c. stood upon the margin of the Lake of Tezcuco ; most of the houses built within the water upon stakes, so that the canoes entered by a low door. This was undoubtedly the favourite retreat of Cortes, arid it is now one of the prettiest villages near Mexico. Its church is wonderfully handsome : one of the finest viUage churches we have yet seen. One of the prettiest places in the viUage belongs to an order of monks called the Padres Camilos. It consists of a house and garden, where the monks go by turns to enjoy the country air. Comfortable padres ! There is one room looking into the garden, and opening into a walk bordered by rose-bushes, which is such a place for a mesta! cool, retired, fragrant. A hammock with a mattress' on it is slung across the room, and here the good padre may lie, with one eye opened to the roses, and the other closed in inward meditation. 'However, its whole merit consists in being cleanly and neatly kept ; for it is a large, empty house, and the garden, so called, is Uttle more than a pasture-field, with nice gravel walks cut through it, bordered with fine rose-bushes, and beautified by a clear fountain. We went to the A 's house, which is half-way between San Angel and Coyohuacan ; the Senora A driving me herself in an open carretella with white frisdnes (northern horses), which, compared with the spirited Uttle Mexican steeds, look gigantic. We went first to see the church, which was brilliantly iUurrrinated, and ornamented with loads of flowers and fruit (especially oranges), and thronged "with ragged tepiros and blanketed Indians. We then set off, to endeavour if possible to find a place in the crowd, who had hurried ' off to see el prendimiento (the taking" of Christ), and to hear the curate preach an appropriate sermon in a portable pulpit amongst " the trees. 178 LIFE IN MEXICO. We made our way through the patient, bronzed, and blanketed crowd, not without sundry misgivings as to the effects of evil com munication; and at length reachedthe procession, all ranged on the grass- under the trees, in a pretty and secluded little grove, in two long rows fronting each other; each person carrying a lamp sur mounted by a plume of coloured feathers, very ingeniously made -of coloured spun glass. They were aU dressed in the costume of Pha risees, Jews, Romans, &c. The image of the Saviour was Shortly after carried through on a platform, to the sound of music, followed by the eleven disciples, and was placed in a kind of bower amongst the trees, supposed to give a representation of the garden of Gethse- mane. A portable pulpit, covered with shining stuff, was carried in, and placed beneath a tree jusfr outside of this enclosure, and soon after the curate arrived, and mounted into his place. A number of little ragged boys, who had climbed up on the very topmost branches of the trees, to have a good view, were piked down with lances by the Jews, notwithstanding their seemingly just remonstances that they were doing no harm; but when the Jews -observed in, answer to their " Que -haccmos?" ("What are we doing?") "The sehor cura wiU be angry," they tumbled down one, on the top of the other like ripe apples, and then Stood watching for the first convenient opportunity of slipping up. again. The curate began his sermon by an account of the sufferings anil persecution of Christ,; of the' causes. and effects of his death; of the sinfulness of the Jews, &c. He talked for about half-an-hour, and his sermon was simple enough and adapted to his audience. He described the agony of Christ when in the garden to which he often resorted with his disciples, and the treachery of Judas who knew the place, and who " having received a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, cometh thither with lanterns and torches and weapons." As he went on describing the circumstances minutely, one who represented a spy, with a horrible mask Uke a pig's face, was seen looking through the trees where the Saviour was concealed ; and shortly after, Judas, his face covered with a black crape, and followed by a band of soldiers, glided through, stealthily. "Now," said the curate, "observe what the traitor does. He hath given them a sign, saying, ' Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he: hold him fast.' He goes; he approaches the sacred person of the Lord." Here Judas went forward, and embraced the Saviour. "It is done!" cried the preacher. " The horrible act of treachery is completed. ' And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, Master ! and kissed him. But now, Jesus knowing aU things that should cOrae upon him, went forth and said unto them, Whom seek ye ? They answered him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus saith unto them, I am he.' " As the curate said these words, they aU fell prostrate on the ground. "Mark," cried he, "the power of the Word! "They came out to take him with swords and with staves, but at the sound of the Divine Word they acknowledge the power of God, and fall at His feet. But it is only for a moment. Behold! now -they bind him, they buffet him, they -smite him with the palms of then- hands, they lead him. away to the high,priest." All this was enacted in succession, though sometimes the curate was dbUged to repeat the same things several times before they re collected what to do. '" And already, in anticipation of the iniqui- LIFE IN MEXICO. 179 tous sentence, behold what is written." This aUuded to a paper fastened upon a pole, which a .man held above the heads of the crowd, and on which was written, "Jesus 'of Nazareth, King of the Jews, condemned to death by Pontius Pilate, President of Upper GaUlee." And now, escorted by Judas and the multitude, the Saviour was borne through, the crowd, in conclusion of the prendimiento. The curate wound up his discourse by an exhortation to abstain from sin, which had been the cause of this awful event. 1 regret to state that, at this very moment, a man poked his hand into A 's pocket, who turned very sharply round, and asked him what he wanted; "Nada, sefiorito" (Nothing, sir), said he, with an innocent smile, showing two rows of teeth like an ivory railing, but at the same time disappearing pretty swiftly amongst the crowd, who now all began to move, and to follow the procession, the band striking up a galope. In the evening we returned to San Angel, and visited the lighted churches there. As it was late when we entered the parroquia (parish church), the lights were nearly aU extinguished, and only a few of the devout were still kneeUng before a figure of our Saviour in chains On Good Friday we set off early for Coyohuacan, though rather afraid of the sun, whieh at present in the middle of the day is in supportable, and even by ten o'clock disagreeable. The whole enclosure round the church, and to a great distance beyond it, was covered with people, and there were even a few carriages fuU of weU-dressed persons, who had come from the different neighbouring haciendas ; amongst others, the family of the Marquesa de Vivanco. The padre Yturalde, who has some reputation for eloquence, was expected to preach three sermons at Coydhuacan that day, besides one in the viUage of Mizcuaque. We found that one sermon was just concluded. By the time we arrived the sun was pouring down his beams like molten lead. Our carriage was open, and under every tree was a crowd, so there were smaU hopes of finding shade. Women were seUing fruit, and booths with ices and chia were ejected all downthe lane leading from the church. At last, however, a little room was made, and seats were placed for us close to the pulpit, and under a tree. The image of the Saviour was now carried forward on a platform, with the heavy cross appearing to weigh him down; and on the same platform was Simon the Cyrenian, assisting him to bear the weight. The Cyrenian was represented by an old man, with hair as white as snow, dressed in scarlet cloth, who, in a stooping posture, and without once moving his body, was carried about for hours in ' the whole force of the sun, the rays pouring down upon his uncovered head. For a long while we had beUeved him to be a wooden figure dressed up, and when he came near he greatly excited our -surprise and compassion. If he survives this day's work it wiU be a miracle. I cam now almost give faith to 's assertion, that in some of the villages the' man who represents Judas actually hangs himself, or is hanged, upon a tree! The' -Saviour was dressed in crimson velvet, with the crown of thorns ; and a figure of the Virgin, in deep mourn ing, was carried after him by Indian women. The procession consisted of the same men on horseback as we had seen on foot the preceding day; of the spy, the Pharisees, the Jews, 180 LIFE IN MEXICO. the betrayer, and the mob. Some had helmets and feathers, and armour. Some wore wreaths of green and gold -leaves. One very good-looking man, with long curls and a golden crown, and a splendid mantle of scarlet and gold, was intended for a Roman. By his crown he probably meant to personify the Roman Caesar. The sermon, or rather the discourse, of the padre was very good, and appeared to be extempore. He made an address to the Virgin, who was carried by and led up to the pulpit, and another to the Saviour, during which time the audience were breathlessly attentive, not withstanding the crying of children and the barking of dogs. It was supposed that they were now leading Christ before the judgment-seat of Pilate, and the next scene was to be the dehvery of the sentence. When the curate's discourse was finished, the procession went on ; the Indian women began to sell their nuts and oranges, and the band struck up an air in the distance, to which, when last I heard it, Ducrow's horses were dancing ! We, in a fiery sun, which made its way through our mantillas, now proceeded to search for a con venient place from which to hear the padre's next sermon, and to see the next scene in the sacred drama. The padre, who was walking" under the shade of a Ulac silk parasol, insisted upon resigning it to me. The Sefiora — - did not seem to feel the heat at aU. At last, in order to avoid the crowd, we got up on the low azotea of a house, beside which the pulpit was placed; but here the sun was over whelming. The padre's sermon was really eloquent in some passages, but lasted nearly an hour, during which time we admired the fortitude of the unhappy Cyrenian, who was performing a penance of no ordi nary kind. The sun darted down perpendicularly on the back of his exposed head, which he kept bent downwards, maintaining the same posture the whole time, without flinching or moving. Before the sermon was over we could stand the heat no longer, and went in under cover. I felt as if my brains were melted into a hot jeUy. We emerged upon hearing that the procession was again moving towards the pulpit, where it shortly after formed itself into two lines. In a few moments, a man with a plumed helmet, mounted on a fiery horse, gaUoped furiously through the ranks, holding a paper on the point of his lance, the sentence pronounced by Pontius Pilate. Arrived at the pulpit, he handed it up to the priest, who received it with a look of horror, opened it, tried to read it, and threw it on the ground with an air of indignation. The messenger gaUoped back more furiously than he came, and, his horse bolting at the end of the linos, occasioned a laugh amongst the spectators. Then fol lowed the parting address to the Saviour, whose bearers now brought him up to the pulpit, followed by the mournful figure of the Virgin. Reflections on the event, concluded this act. We returned in the afternoon, to see the descent from the cross, which was to be performed within the church. The edifice was crowded, and a black curtain hung before the altar. The padre now recapitulated all that had taken place, and described the Saviour's parting with his mother at the foot of the cross, addressing the Virgin, who stood in her sable robes not far from the altar, and interrupting his sermon to pray for her intercession with her Divine Son. I observed all the women in tears as he described the Virgin's grief, the torments of the crucifixion, the indignities that the Saviour LIFE IN MEXICO. 181 had suffered. AU at once he exclaimed in a loud voice, " Draw back the veU and let us behold him!" The curtain was drawn, and the Saviour crucified appeared. Then the sobs of the women broke forth. They clasped their hands, beat their breasts and groaned, while the soldiers who stood below the cross clashed their swords, and one of them struck the body with a lance. At the same time the Virgin bowed her head, as if in grief. Unfortunately, I was near enough to see how this was effected, which peep behind the scenes greatly diminished the effect. ' Then the soldiers mounted a ladder near the crucifix, and took down the body, to bear it away. As it came by the pulpit, the priest seized the hands, and showed the marks of the nails, at the same time breaking out into exclamations of grief, The soldiers stood below, impatiently clashing their swords ; the women sobbed violently; the procession passed on, and we returned to the A s's house. In the eveningthe " Procession of the Angels" took place. Figures dressed in silk and gold, with silver wings, were carried by on plat forms to the sound of music. The body of the Saviour lay in a sort of glass hearse, carried by men chanting a dirge, and followed by the Virgin. .This procession was really pretty, but had an odd, unna tural effect amongst the fresh green trees, the smell of incense min gling with the fragrance of the flowers, and the gaudy silk, and gold, and plumes of feathers gilded by the soft setting sun, as they flashed - along. I cUmbed up an old stone cross near the church, and had a good view. Everything looked gaudy when near ; but as the pro cession wound along under the broken arches and through the green lanes, and the music came fainter upon the ear, and the beating of drums, and the tolling of bells, and the mournful chant, were all blended into one faint and distant harmony, the effect was beautiful. Ithought of the simple service of the Scottish kirk, and of the coun try people coming out after a sermon, with their best Sunday gowns on, and their serious, intelligent faces, discussing the merits of their minister's discourse; and wondered at the contrasts in the same religion. . . . As the evening was cool and pleasant, we walked through the fields to the church of La Concepcion, where the procession was to pass, and sat down on the grass till we heard it coming. As the body was carried by, all went on their knees. At night commenced the pesame, or condolence to the Virgin, in the church. She stood on her shrine, with her head bowed down ; and the hymns and prayers were all addressed to her, while the sermon, preached by another cura, was also in her honour. I plead guilty to having been too sleepy to take in more than the general tenor of the discourse. The musicians seemed to be playing " Sweet Kitty Clover," with varia tions. If " Sweet Kitty Clover" be genuine Irish (as who can doubt ?) how did these Indians get hold of it ? Did Saint Patrick go round from the Emerald Isle by way of Tipperary ? But, if he had, would not he have killed the alacrans, and ehicaclinos, and coralillos,, and vinagrillos ? This requires consideration. In the Orapro nobis, we were struck with the fineness of the rustic voices. But music in this country is a sixth sense. It was but a few days before leaving Mexico, that, sitting alone at the open window,, enjoying the short twilight, I heard a sound of distarit music; many 182 LIFE 'IN MEXICO. voices singing' in parts, and coming gradually nearer. It sounded beautiful, and exactly in unison with the hour and the scene. At first I concluded it to be a rehgious procession ; but it was not a hymn : the air was gayer. When the voices came under the window, and rose in full cadence, 1 went out on the balcony to see to whom they belonged. It was the forcats, returning from their work to the Acordada; guarded by soldiers, their chains clanking in measure to the. melody, and accompanied by some, miserable-looking women. We left the church, feehng very tired and sleepy, and walked to wards the booths, where, in the midst of flowers and evergreens, they were still selling ices, and lemonade, and chia. We sat down to rest in the cleanest of these leafy bowers, and then retmned to Coyohua can. There was no drunkenness, or quarrelling, or confusion of any sort. An occasional hymn, rising in the sdence of the air, or the, distant-flashing of a hundred Ughts, alone gave notice that the fune ral procession of the Saviour had not yet halted for the night; but there was no noise, not even mirth. Everything was conducted with a sobriety befitting the event that was celebrated That some of the curate's horses were stolen that night is only a proof that bad men were out, and took the opportunity of his absence from home to plunder his stables. We were told an anecdote concerning Simon the Cyrenian, which is not bad. A man was taken.up in one of the villages as a vagrant, and desired by the justice to give an account of himself; to explain why he was always wandering about and had no employment. The man, with the greatest indignation, replied, "No employment! I am substitute Cyrenian at Coyohuacan in, the Holy Week!" That is to say, he was to be substituted in the Cyre- nian's place, should anything occur to prevent that individual from representing the character. LETTER XXXTX. 2ord April We went to Mexico yesterday to see a baUoon ascend from the Plaza de Toros, with an aeronaut and his daughter — French people, I be lieve. The scene was reaUy beautiful. The plaza was filled with well-dressed people, and all the boxes were crowded with ladies in fuU toilet. The president was there with his staff, and there were two bands of music. The day was perfectly briUiant, and the streets were browded with handsome carriages, many of them open. The balloon swayed itself up and down in the midst of the plaza Uke a living thing. Everything seemed ready for the ascent, when it was announced that there was a hole in the balloon, and that, conse quently, there could be no ascent that day. The people bore their disappointment very good-humouredly, although it was conjectured that the air-traveller had merely proposed to himself to get their money, without the. slightest intention of performing his voyage. One amusing circumstance was, that some penny-a-line rhymer had writ- LIFE IN' MEXICO. 183 ten an account of it in verse beforehand, giving a most grandiloquent account of the. ascent 'of the balloon; and when we came out, the plaza was full of men selling these verses, which the people were all buying, and reading with roars of laughter. The first of' May being San Felipe, there will be a bajl at the French minister's, to which we shall probably go. 25th.— We have just returned from a ride to SanBartolo, an In dian village four leagues from this, whither we went with a large party, some on horses, some on asses, others on mules, and one ad venturous Jehu driving himself in a four-wheeled carriage, with a pair of horses-, over a road formed of ruts, stones, holes, and rocks, where, I wiU venture to say, no carriage ever made its appearance before. Even the horses and asses got along with difficulty. In spite of large straw hats and green veils, we were burnt the colour of red Indians. In the middle of the day we find the sun intolerable at present ; and,, owing to the badness of the roads, we did not reach our destination until twelve or one o'clock. Our dinner was carried by Indians, who had trotted off. with it at day-dawn, but who had taken the wrong road, and did not arrive till long after us. We dined under the pine-trees by the side of the stream, but surrounded by crowds of gaping Indians, in too close vicinity to be agreeable. Some of, the young women were remark ably handsome, with the most beautiful teeth imaginable, laughing and talking in their native tongue at a great rate, as they were -wash ing in. the brooks, some their hair and others.their clothes. The men looked as dirty as Indians generally do, and by no means on a level with these handsome damsels, who are so much superior to the com mon race of Indians near Mexico, that one would think they had some intermixture of Spanish blood in their veins. A sister of the woman who takes charge of the hacienda where we. live, is one of the most beautiful creatures I ever beheld : large eyes, with long dark lashes, black hair nearly touching the ground, teeth like snow, a dark but glowing oomplexion, a. superb figure, with fine arms and hands, and smaU, beautifully-formed feet. All that is best of Indian and Spanish, of "dark and bright," seems united, in her. C- n says he has- seen peasant, women in Andalusialn the same style of beauty, and quite as handsome. She is only nineteen. Such beauties as these startle one every now and then in some remote village. She belongs, no doubt, to the mestizos— the descendants of whites and Indians, the handsomest race in Mexico. You ask if the castes in Mexico are distinct. There are seven sup posed to be so. First; the Gachupinos, or Spaniardsbornin Europe; second, the Creoles— whites of European famines-born in Amerioa; third, the Mestizos ; fourth, the Mulattoes, descendants of whites and negroes, of whom- there are few; fifth, the Zambos, descendants 'of negroes and Indians, the ugliest race in Mexico ; sixth, the Indians ; and seventh, the remains of the African negroes. Of pure Indians; Humboldt in his day calculated that there existed two miUions and a-half in New Spain (without counting mestizos), and they are, probably, very Uttle altered from the inferior Indians, as Cortes-foundthem. The principal families perished at the time of the conquest. The priests, sole depositaries of knowledge, were put to death; the manuscripts and' hieroglyphieal paintings < were burnt, and the remaining Indians fell into that state of ignorance 184 LIFE IN MEXICO. and degradation from which they have never emerged. The rich Indian women preferred marrying their Spanish conquerors to allying themselves with the degraded remnant of their countrymen — poor artisans, workmen, porters; &c; of whom Cortes speaks as fitting the streets of the great cities, andas being considered little better than beasts of burden ; nearly naked in the tierra caliente, dressed pretty much as they now are in the temperate parts of the country, and everywhere with nearly the same manners, and habits, and customs, as they now have, but especially in the more distant villages, where they have little intercourse with the other classes. Even in their re ligion, Christianity, as I observed before; seems to be formed of the -ruins of their mythology; and all these festivities of the church, these fireworks, and images, and gay dresses, harmonise completely with their childish love of show, and are, in fact, their greatest source of delight. To buy these they save up aU their money ; and when you give a penny to an Indian child, it trots off to buy crackers as another would to buy candy. Attempts have been made by their curates to persuade them to omit the celebration of certain days, and to expend less in the ceremonies of others ; but the indignation and discontent which such proposals have caused have induced them to desist from their endeavours. Under an appearance of stupid apathy they veil a great depth of cunning. They are grave ana gentle, and rather sad in their ap pearance, when not under the influence of pulque; but when they return to their viUages in the evening, and have taken a "drop of comfort," their white teeth light up their bronze countenances like lamps, and the girls especiaUy make the air ring with their laugh ter, which is very musical. I think it is Humboldt who says that their smile is extremely gentle, and the expression of their eyes very severe. As they have no beard, if it were not for a Uttle moustache which they frequently wear on the upper lip, there would be scarcely any difference between the faces of men and women. There is a pretty farm-house in the viUage, in which we took shelter the other day from a shower of rain. The farmers are civil and respectful ; a superior kind of people, with good manners rather above their station. The daughters are good-looking, and the house is clean and neat. One of the girls gave me an account of a nocturnal visit which the robbers paid them last winter. She showed me the little room where she was alone and asleep, when her mother and sister, who slept in the chamber adjoining, being awakened by the breaking in of their door, sprang out of the window to make their escape, and she was left in the house alone. She jumped out of bed and bolted the door (her room had no other egress), and there she held a parley with these night visitors, promising to unlock every drawer and -closet if they would wait till she put on her clothes, and would do her no personal injury. The agreement was made, and they kept their word. They cleared the house of every article it contained, leaving nothing but the blanket in which the girl had wrapped herself. All their clothes, household utensils, money, every thing, was carried off with astonishing precision ; and having made. her swear not to move till they had time to leave the village, they paid her no further attention. The other women, who had given the alarm, found no one inclined to move in the middle of the night against a party whose numbers their fears had probably magnified. - LIFE IN MEXICO. 185 _ The administrador gave us an amusing account this evening of a visit, which a band of no less than thirty robbers once ventured to pay this strong and well-defended hacienda. He was living there alone, that' is, without the family, and had just barred and bolted everything for the night, but had not yet locked the outer.gatc, when looking out from his window into the court-yard by moonlight, he saw a band of robbers ride up to the door. He instantly took his measures, and seizing the great keys, ran up the little stair that leads to the azotea, locking the gate by which he passed, and, call ing to the captain by name, for the robbers were headed by a noted chieftain, requested to know what he wanted at that hour of the night. The captain politely begged him to come down stairs and he would tell him ; but the agent, strong in the possession of his great keys, and weU knowing the solidity of the iron-barred windows, continued his parley in a high tone. The captain rode round, exa mined everything with a. practised eye, and found that it would require a regular siege to make good his entry. He threatened, en treated, observed that he would be content with a small sum of money, but all in vain. There stood the sturdy administrador on the house-top, and there sat the captain on his horse below, something like the fox and the crow; but the agent with the keys was wiser than the crow and her cheese, for no cajoling would induce him to let them out of his grasp ; and, worse than aU, shooting him would have done them no good. At last the captain, finding himself en tirely Outwitted, took off his hat, politely wished the agent a very good night, drew off his men, and departed. We saw a-horribly ugly'man to-day, and were told he was a lobo, the name given here to the Zambos, who are the most frightful human beings that can be seen. La Giiera Rodriguez told us that, on an estate of hers, one woman of that race was in the habit of at . tending church, and that she was so fearfully hideous, the priest had: been obliged to desire her to remain at home, because she distracted. the attention of the congregation ! There are many exceUent houses and fine gardens in San Angel, and a number of famihes from Mexico are now there for the season- Tacubaya and all the environs are beginning to be occupied, and Mexico looks warm and deserted. But there are so few incidents in our quiet life among the magueys, that I_shaU write no more till we. return from San Agustin after the fete. If you wish to hear how we pass our time, you must know that we generally rise about six, and. go out into- the orchard and stroll about, or sit down with a book in a pleasant arbour at the end of one of the walks, which is surrounded by rose-bushes, and has a Uttle Stream of water running past it. Nor do we ever enter the orchard unarmed with a long pole, for its en trance is guarded by a flock of angry geese, hissing like the many- headed hydra that watched over the golden apples of the Hesperides.. At eight we breakfast, and by nine the sun is already powerful enough to prevent us from leaving the house. We therefore sit down. to read or write, and occasionaUy take a game at billiards. C n generally rides to Mexico, but if not, goes up to the azotea with a. book, or writes in his study until four o'clock, when we dine. 188 LIFE IN MEXICO. LETTER XL. lOtt June,. One year since I last wrote of San Agustin! An entire year has fled swiftly away on rushing pinions, to add its unit to the roUing cen tury. And again, on a bright morning in June, we set off for the hospitable San Antonio, where we were invited to breakfast and to pass the night on the second day of the fete. San Agustin appeared even gayer and more crowded than it was last year. We spent the day at the B s's, and went with them to a box in the plaza to see the coek-fight, which- 1 had no particular pleasure, I must- confess, in witnessing again, but went for the sake of those who had not seen it before. The general coup-d'cdl was ex ceedingly gay, and the improvement in the dress of the ladies since last year very striking. There were neither diamonds- nor pearls amongst the most fashionable. The bonnets were chiefly Parisian, as were many of the gowns. "One box looked a veritable parterre of flowers. The ladies of our party wore dresses and bonnets as simple, fresh, and elegant as could be seen in any part of the world. A young and titled heiress, newly arrived from her distant estates, wore pink satin with a white hat and feathers ; and we observed that, ac cording to the ancient San Agustin fashion, she changes her dress four or five times a-day. But the ladies may dress-, and may smile, and may look their very best ; they are little thought of this day, in comparison with the one; aU-powerful, all-pervading object. It is even whispered that one cause of the more than usual crowd at San Agustin this year is, that many failures are expected in mercantile houses, and that the heads of these houses or their agents- are here with the desperate hope of retrieving their fa-lUng fortunes. A good deal of play on a smaU scale goes on in the private houses, among those who do not take much part in the regular gambling ; but aU are interested more or less : even strangers, even ladies, even ourselves. Occasional news is brought in, and received with deep interest, of the state of the banks, of the losses or gains of the diffe rent individuals, or of the result of the vacas, (a sort of general purse, into which each puts two or three ounces), by different stragglers from the gambUrig-houses, who have themselves only ventured a few ounces, and who prefer the society- of the ladies to that of the monte players. These are generaUy foreigners, and chiefly English. We found the road to the Galvario, where, as usual, there was a baU in the afternoon, bloeked up with carriages, and the hiU itself covered with gay figures, who were dancing as weU as the tremen dous crowd would permit. This was reaUy tolerably republican. The women generally were dressed as the better classes of Mexicans used to be years ago, and not so many years neither (and as many in the country still are), in blonde dresses, with very short petticoats, open silk stockings, and white satin shoes ; and such a cottection of LIFE IN MEXICO. 187 queer bonnets has piobably never. been seen since the days when les Anglmses pour rim first set foot on Gallic shores. Some- were like smaU steeples, others resembled helmets, some were like sugar-loaves, and most seemed to have been set on for convenience' sake, all the way out. Amidst these there was a good sprinkling of pretty Her- baults and Paris dresses, but they belonged to the more fashionable classes. The scene was amusing from its variety, but we did not re main long, as it threatened rain. As we looked back, the crowd on the hitt presented the appearance of a bed of butterflies dancing with black ants. , We returned to the s's to dinner, which was very handsome and entirely French. There were about twenty-eight persons at table : some of them looked as if they had rather lost than otherwise. After dinner, ¦music, and conversation on the events and probabiU- ties of the day, till it was time to dress for the baU at the plaza. We, however, preferred going, to a box, which saved the trouble of dress ing, besides being "•<& mueho tono" (very fashionable) ; but when we arrived, not a box was- to be had, the crowd was so great, and there were so many people of tono besides ourselves, who had preferred doing the same thing ; . so we were obliged to content ourselves with retreating to a third row of benches on the floor; after persuading at least a dozen of very good-natured women to turn out in order to let us- in. We were afterwards joined by the minister and his wife. The ball looked very gay, and was prodigiously crowded and exceed ingly amusing. There were people of aU classes : modistes and carpenters, shop- boys, tailors, hatters, and hosiers, mingled with all the haut ton of Mexico. Every shop-boy considered himself entitled to dance with every lady,, and no lady considered herself as. having a right to refuse. him, and- then to dance with another person. The Sefiora de , a most high-bred and dignified person, danced with a stable-boy in a jacket and without gloves, and he appeared particularly gratified at. the. extraordinary opportunity thus afforded him of holding her white gloves in his brown paws. These fellows naturally select the first ladies as their partners, and strange as it may seem, there is nothing in their behaviour that the most. fastidious can complain of. They are perfectly polite, quiet, and well conducted; and, what is more remarkahle, go through a quadrille as weU as their neighbours. The ball was quietness itself, until near the end, when the wind- instruments were suddenly seized with a fit of economy, the time they were paid for having probably expired, and stopped short in the midst. of a waltz; upon which the gentlemen waltzers shouted " Viento! viento!" at the full extent of their voices, clapping then- hands, refusing to dance, and entirely drowning the sound of some Uttle jingUng guitars which were patiently t wangling on, until the lured sons of iEolus had to resume their labours. On the third night of the fete, C n and I having left the ball room about ten o'clock, walked out in the direction of the copper- tables which filled the middle of the square, and were covered with awnings. It is a, sight that, once seen, can never be forgotten. Nothing but the pencil of Hogarth or the pen of Boz could do jus tice to the various groups there assembled. It w.as a gambling fete ckampetre, conducted on the most. Uberal scale. On each table were great mountains of copper, with an occasional 188 LIFE IN MEXICO. sprinkling of silver. There was a profusion of evergreens; there were smaU tin lamps dripping with oil, and sloping tallow candles shedding grease upon the board. Little ragged boys, acting as waiters, were busily engaged in handing round pulque and chia in cracked tumblers. There was, moreover, an agreeable tinkUng pro duced from several guitars, and even the bankers condescended to amuse their guests with soothing strains. The general dress of the company consisted of a single blariket, gracefully disposed in folds about the person, so as to show various glimpses of a bronze skin. To this some added a pair of Mexican pantaloons, and some a shirt of a doubtful colour. There were many with large hats, most of which had crowns or parts of crowns, but att affording free entrance to the fresh air. Generally speaking, however, the head was uncovered, or covered only with its native thatching of long, bushy, tangled black hair. This might be out of compUment to the ladies, of whom therci were several, and who ought in politeness to have been mentioned first. Nothing could be simpler than their costume, consisting of a very dirty and extremely torn chemise, with short sleeves, u, shorter petticoat, and. a pair of shoes, generaUy of dirty satin; also a rebozo, and the long hair hanging down as Eve's golden locks may have done in paradise. " They caU this place a paradise," a Spanish soldier wrote to his father; "and so I think it is, it is so full of Adams." There was neither fighting, nor swearing, nor high words. I doubt whether there be as much decorum at Crockford's; indeed, they were scrupulously polite to each other. At one table, the banker was an enormously fat gentleman, one-half of whose head was bound up with a dirty white handkerchief, over which a torn piece of hat was stuck, very much to one side. He had » most roguish eye, and a smile of inviting benignity on his dirty counte nance. In one hand he held and tingled a guitar, while he most in geniously swept in the copper with the other. By his side sat two wretched-looking women, with long matted hair, their elbows on the table, and their great eyes fixed upon the game with an expression of the most intense anxiety. At another, the banlcer was a pretty little Indian woman, rather clean, comparatively speakmg, and who- appeared to be doing business smartly. A man stood near her, leaning against one of the poles that supported the awning, who attracted all our attention. He was enveloped in a torn blanket, his head uncovered, and his feet bare ; and was glaring upon the table with his great, dark, haggard-looking eyes, his brown face Uvid, and his expression bordering on despair. It needed no one to teU us that on the table was his last stake. What wiU such a man do but go upon the road ? I have heard it mentioned, as a strong circumstance in favour of" the Mexican character, that there is neither noise nor disturbance in these reunions; none of that uproar and violence that there would be in an EngUsh mob, for example. The fact is certain, but the inference is doubtful. These people are degraded, and accustomed to endure They are gentle and cunning, and their passions are not easily roused, at least to open display ; but once awakened, it is neither to uproar that these passions will be excited nor by fair fight that they will be assuaged. In England a boxing-match decides a LIFE IN MEXICO. 189 dispute amongst the lower orders; in Mexico, a knife; and a broken head is easier mended than a cut throat. Despair must find vent in some way; and secret murder or midnight robbery is the fatal con sequence of this very calmness of countenance, which is' hut a mask of Nature's Own giving to her Indian offspring. Another reason for this tranquillity is the habit of gambling, in which they have indulged from childhood, and which has taught them that neither high words nor violence will restore a single doUar once fairly lost; and in point of fairness, everything is carried on with the strictest honour, as airiong gamblers of high degree. While "high life below stairs" is thus enacting,"" and these people are courting Fortune in the fresh air, the gentlemanly gamblers arc seated before the green cloth-covered tables, with the gravity befit ting so many cabinet councils, but without their mystery; for doors and windows are thrown open, and both ladies and gentlemen may pass in and out, and look on at the game, if they please. The heaps of ounces look temptingly, and make it appear a true El Dorado. Nor is there any lack of creature-comforts to refresh the flagging spirits. There are supper-spread tables, covered with savoury meats to appease their hunger, and with generous wines to gladden their hearts ; and the gentlemen who surrounded that board seemed to be playing, instead of mont'e, an exceUent knife and fork. You must not suppose that those who hold gambling-tables are the less considered on that account ; on the contrary, as the banks generally win, they are amongst the richest, and, consequently, the most respected men in Mexico. These bankers are frequently Spa niards, who have found gambling the readiest stepping-stone to for tune. Sefior explained to me one plan of those who hold the banks — a sort of hedging, by which it is next to impossible that they .can lose. For example, one of these gentlemen proposes to his friends to take a share in a vaca, each contributing a few ounces. Having collected several hundred ounces, they go to play at his bank. If they win, he receives his share, of course ; and if they lose, his bank wins the whole. It is proceeding upon the principle of "Heads I win, tails you lose." At the tables few words are spoken. The heaps of gold change' masters, but the masters do not change countenance. I saw but •one person who looked a little out of humour, and he was a foreigner. The rich man adds to his store, and the poor man becomes a beggar. He is ruined, but " makes no sign." The ladies who have collected ounces and made purses send their -friends and admirers to the tables to try their luck for them ; and in some of the inferior houses the senoras of the lower class occa sionally try their fortune for themselves. I saw one of these, who had probably lost, by no means "taking it cooUy." She looked. like an overcharged thundercloud ; but whether she broke forth in anger or in tears, thunder or rain, we did not stay to see. In short, it is an aU-pervading mania; and as man is " a bundle of- habits," the most moral persons in this country (always excepting one or two ladies who express their opinion strongly against it) see nothing in it to condemn, and are surprised at the effect it produces on a stranger; and, indeed, after a few years' residence here, a foreigner almost becomes reconciled to these abuses, by the veil of • decorum with which they are covered. 190 LIFE IN MEXICO. We returned to San Antonio in the brightest possible moonhght, and in perfect safety, it being on ,the highroad to Mexico, and therefore guarded by soldiers. We heard the next morning, that a nephew of General B 's, who had ventured npom going by a cross-road to his house at Mizcuaque, has been attacked and robbed of his winnings, "besides .being severely wounded. This being the. natural consequence, the morale to the story can excite no surprise. The robbers who, in hopes of plunder, flock down at the time of the fete; like sopilotes seeking carrion, hide themselves among the bar ren rocks of the Pedregal, and render all cross-roads insecure, except with a very strong escort. i An anecdote was related to us this morning, by a member of the cabinet ; a striking one amongst the innumerable instances of For tune's caprices. A very rich Spaniard, proprietor of several haci endas, attended the fete at San Agustin, and having won three thousand ounces, ordered the money to be carried in sacks to his carriage, and prepared to return to Mexico along with his wife. His carriage was just setting off, when a friend of his came out of an adjoining house, and requested him to'stayto breakfast, to which he agreed. After breakfast, there being a monti table in the house, at which some of his acquaintances were playing, he put down two ounces, and lost. He continued playing and losing, until he had lost his three thousand ounces, which were sent for and transferred to the winners. He still continued playing with a terrible infatua tion, tiU he had lost his whole fortune. He went on Mindly, staking one hacienda after another, and property of aU sorts, until the sun, which had risen upon him a rich and prosperous man, set, leaving him a beggar ! It is said that he bore this extraordinary and sudden reverse with the utmost equanimity. He left a son, whom we have seen at San Agustin, where he earns his UveUhood as croupier at the gambKng-tables. Casa de Moneda, 6th July. Here we are, re-established in Mexico, for a short time at least, and not without difficulty has it been accompUshed. We left the country with some regret, as this is the pleasantest time of the year for being there, and everything was looking green and beautiful. We came in, ourselves, in