LETTER THE SIXTH.
Departure from Puebla — Chirimoyas — Rio Frio — Indian Game — Black Forest — Valley of Mexico — Recollections of Tenochtitlan — Mexican Officer — Reception — Scenery — Variety of Dresses — Cheers — Storm of Rain — Entry to Mexico — Buenavista — House by day-light — Sights from the windows — Visits — Mexican Etiquette-— Countess C a — Flowers in December — Serenade — Patriotic Hymn.
We left Puebla between four and five in the morning, as we purposely made some delay, not wishing to reach Mexico too early, and in so doing, acted contrary to the advice of Don Miguel, who was generally right in these matters. The day was very fine when we set off, though rain was predicted. Some of the gentlemen had gone to the theatre the night before, to see the Nacimiento, and the audience had been composed entirely of Gentuza, the common people, who were drinking brandy, and smoking; so it was fortunate that we had not shown our faces there.
The country was now flat, but fertile, and had on the whole more of a European look than any we had yet passed through.
At Rio Prieto, a small village where we changed horses, I found that I had been sitting very comfortably with my feet in a basket of chirimoyas, and that my brodequins, white gown, and cloak, had been all drenched with the milky juice, and then made black by the floor of the diligence.
With no small difficulty a trunk was brought down, and another dress procured, to the great amusement of the Indian women, who begged to know if my gown was the last fashion, and said it was "muy guapa," very pretty. Here we found good hot coffee, and it being Christmas day, everyone was clean and dressed for mass.
At Rio Frio, which is about thirteen leagues from Mexico, and where there is a pretty good posada in a valley surrounded by woods, we stopped to dine. The inn is kept by a Bordelaise and her husband, who wish themselves in Bordeaux twenty times a day. In front of the house, some Indians were playing at a curious and very ancient game—a sort of swing, resembling "El Juego de los Voladores," The game of the Flyers," much in vogue amongst the ancient Mexicans. Our French hostess gave us a good dinner, especially excellent potatoes, and jelly of various sorts, regaling us with plenty of stories of robbers and robberies and horrid murders all the while.
On leaving Rio Frio, the road became more hilly and covered with woods, and we shortly entered the tract known by the name of the Black Forest, a great haunt for banditti, and a beautiful specimen of forest scenery, a succession of lofty oaks, pines and cedars, with wild flowers lighting up their gloomy green. But I confess, that the impatience which I felt to see Mexico, the idea that in a few hours we should actually be there, prevented me from enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and made the road appear interminable.
But at length we arrived at the heights looking down upon the great valley, celebrated in all parts of the world, with its frame-work of everlasting mountains, its snow-crowned volcanoes, great lakes, and fertile plains, all surrounding the favored city of Montezuma, the proudest boast of his conqueror, once of Spain's many diadems the brightest. But the day had overcast, nor is this the most favorable road for entering Mexico. The innumerable spires of the distant city were faintly seen. The volcanoes were enveloped in clouds, all but their snowy summits, which seemed like marble domes towering into the sky. But as we strained our eyes to look into the valley, it all appeared to me rather like a vision of the Past, than the actual, breathing Present. The curtain of Time seemed to roll back, and to discover to us the great panorama that burst upon the eye of Cortes when he first looked down upon the tableland; the king-loving. God-fearing conqueror, his loyalty and religion so blended after the fashion of ancient Spain, that it were hard to say which sentiment exercised over him the greater sway. The city of Tenochtitlan, standing in the midst of the five great lakes, upon verdant and flower-covered islands, a western Venice, with thousands of boats gliding swiftly along its streets, long lines of low houses, diversified by the multitudes of pyramidal temples, the Teocalli, or houses of God—canoes covering the mirrored lakes—the lofty trees, the flowers, and the profusion of water now wanting to the landscape—the whole fertile valley enclosed by its eternal hills and snow-crowned volcanoes—what scenes of wonder and of beauty, to burst upon the eyes of these wayfaring men!
Then the beautiful gardens surrounding the city, the profusion of flowers, and fruit, and birds—the mild bronze-colored Emperor himself, advancing in the midst of his Indian nobility, with rich dress and unshod feet, to receive his unbidden and unwelcome guest—the slaves and the gold and the rich plumes, all to be laid at the feet of "His most sacred Majesty"—what pictures are called up by the recollection of the simple narrative of Cortes, and how forcibly they return to the mind, now, when after a lapse of three centuries, we behold for the first time, the city of palaces raised upon the ruins of the Indian Capital! It seemed scarcely possible that we were indeed so near the conclusion of our journey, and in the midst of so different a scene, only two months minus two days since leaving New York and stepping on board the Norma. How much land and sea we had passed over since then! How much we had seen! How many different climates, even in the space of the last four days!
But my thoughts which had wandered three centuries into the past, were soon recalled to the present, by the arrival of an officer in full uniform, at the head of his troop, who came out by order of the government, to welcome the bearer of the olive branch from ancient Spain, and had been on horseback since the day before, expecting our arrival. As it had begun to rain, the officer, Colonel Miguel Andrade, accepted our offer of taking shelter in the diligence. We had now a great troop galloping along with us, and had not gone far, before we perceived that in spite of the rain, and that it already began to grow dusk, there were innumerable carriages and horsemen forming an immense crowd, all coming out to welcome us. Shortly after, the diligence was stopped, and we were requested to get into a very splendid carriage, all crimson and gold, with the arms of the republic, the eagle and nopal, embroidered in gold on the roof inside, and drawn by four handsome white horses. In the midst of this immense procession of troops, carriages and horsemen, we made our entry into the city of Montezuma.
The scenery on this side of Mexico is arid and flat, and where the waters of the Lagunas, covered with their gay canoes, once surrounded the city, forming canals through its streets, we now see melancholy marshy lands, little enlivened by great flights of wild duck and water fowl. But the bleakness of the natural scenery was concealed by the gay appearance of the procession—the scarlet and gold uniforms, the bright-colored sarapes, the dresses of the gentlemen, (most I believe Spaniards) with their handsome horses, high Mexican saddles, gold embroidered anqueras generally of black fur, their Mexican hats ornamented with gold, richly-furred jackets, pantaloons with hanging silver buttons, stamped leather boots, silver stirrups and graceful mangas with black or colored velvet capes.At the gates of Mexico, the troops halted, and three enthusiastic cheers were given as the carriage entered. It was now nearly dusk, and the rain was falling in torrents, yet we met more carriages full of ladies and gentlemen which joined the others. We found that a house in the suburbs, at Buenavista, had been taken for us provisoirement by the kindness of the Spaniards, especially of a rich merchant who accompanied us in the carriage, Don Ml Mz del Co; consequently we passed all through Mexico before reaching our destination, always in the midst of the crowd, on account of which and of the ill-paved streets, we went very slowly. Through the rain and the darkness, we got an occasional faint lamp-light glimpse of high buildings, churches and convents. Arrived at length, in the midst of torrents of rain, Cn got out of the carriage, and returned thanks for his reception, giving some ounces to the sergeant for the soldiers. We then entered the house, accompanied by the Mexican officer, and by a large party of Spaniards.
We found the house very good, especially considering that it had been furnished for us in eight-and forty hours, and we also found an excellent supper smoking on the table, after doing justice to which, we took leave of our friends, and very tired, prepared for sleep.
The servants and luggage arrived late. They had been left with the diligence, under the guardianship of Don Miguel, and it appeared that the robbers had mingled with the crowd, and followed in hopes of plunder, insomuch that he had been obliged to procure two carriages, one for the servants, while into another he put the luggage, mounting in front himself to look out. Tired enough the poor man was, and drenched with rain, and we found that much of this confusion and difficulty, which was chiefly caused by the storm and darkness, would have been avoided had we left Puebla some hours sooner.
However, "All's well that ends well." I thought of Christmas in "Merrie England," and of our family gatherings in the olden time, and as if one had not travelled enough in the body, began travelling in the mind, away to far different, and distant, and long gone-by scenes, fell asleep at length with my thoughts in Scotland, and wakened in Mexico!
By day-light we find our house very pretty, with a large garden adjoining, full of flowers, and rosebushes in the court-yard, but being all on the ground-floor, it is somewhat damp, and the weather, though beautiful, is so cool in the morning, that carpets, and I sometimes think even a soupçon of fire, would not be amiss. The former we shall soon procure, but there are neither chimneys nor grates, and I have no doubt a fire would be disagreeable for more than an hour or so in the morning. The house stands alone, with a large court before it, and opposite to it passes the great stone aqueduct, a magnificent work of the Spaniards, though not more so, probably, than those which supplied the ancient Tenochtitlan with water. Behind it, we see nothing but several old houses, with trees, so that we seem almost in the country. To the right is one large building, with garden and olive-ground, where the English legation formerly lived, a palace in size, since occupied by Santa Anna, and which now belongs to Señor Perez Galvez; a house which we shall be glad to have, if the proprietor will consent to let it.
But what most attracts our attention, are the curious and picturesque groups of figures which we see from the windows—men bronze-color, with nothing but a piece of blanket thrown round them, carrying lightly on their heads earthen basins, precisely the color of their own skin, so that they look altogether like figures of terra cotta: these basins filled with sweetmeats or white pyramids of grease (mantequilla); women with rebosos, short petticoats of two colors, generally all in rags, yet with a lace border appearing on their under garment: no stockings, and dirty white satin shoes, rather shorter than their small brown feet; gentlemen on horseback with their Mexican saddles and sarapes; lounging léperos, moving bundles of rags, coming to the windows and begging with a most piteous but false-sounding whine, or lying under the arches and lazily inhaling the air and the sunshine, or sitting at the door for hours basking in the sun or under the shadow of the wall; Indian women, with their tight petticoat of dark stuff and tangled hair, plaited with red ribbon, laying down their baskets to rest, and meanwhile deliberately examining the hair of their copper-colored offspring. We have enough to engage our attention for the present.
Several visiters came early—gentlemen, both Spaniards and Mexicans. Señor Az, decidedly the ugliest man I ever beheld, with a hump on his back, and a smile of most portentous hideosity, yet celebrated for his bonnes fortunes; Señor de Ga, Ex-Minister of the Treasury, extremely witty and agreeable, and with some celebrity as a dramatic writer; Count Ca, formerly attached to the bed-chamber in Spain, married to a pretty Andalusian, and entirely Mexicanized, his heart where his interests are. He is very gentlemanlike and distinguished-looking, with good manners, and extremely eloquent in conversation. I hear him called "inconsecuente," and capricious, but he has welcomed Cn, who knew him intimately in Madrid, with all the warmth of ancient friendship.
We are told that a great serenade has been for some time in contemplation, to be given to Cn, the words, music and performance by the young Spaniards resident here.
27th.—A day or two must elapse before I can satisfy my curiosity by going out, while the necessary arrangements are making concerning carriage and horses, or mules, servants, &c.; our vehicles from the United States not having yet arrived, nor is it difficult to foresee, even from once passing through the streets, that only the more solid-built English carriages will stand the wear and tear of a Mexican life, and that the comparatively flimsy coaches which roll over the well-paved streets of New York, will not endure for any length of time.
Meanwhile we have constant visits, but chiefly from gentlemen and from Spaniards, for there is one piece of etiquette, entirely Mexican, nor can I imagine from whence derived, by which it is ordained that all new arrivals, whatever be their rank, foreign Ministers not excepted, must in solemn print give notice to every family of any consideration in the capital, that they have arrived, and offer themselves and their house to their "disposicion;" failing in which etiquette, the newly-arrived family will remain unnoticed and unknown. Our cards to this effect are consequently being printed under the auspices of Count Ca. I have, however, received the visits of some ladies who have kindly waved this ceremony in my favor; and amongst others, from the Dowager and the young Countesses of Ca; the eldest a very distinguished woman, of great natural talent, one of the true ladies of the old school, of whom not many specimens now remain in Mexico; the other, extremely pretty, lively and amiable, a true Andalusian both in beauty and wit. The old Countess was dressed in black velvet, black blonde mantilla, diamond ear-rings and brooch—her daughter-in-law also in black, with a mantilla, and she had a pretty little daughter with her, whose eyes will certainly produce a kindling effect on the next generation.
They were both extremely kind and cordial; if there are many such persons in Mexico, we shall have no reason to complain. I hope I am not seeing the cream before the milk!
Some Mexican visits appear to me to surpass in duration all that one can imagine of a visit, rarely lasting less than one hour, and sometimes extending over a great part of the day. And gentlemen at least, arrive at no particular time. If you are going to breakfast, they go also—if to dinner, the same—if you are asleep, they wait till you awaken—if out, they call again. An indifferent sort of man, whose name I did not even hear, arrived yesterday a little after breakfast, sat still, and walked in to a late dinner with us! These should not be called visits, but visitations, though I trust they do not often occur to that extent. An open house and an open table for your friends—which includes every passing acquaintance; these are merely Spanish habits of hospitality transplanted.
Had a visit from Señor and his wife, very civil and obliging people, always agreeing with each other, and with you, and with all the world, almost to the extent of Polonius to Hamlet. Our conversation reminded me of that the whole time they were here.
I have just brought from the garden a lap-full of pink roses, clove carnations and sweet pease. Rosetta could not sing here—
"For June and December will never agree."
The weather is lovely, the air fresh and clear, the sky one vast expanse of bright blue, without a single cloud. Early this morning it was cool, but now, by ten o'clock, the air is as soft and balmy as on a summer day with us.
28th.—Day of the memorable serenade. After dinner, some ladies paid me a visit, amongst others the wife and daughter of the Spanish consul, Señor My, who were accompanied by the sister of Count Aa. They and a few gentlemen arrived about six o'clock, and it was said that the serenade would not begin till twelve. It may be supposed that our conversation, however agreeable it might be, would scarcely hold out that time. In fact, by nine o'clock, we were all nearly overcome by sleep, and by ten I believe we were already in a refreshing slumber, when we were awakened by the sound of crowds assembling before the door, and of carriages arriving and stopping. Not knowing who the occupants might be, we could not invite them in, which seemed very inhospitable, as the night, though fine, was cold and chilly. About eleven Count and Countess Ca arrived, and the Señora de Ga, a remarkably handsome woman, a Spaniard, looking nearly as young as her daughters—also the pretty daughters of the proprietress of this house, who was a beauty, and is married to her third husband, and a lively little talkative person, the Señora de Ln, all Spanish; and who, some on that account, and others from their husbands having been former friends of Cn's have not waited for the ceremony of receiving cards. Gradually, however, several Mexican ladies, whom we had sent out to invite, came in. Others remained in their carriages, excusing themselves on the plea of their not being en toilette. We had men à discretion, and the rooms were crowded.
About midnight, arrived a troop of Mexican soldiers, carrying torches, and a multitude of musicians, both amateur and professional, chiefly the former, and men carrying music-stands, violins, violoncellos, French horns, &.C., together with an immense crowd, mingled with numbers of léperos, so that the great space in front of the house as far as the aqueduct, and all beyond and along the street as far as we could see, was covered with people and carriages. We threw open the windows, which are on a level with the ground, with large balconies and wide iron gratings, and the scene by the torch light was very curious. The Mexican troops holding lights for the musicians; and they of various countries, Spanish, German and Mexican; the léperos with their ragged blankets and wild eyes that gleamed in the light of the torches, the ladies within and the crowd without, all formed a very amusing spectacle.
At length the musicians struck up in full chorus, accompanied by the whole orchestra. The voices were fine, and the instrumental music so good, I could hardly believe that almost all were amateur performers.
A hymn, which had been composed for the occasion, and of which we had received an elegantly bound copy in the morning, was particularly effective. The music was composed by Señor Retes, and the words by Señor Covo, both Spaniards. Various Overtures from the last Operas were played, and at the end of what seemed to be the first act, in the midst of deafening applause from the crowd, Cn made me return thanks from the window in beautiful impromptu Spanish! Then came shouts of "Viva la Espana!" "Viva Ysabel Segunda!" "Viva el Ministro de España!" Great and continued cheering. Then Cn gave in return "Viva la Republica Mexicana!" "Viva Bustamante!" and the shouting was tremendous. At last an Andalusian in the crowd shouted out "Viva todo el Mundo!" Long live every body; which piece of wit was followed by general laughter.
After hot punch and cigars had been handed about out of doors, a necessary refreshment in this cold night, the music recommenced, and the whole ended with the national hymn of Spain, with appropriate words. A young Spanish girl, whose voice is celebrated here, was then entreated by those within, and beseeched by those without, to sing alone the Hymn composed in honor of Cn, which she naturally felt some hesitation in doing, before such an immense audience. However, she consented at last, and in a voice like a clarion, accompanied by the orchestra, sung each verse alone, joined in the chorus, by the whole crowd. I give you a copy.
Himno Patriotico qne varios Españoles Residentes en México Dedican al Esmo Sr. Don A C de la B, Ministro Plenipotenciario de S. M. C. en la Republica, con Motivo de su llegada á dicha Capital.
Musica del Sr. J. N. de Retes; Palabras del Sr, Dn. Juan Covo.
CORO.
Triunfamos Amigos,
Triunfamos enfin,
Y libre respira La Patria del Ciel.
La Augusta Cristina
De España embeleso,
El mas tierno beso
Imprime á Ysabel:
Y reina, le dice
No la sobre esclavos;
Sobre Iberos bravos
Sobre un pueblo fiel.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Donde está de Carlos
La perfida hueste?
Un rayo celeste
Polvo la tornó.
Rayo que al malvado
Hundió en el abismo
Rayo que al Carlismo
Libertad lanzó.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Al bravo Caudillo
Al bueno al valiente
Ciñamos la frente
De mirto y laurel.
Tu diestra animosa
Heroico guerrero
Tu diestra, Espartero
Sojuzgo al infiel.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Veranse acatadas
Nuestras santas leyes;
Temblaran los Reyes
De España al poder.
Y el cetro de oprobrio
Si empuña un tirano
De su infame mano
Le harémos caer.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Salud á Ysabela
Salud á Cristina
Que el cielo destina
La patria á salvar.
Y el libre corone
La Candida frente
De aquella inocente
Que juro amparar.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Y tu, Mensagero
De paz y ventura
Oye la voz pura
De nuestra lealtad,
Oye los acentos
Que al cielo elevamos
Oye cual gritamos
Patria.! Libertad.!
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
Tu el simbolo digno
Serás Cn,
De grata reunión
De eterna Amistad
Que ya en ambos mundos
La insana discordia
Trocose en concordia
Y fraternidad.
Triunfamos Amigos, &c.
TRANSLATION.
Patriotic Hymn which various Spaniards, resident in Mexico, Dedicate to His Excellency Señor Don A C de la B, Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary from H. C. M. to the Republic, to celebrate his arrival in this Capital.
The music by Señor Don J. N. de Retes; the words by Señor Don Juan Covo.
CHORUS.
Let us triumph my friends.
Let us triumph at length.
And let the country of the Cid
Breathe freely again.
The august Christina
The ornament of Spain
Imprinted the most tender kiss
On the cheek of Isabel.
And "reign," she said to her,
"Not now over slaves,
But over brave Iberians
Over a faithful people!"
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
Where is the perfidious
Army of Carlos?
A celestial thunderbolt
Has turned it to dust.
A thunderbolt which plunged
The wicked one into the abyss,
A thunberbolt which Liberty
Lanched against Carlism.
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
Of the brave chief.
Of the good, the valiant.
Let us gird the forehead
With myrtle and laurel.
Thy brave right hand
Heroic warrior
Thy right hand, Espartero
Subdued the Disloyal One.
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
Our holy laws
Will be acknowledged,
And kings will tremble
At the power of Spain.
And should a tyrant grasp
The sceptre of opprobrium,
From his infamous hand
We shall cause it to fall.
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
Health to Isabella
Health to Christina
Whom Heaven has destined
To save the country,
And may he freely crown
The white forehead
Of the innocent princess
He swore to protect.
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
And thou, Messenger
Of peace and joy.
Hear the pure voice
Of our loyalty.
Hear the accents
Which we raise to Heaven,
Hear what we cry
Country! Liberty!
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
Thou, Cn, shalt be
The worthy symbol
Of grateful reunion
Of eternal friendship.
Which already has changed
In both worlds
Insane Discord
Into concord and fraternity.
Let us triumph my friends, &c.
The air was rent with vivas! and bravos! as the Señorita de F concluded. Her voice was beautiful, and after the first moment of embarrassment, she sang with much spirit and enthusiasm. This was the finale of the serenade, and then the serenaders were invited in, and were in such numbers that the room would scarcely hold them all. More cigars, more punch, more giving of thanks. About three o'clock, the crowd began to disperse, and at length after those Spanish leave-takings, which are really no joke, had ended, Captain E, Cn and I, all three excessively cold and shivering, having passed the night at the open windows, consoled ourselves with hot chocolate and punch, and went to dream of sweet-sounding harmonies. Altogether, it was a scene which I would not have missed for a great deal.
The enthusiasm caused by the arrival of the first minister from Spain seems gradually to increase. The actors are to give him a "funcion extraordinaria," in the theatre—the matadors a bull-fight extraordinary, with fire-works. . . . But in all this you must not suppose there is any personal compliment. It is merely intended as a mark of good will towards the first representative of the Spanish monarchy who brings from the mother country the formal acknowledgment of Mexican independence.