LETTER VIII.
We found, on our return to the city, after the excursion in the environs as detailed in my last, that the good humour of the inhabitants, which I have described as a little frozen during Lent, was undergoing a gradual thaw.
The government of the country had repented its stern conduct to the votaries of Terpsichore, Euterpe, and Thalia, and the long train of petty artists attached to the corps d'opera. It had graciously revoked the edict of banishment—had advanced a part of the money justly claimed by the contract—and had agreed to favour with its countenance a certain number of further representations. Moreover, personified by a boxful of gaudily dressed officials and employés, it consented to wag its long ears in approbation, while Pellegrini agitated her larynx in the character of Semiramis; and to clap its hands at the sight of the sexagenarian Galli, tightly braced up to perform the role of the lithe and active scoundrel Figaro. All the world went to the opera!
And all the world went to the bullfights—and we went too; and, the butchery apart, the scene presented in the great amphitheatre, not far from the Alameda de las Vigas, was an animating and beautiful one.
The form and arrangement of the wooden structure need not be very minutely described. It contains the usual gradations of covered galleries and uncovered ranges of seats, to afford fitting accommodation to both rich and poor. There are four great tiers of lodges with subdivisions, capable of containing thirty thousand people. We may have seen ten thousand collected there of all degrees, from the presiding alcalde and his fellows, to the half-naked guachinango; damas, paysanos, poblanitas—individuals of every hue and breed, for the diversity of which Mexico is pre-eminent.[1] The brilliancy of colouring and great variety of costumes visible throughout the assemblage; and the intense blue of the cloudless sky above; the masses of light and shadow resting upon the domes and broad walls of a large church—which is the only object without visible from the interior of the amphitheatre—produced a picture of great beauty; without even taking into account the scenes enacted upon the spacious arena at your feet.
A very detailed account of a bullfight would be no novelty to you, the ceremony having been described and sung, in prose and verse, usque ad nauseam. If it is a brutal and heartless exhibition in Spain, where, after all, it is attended with some risk to the parties engaged from the strength and vigour of the noble animal that is the object of the sport—it is so here in a tenfold degree; as of all bulls I ever saw, the Mexican is the weakest and the most spiritless. Instead of the compact concentration of animal strength visible in the massive form, nervous limbs, short neck, and majestic port of a European bull—English, Spanish, or Swiss—you see animals turned into the arena, with a demeanour unworthy of even a decent cow—hollow-backed, long-legged, long-horned, nerveless animals, whose first impulse is to get out of the way, and whose courage is the courage of desperation.
The pomp and circumstances of the spectacle—the costumes of the different orders of actors—the picadores, bandarillos, and matadores, are precisely the same as are seen in the mother country.
The first trumpet call from the alcalde's box gives a token to the soldiers—who, with a military band, are always in attendance—to clear the arena of the sovereign people, some hundreds of whom always take care to remain strolling over its surface till the very last moment, all for the honour, apparently, of receiving an energetic application of the butt end of a musket. This we saw dispensed right and left, sans cérémonie.
The second signal brings in the whole of the dramatis personæ, horse and foot, led onward in procession by the mounted lancemen or picadores, and terminated by the butcher, garbed decently in white, and an humble but gallant youth trundling a wheelbarrow. After saluting the alcalde, and making the circuit, they separate into groups. The picadores place themselves about the mouth of the passage which leads to the den; the bandarillos and matadores recline against the breastwork which separates the arena from the circular passage at the foot of the lower seats; while the train of six mules, gayly caparisoned, three abreast, vanish through one of the gateways; and are followed by the spotless butcher and the wheelbarrow man—and all await the given signal.
It sounds! and out comes the bull! Perhaps he gives a push, en passant, at one of the picadores, but most probably not. If he does so, neither horse nor man are the worse for it, for the former is fully protected from the horns of the animal by the strong leather caparison, which are, moreover, considerately tipped to prevent bloodshed: and the latter takes good care to run no risk. The generality of the bulls, of which eight are despatched on each representation, did their best to avoid the contest; and in several instances proved their nimbleness by jumping the breastwork. When teased beyond endurance, they would fight feebly, and perhaps overthrow a horse and rider, but it was evidently mere play to their opponents. When the picadores could extract no more courage from the exhausted animal, the footmen plied their childish and inglorious game of petty annoyance and torture, with barbed darts and fireworks, till, thoroughly spent and jaded, the poor brute was given over to the matador, whose clumsy but pompous attempt at giving a death wound, had almost in every instance to be seconded by the butcher. The clever professional coup de grace of the latter was really administered in mercy. The mules then galloped in—were attached to the dead animal, and scoured as quickly out, again followed, as before, by the nimble wheelbarrow man whose spadeful of sand had meantime obliterated all signs of the tragedy. In short, there is nothing in a Mexican bullfight to tempt a second visit, and nothing distinguishing it from those in Spain, if I except one custom, which I should judge to be peculiar to this country, though I may be mistaken.
Whenever it happens that a bull is so averse to afford sport that he can neither be coaxed nor irritated to fight, but shuns all encounters, a cry of caula! caula! (tail! tail!) is raised by the populace.
On a note of approval issuing from the alcalde's trumpet, two or more horsemen, better mounted than the ordinary picadores, and distinguished from them by being without weapons, are seen to rush forward, at full speed, in pursuit of the recreant bull, who very naturally runs for his life with fresh vigour, round and round the arena.
The most adroit of his pursuers, on coming up to his left flank, catches hold of the tail with the right hand, and passing it under his own right leg, gives it a turn round the raised pummel of the saddle, at the same time that he suddenly wheels his horse round at right angles by the pressure of the powerful bit, a manœuvre which rarely fails to throw the bull on his back. This may appear very surprising; but a moment's reflection will show you, if you put yourself in the bull's place, that the feat can hardly fail of being successful, provided you run very fast, and your pursuer contrives to get a very firm hold of your tail.
It was now verging towards the middle of April, and the advance of the season combined with other considerations to make us fix our departure from Vera Cruz by the New-York packet of the first of May.
To effect this in the most prudential manner, now that the yellow fever was rife on the coast, was incumbent upon men who, after all done and said, valued their lives, and were looking towards home after an absence of upward of two years.
For many days it was impossible to see our way clearly, on account of the conflicting opinions in the capital, as to the precise time of sailing. There was a variation of eight or ten days in these rumours; at the same time that we were counselled on all hands not to descend into the infected region one hour before it was imperatively necessary.
At length all seemed arranged. We despatched the bulk of our baggage to the coast, by the arrieros; the precise hour of sailing seemed fixed, and determining to take a circuitous road to Puebla de los Angeles, we counted upon arriving at Jalapa some days before the time specified, and on remaining there till the very last moment before we should be obliged to go on board.
In defiance of the businesslike duties which occupied us the latter days of our stay, however, I contrived to extend my knowledge of the vicinity of the capital by various excursions of a greater or lesser range from the barriers. And from these, you may pardon my singling out one, which I made to the Desierto, a ruined and forsaken Carmelite monastery, perched on the sierra to the westward, about seven leagues distant from the capital. My companion for the day was an English resident of the city; and two mounted domestics completed our company.
We left the city at sunrise, and passing along the line of the aqueduct to Chapultepec, followed the road to the left towards Tacubaya. We skirted that beautiful village, and began the ascent of the sterile, upland tract immediately behind, by the main road leading across the mountains to the elevated plateau of Toluca.[2]
The bareness of the first part of the ascent is extreme; and cultivation is confined to a few plantations of maguey in the vicinity of the scattered villages, or on the immediate border of the rivulets flowing down the barrancas, with which the flanks of the mountains are seen lo be everywhere furrowed. All these slopes were once covered with forests, but the heedless destruction of the timber by the conquerors has entailed the loss of the soil, which they nourished and protected from the dry air of the climate and the effects of the abundant rains of the wet season.
Shortly after passing the village of Santa Fe, we quitted the beaten track to Toluca, and descended into a deep barranca to the left; continuing to follow it for some miles, till the broad ravine dwindled to a green upland glen. We now reached the wooded region of the mountain; and, in fine, struck into the ancient paved road leading to the Desierto. In former times this route afforded a comparatively easy access to the inhabitants of the capital, with whom, at certain seasons, a visit to this monastery was an object of great importance. The calzada, though in perfect preservation, and confined between low walls, is solitary enough now. It winds upward through woods, which, in their character and productions, reminded me more of England than those of any part of New Spain I had seen. Thickets of roses and wild brier occupied the ground under the lofty deciduous trees; while the occurrence of little patches of greensward, covered with a species of daisy, and many other flowers which are characteristic of our own climate, added no little to the resemblance.
On attaining the elevation of the little shelf, upon which the monastery is situated, towards the head of a steep gully in the breast of the sierra, the pine begins to predominate, and probably in former times it was the principal forest tree of the whole chain. We found the Desierto situated amid a wilderness of flowering shrubs, which, since the hand of time has unroofed a great portion of the structure, have shed their seeds into the courts, till they were positively choked with bushes. Nor was the elder here wanting—that never-failing parasite of the gray ruined abbeys and castles of England.
The architecture of the building, which was erected soon after the conquest, is by no means distinguished for elegance; strength having been evidently much more valuable in the eyes of the builders.
The distribution of the different parts was that usual in monastic erections, and the whole style heavy in the extreme. The cloisters and many of the cells still retained their strong-arched roof, and the stucco on their walls.
Here, sheltered in the wooded hills, far away from the great roads; perched a thousand feet above the broad plain, and its glistening lakes and splendid city, with many a league of rough hill and deep barranca between, it might have been supposed that the barefooted brethren would surely have been permitted to lead their life of retirement and reflection in undisturbed quiet; and that their bells would continue to wake the echoes of the hills, as long as their faith was the faith of the thousands in the plain below: but no! they were richly endowed; and throughout their former seat it was evident that the hand of violence, more than that of time, had produced the utter ruin visible on every side. The view from the Desierto, owing to the peculiarity of the situation between two hills, is confined almost altogether to the surrounding woods.
A solitary family of Indian woodcutters occupied one of the outbuildings; and here upon the grass, under the shade of a group of ancient trees, we luxuriated for several hours in the delicious air of the mountains, till the heat of the day being on the wane, we awoke our sleeping mozos and mounting our horses, began our descent towards the city.
The view which burst upon us, as, escaping from the ravine of the Desierto, we gained a projecting woody knoll on the side of the mountain, impending over the great barranca before mentioned, was of matchless magnificence. The day had been altogether cloudless; but during our ascent, the sun shone too brightly; and a rich purple haze had thrown a kind of veil over the more distant parts of the plain, and the great chain to the eastward.
Now the whole scene before us was bathed in a flood of clear light, and the forms and colouring of the most distant objects were distinctly visible through an atmosphere of the greatest transparency and purity.
Beyond the broken country at our feet, and the fertile region, we saw the broad expanse of plain, stretching from the mountains behind Guadaloupe, far towards the south, with its groups of volcanic hills breaking the monotony of the surface. Directly in advance—the centre of the vast picture—lay the miniature domes and towers of the capital, distinct, from their number and colouring; beyond, the blue and broad surface of Lake Tezcuco, from end to end, with the Peñon de los Baños upon the shore, and the great mole of San Cristobal at the northern extremity. Exactly over the city, at the base of the eastern chain, great as was the distance, we could distinctly recognise the towns of Tezcuco and Huejutla, and the Hacienda of Chapingo—the dark line of the Contador, and even still farther removed, the form of the great pyramids of San Juan Teotihuacan. The latter could not be less than forty miles distant in a straight line.
How many times in descending, at every fresh turn, did we draw our bridles to gaze upon this noble and remarkable landscape, which increased in beauty hour by hour! I shall never forget the view presented as we gained the last step of the descent before entering Tacubaya, when that beautiful verdant region of gardens and orchards in which it and the neighbouring villages lay opened at our feet, and the Archiepiscopal Palace, the noble church, and the hill and palace of Chapultepec, formed the middle ground to the more distant prospect, the main features of which, though diminished in extent, remained the same: nor, as sunset approached, can I forget the gorgeous and inimitable colouring of the great vista to the southeast, where the receding mountains rose one above the other, in purple, violet, and gold, till crowned by the towering snow-clad summit of the Great Volcano, gleaming in the evening sky.
To the last hour of our stay in the city of Mexico, we made ample experience of the instability and fickleness of the people with whom we had to do. On the very morning of our proposed departure, after endless troubles in getting together the bipeds and quadrupeds deemed necessary for our journey, Mariano's defection was announced with many signs of sorrow by Garcia; and in despair, we had to hire the first rogue who offered himself, on his own terms.
However, set out we did, on the evening of April the 19th, our party consisting of our three selves, Mr. E., an English artist, and his domestic—our two mozos, Garcia and Jose Maria—and lastly, an arriero with three beasts of burden. Our fat mule Macho, who had never stirred out of Don Floresco's stable during our month's stay in the city, issued forth as fat and sleek as a dormouse, and testified his joy at his escape by kicking every one who approached him.
A little after dusk we entered San Augustin de los Cuestos, and found a tolerable posada, where we hired our apartments, and spent the night. I have surely not omitted to describe what the traveller's accommodation in these Mexican inns consists of—four walls, a roof, and a mud floor—a table sometimes, but not often—a bench perchance, but very seldom—and very frequently nothing to eat but what you bring with you, and nothing to drink but bad water—with a convenient answer to every observation or question, "Quien sabe?" and to every civil requisition, "No hay; nada, signor!"
I say nothing of our array and mode of equipment, as they were precisely the same as on our upward journey from the coast, with the exception, as you will remark, of a diminished train of baggage and baggage mules. Our present arriero reminded us of Espindola, by his dogged honesty and general desire to oblige; though in other respects very inferior to him. Garcia was not a bad representative of the valiant Julian, as he was just as much inclined to act the rapacious villain, to get fuddled, and to vapour about his deeds of arms. I believe, however, that he was not quite so cowardly; and would have fought very heroically if he found it absolutely impossible to run away, or save his life by any other means. Jose Maria took the place of Miguel.
All accounts coincided in affording us the perspective of being mercilessly robbed in the course of the following day, either in ascending the mountain, by the bands of Tlalpam, which of course keep a sharp eye upon the parties arriving from the capital—or in the neighbourhood of the Cruz del Marques on the summit, by the band of Toluca, which there finds a convenient lurking-place in the pine forest; or by the band of Cuernavaca, which plies its profession in the broken ground on the steep western slope of the sierra. This was worse than being between hawk and buzzard.
To give you an idea what sort of bargains are made in this country, I may mention that each of our valets had been hired at the rate of eighteen dollars a month, plus four reals a day for their food. Further, we were bound by our contract to allow them at their dismissal at Jalapa, twelve dollars each for their return to the capital, and a horse; or, if they should prefer it, a seat in the stage to Mexico, value thirty dollars. To our arriero we gave eight dollars a day as long as he was in our service.
You might suppose that ordinary cupidity might have been satisfied by such favourable terms; but no, by the assistance of Mr. E., who was an old traveller in this strange country, we detected, at the very outset, a sly contrivance to make us pay for a huge account of tortillas, pulque, Chile, agua ardiente, and so forth, which they demolished daily. This defeat, and our determination to set off before sunrise, soured the temper of our retainers for the first hours of the day; but they seemed subsequently to have made up their minds to smile at grief and disappointment, and return to their ordinary gayety and good humour.
But, en avant!
The day had hardly dawned, when riding past the picturesque church of San Augustin, we were to be seen commencing the ascent of the mountains in the rear, by the great route of the Cruz del Marques, by which communication is kept up between the valley of Mexico and the states towards the Pacific to the west and southwest. It is impassable for carriages; and the whole trade is carried on by means of vast trains of mules. As we ascended, the morning broke over the summits of the mountains of Tlaloc, brightening the snows of the volcanoes, and gradually lighting up the barren tract of the pedrigal to the left, and the vast extent of plain, and the lakes of Xochimilco and Chalco, which lay behind us. The huge flanks of the Ajusco soon hid the part of the valley in which the capital is situated from our view.
Again and again, as we ascended, we turned to look back upon this scene, and it was with something like grief I saw it vanish for ever from my eyes. It seemed to me as if a splendid volume had been laid before me, and that I had been permitted to glance at its title and decorations, but had seen it shut in my face just as I had addressed myself to read.
Some hours elapsed before we reached the summit of the pass.
The road winds over the unequal surface of the mountain for many leagues before it passes the shoulder of the Ajusco. That noble mountain rises to the right, with sides clothed with dark pine forests, and furrowed by deep barrancas. From its highest summit, the height of which I have elsewhere indicated, it is said that the Western Ocean in the vicinity of Acapulco can be distinguished. On the most elevated ridge of the sierra, many short truncated cones mark the different craters by which the floods of lava, and beds of pumice, pebbles, and sand which cover a great portion of the porphyritic trap and basalt composing the cordillera issued forth.
From my passing observations I should suppose that some of these craters have ejected water as well as fire; and particularly the cone which the traveller leaves to the right in traversing the ridge. It has evidently thrown its lavas on both directions; and report says, that one immense stream proceeding from it, or from a neighbouring cone of the Ajusco chain, may be traced down the successive steps of the table land to the very shore of the Pacific.
In process of time we reached the Cruz del Marques,[3] a solid stone cross erected by Cortez, to indicate the bounds of the territory assigned to him by Montezuma.
The shade of the pine forest, which still clothes a great part of the upper region of the mountain, was grateful to us; at the same time that it was the most perilous part of our voyage, so far as the probability of our being robbed went. We passed, however, without molestation, retaining possession of our watches and purses, and the cherished opinion of our being invincible.
If, in quitting the valley of Mexico at daybreak, we had to complain of the cold, noon brought with it a degree of heat for which we were quite unprepared, and it grew in intensity as we descended the steep face of the mountain to the southward. The western slopes of the cordillera of Mexico are far more sudden and inclined than those on the side of the gulf, and the consequence is, that by the route we were now following, after a journey of a few hours' travel, you descend to a level, to reach which, on the opposite side, you must travel for several days.
We had not descended far upon the southwestern slope, before we descried the sea of broad and yellow plain, which here formed the second step of the table land, stretching into the bright haze as far as the eye could penetrate.
As we proceeded, the heat increased; and, as we wound along the edge of the ravines, the road became almost impassable for the horses, from the quantity of rock and stone with which they were strewed: and right glad were we, after passing through a picturesque village, at the foot of the mountain, to find ourselves and our train housed in a comfortable posada, in the town of Cuernavaca, after an uninterrupted ride of sixteen leagues, without halt or refreshment.
I think we treated both ourselves and our quadrupeds with unusual severity on the occasion. But there seemed to be no alternative.
In resolving to take the circuitous route upon which we had now set out, we had a further end in view than that of merely extending our observations a little, by seeing a part of the country which was less known and less hackneyed, than the direct and ordinary one from the capital to Puebla. Ever since we had entered New Spain, it had been a pet scheme to visit certain remarkable remains, existing in the vicinity of Cuernavaca. I refer to the fortified hill and palace of Xochicalco, or the "House of Flowers," of which little was known, but what was to be culled from a small pamphlet in Spanish, written many years ago, from which Humboldt probably gives the few facts mentioned in his Researches. He was unable to visit Xochicalco himself.
Our inquiries in Mexico with regard to the precise position and character of these ruins, were productive of no kind of certain information. Among all our acquaintances, European and native, we could not find more than two or three who had ever heard of their existence; and further, "Quien sabe?" was the answer to everything.
However, hurried as we found we should be, if we intended to leave Vera Cruz on the first of May, we kept steadily to our purpose; and, no sooner had we refreshed ourselves by ablutions and a hearty meal, followed by a basin of excellent lemon ice, and had seen the termination of a savage affray in the opposite house, in which braining with clubs and stones was the fashion, than we set about our inquiries in considerable confidence, as there could be no question but the ruins, after all, were to be found in this neighbourhood. Our host and his neighbours were first applied to. Quien sabe? quien sabe? was all we got for our pains. We went to a young merchant, the only European resident of any standing here: he had never heard of the existence of such a place. At length we determined to make use of a note of introduction to the principal cura of the town; and here we were more successful. He knew that Xochicalco existed, but he had never visited it. According to him, it lay among a group of hills which he pointed out to us from his window, across the great plain, called the Cerro de Xochicalco; and he promised to furnish us with a guide for the following day, and perhaps to accompany us himself He stated the distance was perhaps three, or at most four leagues.
Jaded as we were, we set about our preparations with alacrity. As our speedy advance to the coast was now a matter of absolute necessity, we determined to spare our horses as far as practicable: and, with infinite pains, borrowed two others, in order to leave them to their repose for the time of our absence. We decided to set off at daybreak, leaving Garcia and the arriero to proceed with the mules to the town of Yautepec, six leagues distant: with the intention, on our parts, after our anticipated return from our excursion in the course of the afternoon, to take our fresh horses and follow them thither. Wise and good projects, but, like many human ones, vain nevertheless!
That a restless night should follow a day of excitement and exposure like the last, was not to be wondered at. The doubt which hung over our whole projects of advance to Vera Cruz, and our fate there, did not perhaps mend the matter; and for my part I own, that at dawn, I arose from the floor of the chamber where we were all stowed together with bags and baggage, feverish and unrefreshed.
Just as we rode out of the gateway of our posada, the first sunbeams were shining upon the white summit of Popocatepetl, which now appeared exactly in the east.
Cuernavaca is most nobly situated, on a tongue of land, girdled on three sides by tremendous barrancas; in which, matchless sterility, and the exuberant and broad-leaved vegetation of the tropics, are blended together in an extraordinary manner. It possesses a large church and prison, and many other buildings, the architectural details of which are uncommonly picturesque. I never saw a country where there were richer subjects for the artist, than that in which our rambles were placed for some days to come.
The mule path which we followed, led us for some time along the edge of the great barranca to the west of the town, in a direction nearly due south. But after traversing it by a long descent, and longer ascent, and gaining a village where we took a second guide—the first, furnished by the cura, not being acquainted with the road—we crossed a band of sugar and cotton plantations; and, entering upon the uncultivated stony plains, bent our course a little more to the westward, towards the cerro in advance. Our borrowed horses were wretched animals; and I well remember the hard trot of the emaciated beast which I had the misfortune to bestride; and the galling position in which I was pinioned by a badly constructed Mexican saddle.
By some arrangement of the cura's, which we did not then comprehend, our party had been increased as we left Cuernavaca, by a fine, hardy, bold-looking, armed horseman, who kept us company the whole day, whether as guide or as companion we scarcely knew; though on our return we had a hint given us to pay him a few dollars in quality of the first. He was not talkative; at the same time there was nothing uncourteous in his reserve, or general bearing, which I can best liken to that of a stalwart and stark moss trooper. We had our suspicions at the time that he was a known bandit, whose fidelity and safeguard the good cura had thus thought proper to secure; and we have since had them verified, and found that this was really the case.
The plains over which we now moved, were more barren and inhospitahle in their character than I can describe. The surface, strewed with loose scoria and rock, and brown as the sands of Arabia, produced not a blade of grass; but reflected the hot rays of the sun with a glare which blistered and excoriated the face and hands. And the fervid, glowing, furnacelike heat of the sun I shall never forget! There it hung in the heavens like a blazing ball of copper, shedding its beams through a yellow haze, which, at an early hour of the day, spread a thin transparent veil over the vast plains and their lowering mountain boundary; and as it rose to the zenith, throwing our shadows under our feet, it scorched the skin like fire. In vain the eye was cast abroad in search of relief: every object far and near glared with the reflected brilliance—not a tree, not a rock, not an overhanging bank in the shadowless and thirsty land! The yawning barranca, deep as it might be, formed but a focus, where the sun's rays were concentrated. The very hills in advance seemed to cast no shade. Opinions as to our distance from them, were hazarded and recanted again and again. They loomed in thin haze, till they appeared near at hand, while their lowest swell lay at the distance of many miles. And then the barrancas! Though our previous travelling in this singular country had prepared us for this feature of the plains as well as of the mountain slopes, we had nowhere seen them upon the same scale. One of those we traversed this morning, of which no indication had been observed till we arrived at the very brink, took us an entire hour to traverse. Though water has undoubtedly been an agent in their formation, the origin of the greater number of those tremendous furrows in the surface of the table land is to be traced to the earthquake, and the sudden disruption of the strata by volcanic agency. You see many, in which the two sides, though furlongs apart, exhibit incontestable signs, that their jagged perpendicular walls were once in junction. Every Mexican traveller must have remarked the insidious manner in which many of these gulfs commence. In riding along the plains, you perhaps find yourself separated from the companion with whom you are conversing, by a crack or fissure of a few inches in breadth: you proceed carelessly; the rent gapes imperceptibly wider and wider; and increases in depth, till it imperatively demands your attention. Perhaps a very natural dislike to retrace your steps, and ignorance of the real nature and extent of the obstacle, induces you to keep your direction in search of its termination; when, before you are aware, you find a hideous and impassable gulf yawning between you, delving deep for many miles into the face of the landscape, and no alternative left you but to return to its very source. I sketch from experience. Some of the largest barrancas I have described form beds for the scanty streams descending from the forested slopes of the neighbouring cordillera, and at one of these, about ten in the morning, we quenched for a moment the burning thirst of our party, men and horses.
An hour after, we reached the base of the hills which apparently form a detached group in the table land. For many miles previously we had observed and repeatedly crossed an ancient paved causeway, about eight feet in breadth, composed of large stones tightly wedged together, and running directly over plain and barranca, towards the hill of Xochicalco.
The strange mould of the summit of the steep hill on our left, as we entered the group by a small valley, had long drawn our attention, as it appeared to be surrounded by a regular rampart; but I incline to think that it may be the natural formation.
At the termination of the little valley above mentioned, we arrived at length at the foot of the eminence which was the principal object of our excursion.
The circuit of the hill of Xochicalco, or the House of Flowers, may perhaps measure three miles, and its perpendicular height about three hundred feet. The opinion has been hazarded, that the whole mass is artificial; but it is one I cannot entertain for a moment, as its whole position and general configuration shows it to be one of the group, though there is no doubt but its entire surface, great as it is, has been subjected to a general design, and cased from its summit to its base with artificial work. The decay of centuries, at the same time that it has injured many of the details, yet allows the general plan to be detected. Even the broad moat, which encircled the whole, remains perfectly distinct.
Alighting from our horses at the foot of the hill, which is partially covered with dry brushwood and leafless trees, we scrambled upward from one stage to another, over the crumbling stonework, which, from its steepness occasionally, rendered advance difficult. Four terraces apparently, made the entire circuit at regular intervals of elevation, though occasionally they were not easy to detect, from the accumulation of rubbish.
The intermediate slopes are covered with platforms, bastions, pyramidical and rectangular elevations and stages, one above the other, and other erections of which I can neither describe the exact forms nor guess their appropriation. It is evident that all were faced with the same uncemented stonework, and were accommodated to the natural moulding of the hill, which, however far from regular, was conical in its general outlines. Upon a platform in connection with the highest terrace, we were obliged to leave our horses, before we climbed up a steep, stone-faced declivity, evidently pyramidical in its structure, to the summit.
Thence we commanded a wide view over the neighbouring hills and plains—a scene of matchless sterility, glaring in the noonday sun; and we now saw, that in addition to the paved road from the north which I have mentioned, there were others of precisely the same construction, running towards the "House of Flowers," as to a common centre, from other points of the compass.
From the summit we proceeded to the northward into a hollow square, situated at a somewhat lower elevation, in the centre of which we found the ruins of the remarkable altar, or teocalli, which has been the principal object of speculation or attention.
Though evidently formed upon the same general principles with the other ancient pyramidal structures of New Spain, it differs from every other erection of the class hitherto discovered in Mexico—the pyramid of Papantla excepted—by being wholly constructed of large regularly hewn and symmetrically laid masses of hard and richly sculptured rock, instead of layers of unburnt bricks, or piles of earth and stone.
In its perfect state, which it preserved till a comparatively recent date, it is said to have consisted of seven distinct stories, diminishing of course in size, but of precisely similar construction. Of these we now only found the lower story, and portions of the second, remaining in their original position; the hewn stones composing the remainder having been wantonly moved and carried off, little more than a century ago, by the proprietors of the sugar plantations in the neighbourhood, for the foundation of their haciendas.
The base lines of the lowest square, which correspond to the cardinal points, may be fifty feet in length; and the height of the first story from the, present level of the hollow square in which it stands, eight or nine feet.
One remarkable fact is, that instead of the wall rising at right angles from the base, it inclines inward, to the height of six feet, with a variation of perhaps fifteen degrees from the perpendicular, when the completion of the story is effected by perpendicular masses, sculptured in like manner, being placed so as to project out severed inches from the line of those immediately below; a rude analogy of outline with the Egyptian architecture, that must immediately strike you. It is to be supposed that every story was constructed in a similar manner.
The chief characteristics of the sculpture, are its decision of outline and boldness of relief. The hardness of the dark basaltic stone in which they are cut, has preserved its freshness without the slightest appearance of decay.
To describe the character of the isolated figures, is out of my power. The majority of the hieroglyphic signs—for such they doubtless are—resembled nothing in heaven or earth; but in many parts I detected the clothed human figures, seemingly reposing in the Asiatic manner.
Whether each face of the structure bore throughout similar devices, placed in exactly similar positions, I do not recollect positively: I think not; at the same time it was certainly the case at the angles, where some of the richest and most singular figures were to be found. The ornament which has been described as "a crocodile spouting water," is of very large size, and must have been repeated eight times in each story, by being symmetrically placed at either extremity of the inclined basement of the structure.
As to its bearing resemblance to "a crocodile spouting water," that is a mere fancy; it may as well portray the head of a grifiin, or of any other fanciful monster; and what the ancient observer interpreted as a jet of water, was, in my eyes, intended to represent a double tongue.
We were now nearly blinded by the heat and glare; and after half an hour's survey, and reiterated but abortive attempts at a detailed sketch, I was glad to join my companions in beating a retreat; for the vertical sun's rays left no side of the building in shade, and the trees and shrubs which grew on the borders of the enclosure, and upon the ruins, were leafless and desolate.
Masses of hewn stone were strewed about the base, and lay in disorder on the building itself. In the centre of the teocalli was an excavation, but evidently made in modern times, probably in a search after hidden treasure; and yet, that the second story of the pyramid, at least, had contained a chamber, I satisfied myself, by discovering on one of the western faces, among the base stones of that story, which had not been moved from their original position, one mass, which, both by its situation and the fact of its being sculptured on two of its adjoining faces, plainly indicated its having served as a doorpost. Its fellow was not in its place, but I have not the slightest doubt of the fact.
After leaving this interesting locality, we made a wide circuit of the mount to visit certain subterraneous excavations, entering deep into a shoulder of the hill, which, to judge by appearances, has been almost entirely cased over by the hand of man.
How far these caverns run under ground, none can pretend to say; our circumstances compelled us to rest satisfied with ascertaining the fact of their existence, and that there was every sign of their being wholly artificial.
The hill of Xochicalco may still be considered unbroken ground for the antiquarian; and there is every probability of its rewarding a really careful and attentive survey. The details of the group of hills and the surrounding country should not be neglected. Our experience may be so far useful to our successors, whoever they may be, as to show, that here, plenty of time, and the means of shelter and refreshment, are absolutely requisite for the excursion. Situated as we were, and little as we positively effected, I wonder that we did so much. By the route we had come, we agreed that it must be seven leagues from Cuernavaca.
I need not tell you that there is neither the shadow of a tradition as to the people whose hands reared this singular monument, nor of the purposes to which it was devoted. I hazard no opinion either as to one or the other.
The general traveller will of course point to the Toltecs; the more learned or pedantic may suggest that it is referable to the Zapotecs, and the probability is that they are the work of neither one nor the other.
Whether the "House of Flowers" was made subservient to self-defence, and formed a stronghold; or was a hill of delight set apart for the habitation of a monarch; or a high place, where the religious mysteries of a people were performed; or a spot chosen for a union of all these objects, it is still one of the most extraordinary localities in New Spain, and deserves much more attention than it has hitherto received.
Not a drop of water was to be found on the hill, or in the vicinity; and when we mounted our horses in the ditch, and began our retreat across the plain, we were all panting with thirst and fatigue—none more than myself, whose feverish night had badly fitted for the fatigue of a day like that I am describing. The nearest Indian village lay at a considerable distance out of the direct road, but we were all decided to repair thither. As to our going forward that evening to Yautepec from Cuernavaca, that was at once acknowledged to be impracticable. How shall I paint that arid stony plain, or that blazing sun—the blood seemed to boil in my veins.
The moment we reached the village, we threw ourselves off our horses, and rushed with one accord into the first palmetto-thatched hut, much to the terror of the female occupants, who had hardly time to hide their bag of maize, and get assurance to tell the customary lies. "Water—water, give us some water!" No hai! "Is there none in the village?" No hai! "Any pulque?" No hai! "Any fruit?" No hai!—no hai!—no hai!—nada! nada! signores! None of us asked for a Chile pepper! We were almost in despair.
But shade was a luxury, even though it brought no coolness; and we lay down upon the floor. Good words and cigaritas, however, soon had their effect: and water was found—first in thimblefuls, then in sufficient quantity to bring some degree of comfort both to ourselves and our horses; and at last we got some frijoles, tortillas, lemons, and a small lump of sugar. The poor beasts, who, bad as they were, had suffered with much patience, equally with ourselves, were invigorated by a few bundles of maize stalks.
We staid here three hours, and then resumed our return. In the neighbourhood of the village there was some slight cultivation, and the direction which we took over the plains in returning, at the same time that we avoided two of the most extensive barrancas, brought us to more than one small stream, where the scattered trees afforded some solace to the eye, and a moment's shelter from the sun. On the banks of one of them, we saw with indignation a number of the sculptured blocks, from the Teocalli of Xochicalco, lying half buried in the soil.
The haze which I had remarked in the earlier hours of the day continued to clothe all objects, without absolutely hiding them; but the outlines of the more distant ranges were so indistinct, that we could scarcely trace them. Such was the difficult character of the surface, and the continual checks we met with from barrancas, that the day was far spent before we arrived at the brink of the magnificent gorge which forms the intrenchment of Cuernavaca on the west. In the morning we had crossed it many miles farther down. It is splendidly varied in its character, and in the light of the sun, setting in gold and purple over the plain behind us, formed a magnificent picture.
The twilight fell upon us before we had extricated ourselves from the depth of the abyss, and when we did so by gaining the farther edge, the moon was shining without rival in the heaven.
I cannot describe to you the delicious feelings which came over us, as we felt the cooling night air fanning our temples, while riding through the rich and luxuriant groves and gardens in the outskirts of Cuernavaca, which we reached a quarter of an hour after.
What a strange machine the human body is. All this positive suffering seemed to be forgotten as soon as it was past! We supped as usual, drank inordinate quantities of ice—a luxury rendered a common one to the inhabitants of this torrid clime, by the vicinity of the volcanoes—threw ourselves upon our serapis on the floor, and the next morning rose, with both bodies and minds refreshed and invigorated, to enter upon another day's adventure.
The plains of Cuernavaca lie at an elevation of nearly five thousand five hundred feet above the Pacific, and four thousand four hundred below the Cruz del Marques; those of Yautepec and Cuautla Amilpas, to which we were now about to repair, at a general level of eight hundred feet lower. Great as this degree of elevation may appear, the peculiar conformation of the surface — its exposure to the south, while it is protected to the north and east by the great wall of the Sierra Madre — the extraordinary heat generated by the reflection of the sun's rays from those vast naked plains, all conspire to give them a climate more approaching to the tierras calientes than that of the tierras templadas. Wherever mould of any description is found in a position which admits of either natural or artificial irrigation, there the fruits of the tropics are produced in the greatest perfection, and with a strength of vegetation which none can imagine but those who have observed it. The barrancas of these plains form the hothouses of the capital above, and from them the market is daily supplied with abudance of the richest fruits. These are chiefly reared by the Indian population, whose little bamboo enclosures, overshadowed by the broad leaves of the banana and papaya, form many a beautiful picture in the vicinity of Cuernavaca.
We quitted the town by a mule track, traversing a barranca to the east; and shaped our course towards the mountains bounding the plain in that direction. Our arriero and his mules had, according to his orders, left the town the preceding day. This was so far a disadvantage to us, as we were without a proper guide, and we soon experienced the inconveniences consequent upon this circumstance.
The plains of Cuernavaca are separated from those of Yautepec, lying more to the southeast, by a range of secondary mountains, clothed with wood, and exhibiting in their grotesque and broken outline more of the characteristics of the Dolomite ridges of the Tyrol, than any other to which I can compare them: I believe that they are principally composed of breccia. The view opens full upon them immediately below Cuernavaca, while above them tower the long elevated ridge of the sierra, and at their termination the huge forms of the great volcanoes rise into the sky.
But I want words to describe the sublimity and beauty of the scenes which we now saw unfolded to us, hour after hour, for the following three days, while approaching and rounding the base of Popocatepetl.
Though, according to the information we had received, the town of Yautepec was but six leagues distant, and our pace was this morning far from slow, six hours' hard riding scarcely sufficed to bring us within sight of it.
This was partly owing, it is true, to the character of the soil, and certain detours which we unfortunately made, in bending too much to the eastward. After passing a large Indian village, about six miles from Cuernavaca, we came upon a malpais, or a thick bed of hard black basaltic lava, covering a large extent of country towards the base of the mountains in advance. The faint mule track wandered to and fro over the iron surface in a most provoking manner; now to the south, then to the north, till we were perfectly bewildered: the more so, as the whole was covered, in spite of its sterility, with trees and gigantic cacti of divers species.
This obstacle overcome, we entered a valley in the hills— ascended a ravine, and, from the summit of the pass, looked down upon the broad plains of Yautepec and Cuautla, stretching far to the eastward along the foot of the great chain; with numberless towns, villages, and haciendas, situated in the midst of tracts of fertile and highly cultivated land; while broad bands of steril country, at intervals, marked the path of the ancient lavas.
In Yautepec, we found a town of considerable size, situated upon a stream of pure water, enjoying a very salubrious climate. It is imbosomed in groves of lemon and orange, and has claims to great picturesque beauty, both in general situation and detai's. It was a fair-day, and the principal plaza was crowded to suffocation with one of the most entertaining assemblages you can conceive — chaffering with might and main under the glowing beams of the noonday sun.
By the arriero's faithfulness and Garcia's good management — for though a knave, he was not a fool — we found our mules and their cargoes safe, and our quarters prepared in the house of the alcalde, who received and entertained us hospitably, during the hours of our stay. That functionary is obliged, by the laws of the land, to provide a lodging for strangers applying to him for accommodation, in case that there is no regular inn. Excellent watermelons and ice were to be had abundance.
As time was not to be trifled with, we were constrained, however, after the greatest heat of the day was spent, to remount our horses, and pursue our route to the town of Cuautla Amilpas, at four leagues distance. The road, for the greater part, runs over the fertile portions of the plain, and passes many noble sugar haciendas, each with its dwelling house, refinery, crushing mill, and other offices, built in the most substantial style, and almost always adorned by a church, with dome and tower. They rank, in value, fertility, and good cultivation by free labour, among the first in New Spain.
About sunset, when within a league of Cuautla Amilpas, our line being a very straggling one, three of us, attended by Garcia, made a wrong turn, and went off across a huge unbroken level, towards the base of Popocatepetl; doubling our distance, and adding greatly to the fatigues of the day. We however agreed that the view we had hereby gained of the great volcano, rising, without any neighbour or rival, to the height of fourteen thousand feet perpendicular above the plateau on which we stood, with the red glow of the sunset upon his snowy summit, amply repaid us for the fatigue and vexation.
It was dark before we entered the posada, in which we found that M'Euen and the mules had with difficulty effected a lodgment. Indeed, it was not till our arrival that a misunderstanding with the revenue officers was satisfactorily explained, and our party felt at liberty to prepare for rest and refreshment. How far that which followed merited that character you shall judge.
Cuautla Amilpas, like the town of Yautepec, is situated upon one of the more considerable branches of either the Rio de las Balsas or the river Mescala, whose channels carry off to the Pacific all the waters flowing from the southern slopes of the table land of Mexico.
We were disappointed in the general appearance of the town, which may, nevertheless, be termed the Saragossa of New Spain, from the circumstances attending its pertinacious defence in the war of the revolution, when the famishing inhabitants, under the command of Morelos, withstood the concentrated forces of the Spanish general, Calleja, for the space of several months.[4]
Though upward of twenty years had since gone by, the hatred of the inhabitants to the Gachupin and the foreigner seemed scarcely abated; and we had not long been in the town before we discovered that we, in our general character of Europeans, were to be given to feel it; and to make experience of the kind of danger which stills impends over the foreign traveller in the more unfrequented parts of the country.
A wordy squabble in a civilized country is a matter of no great moment; but here, where human life is considered of but little value, and where the cuchillo knife is instantly produced as the solver of all difficulties, the case is far otherwise.
Like the generality of posadas, that in which we had hired our two chambers was disposed in the form of a hollow square, of which three sides were occupied by the lodging rooms and stables, and the fourth opened into a kind of paddock. The whole was surrounded by a wall; and a large gate formed the only mode of communication with the street.
Don Juan, the master, was soon discovered to be a churl, who, for some reason or other, had determined not to give a civil answer to any question or any request we made of him. Indeed insult and abuse were not spared. Doña Dolores, his wife, and her female assistants, were also evidently disposed, as far as was in their power, to fall in with his humour; and, far from performing the customary offices for the traveller, in the hope of good payment, answered our request for food by jeering us, and pointing to the door. They would give us nothing, not even a glass of water.
Our arriero and valets did not disguise their opinion that we had fallen into bad hands; but the mules were unloaded—it was already dark—and altogether too late to seek another lodging.
After an hour of patient endurance, two of us sallied forth on the scout; and purchasing a pile of tortillas, and a basin of frijoles, with sundry other nondescript eatables, from the poor Indian women who occupied a corner of the market place, returned with them to our companions. The necessary information with reference to our route for the morrow, towards Zacualpam Amilpas, and Cholula, was with difficulty picked up in the shops which we entered to make trifling purchases.
Shortly after our return to our inhospitable quarters, Don Juan, who seemed to be really possessed by a diabolical spirit, and unable either to rest or to leave others in repose, hit upon a method to provoke us to take a more active part than hitherto in the quarrels which had been incessant between his family and our servants, from the hour of our arrival. At eight o'clock he locked the gate of the posada, and refused the liberty of exit to any of the party, stating that such was the order of the alcalde. To the alcalde, then, we insisted upon goings to ascertain if such an order existed, and if so, to procure a dispensation; as, unless our preparations of departure were completed now, we should be liable to detention on the morrow, when we ought to be travelling. This could not be refused, the door was opened, and three of us sallied forth, under the threat that we should sleep in the streets, for that none of us should re-enter. Accordingly the door was slammed at our backs, and locked, amid a volley of abuse and ribaldry from the household.
I must say, that we felt justly irritated; as, far from provoking this treatment, we had borne the previous churlishness with equanimity, both of temper and manner; and had given good words in exchange for bad.
We soon found the house of the alcalde. After much knocking, the door was opened, and we demanded to see his honour. After five minutes' delay, we were cautiously admitted into a small apartment. Five minutes again elapsed; when the magistrate, a sleepy, heavily built, good-natured man, made his appearance, half dressed, having already been in bed. We told our case, and satisfied him as to our being honest and responsible personages. He immediately denied that he had given the order complained of; but said that the number of banditti in the country had given rise to one, according to which, no armed parties should be let into the town after nine o'clock, without an order from him, but which, of course, was in nowise applicable to us. He offered to send a verbal message to Don Juan, our ungracious host, to desire that he would put no impediments in our way, but let us have free ingress and egress night and day: but this would not serve our purpose; and, in fine, after much talk, we persuaded him to give us a written document to the same purport. He was extremely civil, and at parting complained grievously of the responsibilities and toils of his post.
Thus furnished, we returned to the posada. The door was of course fast; and upon knocking, we were challenged by Don Juan: "Who we were?" "What we were making a noise at the door for?" "Did we not know the order?" and so forth, mingled with threats to call the town guard, and give us lodgings in the town prison. To all this we could only reply by a fresh summons, enforced by a general thump of our sabre hilts at the gate, and a chorus of "Will your grace open the door?—an order from the alcalde! There was really something extremely dramatic in the whole scene. Open the door he would not, pretending to believe that we were a party of thieves freshly arrived, instead of honest old acquaintances. At length he told us to thrust the letter under the planks, which we did. It took him a long time to spell, which, by-the-by, I do not wonder at, as his honour, the sleepy alcalde, had contrived to write it in a most illegible hand. Every now and then Don Juan called to us, "Don't be in a hurry! A little patience, a little patience, signores! which of course did not add to our store. At length the door opened, and one by one in we marched; when, foaming with passion, he instantly relocked it, and swore stoutly that not a soul should leave the posada again that night.
A quarrel was now unavoidable, and it soon arose to a storm. Two or three drunken travellers joined in it, most inopportunely; and threats of violence against us, as Europeans, began to be heard. Doña Dolores rushed into the fray, confronting Garcia, who was unfortunately pot valiant, with the most opprobrious language and gestures. Her apparition threw oil upon the fire, and Don Juan, without more ado, ran into the house, and came back armed with a long cut and thrust sword called a machete, while we, as a matter of necessity—for I may say that all along we acted on the defensive—had now to produce our pistols. The gate was thrown open by the women; the town guards and some of the neighbours rushed in, and without inquiry into the merits of the case, or the origin of the hubbub, immediately ranged themselves on the side of our opponents, with a violence which showed us we had no justice to hope from their intervention. Sabres were drawn, and pistols were cocked, and there was a moment when a bloody fray seemed inevitable.
The probable consequences flashed upon my mind, and doubtless upon those of my companions. Having done what we could to avoid the quarrel, we were now, as men will be when urged to desperation, one and all, fully determined to sell our lives dear; for—though I cannot doubt, even outnumbered as we were, that the superiority of our weapons would have enabled us to clear the courtyard of our adversaries in the first instance—we could not fail to have been ultimately overpowered and massacred, such was the spirit of detestation to our persons which now blazed forth without disguise, in the menaces of our opponents. As to law and justice, name them not! I have since shuddered to think how many lives hung upon the lifting of a single arm, and the striking of a single blow; and we all owned, the following morning, when riding out of the town, that to God's providence alone we could ascribe the fact that we were enabled to do so in peace and safety.
The flight of Doña Dolores, which followed the entry of the guard, and the preparations for fight, was by no means a disadvantage, for she was the main cause of the affray having taken this serious aspect; and as neither party seemed inclined to strike the first blow, a little time was gained for reflection, which terminated with the gradual retirement of our principal foes; their example was followed by the guard, after a rude denial of our right to bear arms, and an attempt to compel their being given up, which I need not say was unsuccessful. As to the order of the poor old alcalde, they laughed it to scorn!
When the intruders had retired, the gates were again shut, and each party slunk to their quarters. We had for some time abundant proofs that the quarrel was neither forgotten nor forgiven; and though we slept as usual, we may be excused for having made arrangements for instant self-defence, should it have been necessary; and we neither undressed nor disarmed. To have shut the door, and thus to have made a citadel of our quarter, would, as there was no window, have been to turn it into "a black hole."
Our preparations for an early start were seconded with such good will by our people, that soon after day-break the whole party was ready to march. Neither Don Juan nor Doña Dolores made their appearance; but using a valet as a cat's paw, they received their payment, and graciously wishing us "Bueno Viaggio!" opened the gate for our welcome departure.
Such is the souvenir which we have brought away from our visit to the patriotic Cuautla Amilpas.
Our next halting place was the town of Zacualpam Amilpas, which we reached after seven hours' ride to the eastward, over a very rough line of open country, sweeping up towards the base of Popocatepetl, which we were gradually approaching and rounding.
Zacualpam Amilpas vies with Cuernacava and Yautepec, in beauty of situation, and in the luxuriance of the cultivation in the immediate vicinity. The plain in which it lies has a general level of about five thousand feet above the sea. Immense perpendicular masses of trachite rise from its bosom, and form isolated hills of very considerable elevation. The Great Volcano bore now almost due north of us, at the distance of perhaps ten leagues.
Here we had previously the intention of spending a few days with two of the gentlemen of the diplomatic corps from Mexico, who had preceded us hither, with the ultimate intention of attempting the ascent of Popocatepetl; but under the present uncertainty when the packet would sail, we had no alternative but to proceed without delay—and therefore, in the course of the evening, after parting from Mr. E., who had proved himself a useful and agreeable companion, and a good man and true, in the hour of peril, we hired a guide to direct us on our road to Cholula, and resumed our pilgrimage. Four leagues of very rugged upland road, over hill and barrancas, brought us after dusk to the Indian village of San Mateo, situated among the mountains directly under Popocatepetl.
The whole ride, that immense cone, rising in unclouded majesty directly over against us, had been the principal object of our attention. It appeared based upon a confused chaos of hills and mountains, composed in a great measure of volcanic substances, which had either been ejected from the principal crater, when in violent eruption, or which had found a vent on its flank, or at its feet.
On this side, the limit of the snow was considerably higher than on the other, as seen from Mexico. Heavy forests of pine clothed the lower division, and a straggling vegetation might be detected, perhaps to the height of thirteen thousand feet or upward. Above that, a zone of dark barrancas and rocks, intermixed with slopes of black volcanic sand, rises far towards the region of perpetual snow. A high and remarkable rock called the Pico del Frayle, or the Monk, breaks the general outline of the cone upon the southwestern slope. The great fatigue attendant upon the ascent of the superior part of the volcano, where the adventurer has not only to struggle with the faithless nature of the footing, but with the serious inconveniences attendant upon the extreme rarity of the atmosphere, may be conceived; and to these, the failure of many attempts made by Europeans of late years, to reach the crater, has to be ascribed. I have seen those who boast of their success, but unfortunately, have not met with one who was sufficiently alive on his gaining the summit to enable him to convey to others the slighest idea of what he had beheld.
Since the earlier years of this century, the signs of combustion in this volcano have been so slight, as to be scarcely noticed. It was, however, said at Zacualpam Amilpas, that smoke had been seen to rise from it occasionally during the past month.
In spite of the most careful observation bestowed upon every part of the snowy summit this evening, and during the morning of the 24th, when we continued to round the base, I could not with any certainty detect anything of the kind. The utmost that I could possibly assert, was, that I observed that the outline of certain rocks lining a deep crevice, a little below the summit, was uniformly extremely faint, indistinct, and vaporous, while every other part of the outline was perfectly clear and well defined.
I have mentioned elsewhere, that Diego Ordaz, one of the officers of Cortez, made an attempt to reach the crater, on their first advance to the capital. He was, however, forced to leave his hardy project unachieved, the mountain being in a state of actual combustion. He must have been a bold adventurer, for in those days, a volcano in eruption was not considered a thing to play with, by crowds of well-dressed gentlemen and ladies, as in the present age.
I have elsewhere given the height of Popocatepetl, as determined by Humboldt and Bonpland, at 17,884 feet.[5]
At San Mateo, we were courteously received and entertained by the simple Indian inhabitants, under the authority of their alcalde, an old man, speaking no language but that of his race. We were lodged in a shed, which served at once for chapel and courthouse, and were extremely amused by a visit of ceremony which the chief magistrate paid us in the course of the evening, bearing a silver stick as badge of office, and attended by a posse of half-naked subalterns. After five minutes spent in nodding and smoking with his guests like the best friends in the world, he departed and left us to our repose; with the bright moonlight glistening upon the snow of the volcano, and the clarinet and banjo of the Indians sounding in our ears. But what sight or sounds can keep the weary traveller from his rest?
The following morning we continued our rapid journey to the east and northeast, over an open country, to Atlisco, a large town situated at the foot of an acute conical hill of considerable elevation, which rises from the level bosom of the surrounding country. Besides the chapel on its summit, Atlisco boasts no fewer than seven or eight churches. Here we halted only two hours; and then trotted onward, hoping to reach Cholula, five leagues distant, at an early hour. The country over which we passed was in very bad repute for the robberies upon it—but here, as elsewhere, we experienced no interruption, though the numerous crosses by the roadside proved the truth of the report.
Long before sunset, we came in sight of the plains of Cholula, and of La Puebla de los Angeles. Their surface is broken by many mounds, natural and artificial; and among these, the celebrated Teocalli of Cholula, with the white church upon its platform, soon became distinguished, and gave a spur to our movements. But our animals were jaded with the heat and stony roads; and the last sunbeams were shining on the facade of the Church of Neustra Señora de los Remedies above us, as we entered the town.
Night speedily followed; and as my paper is full, I will begin another letter with the history of another day.
- ↑ The population of New Spain consists of seven distinct classes, besides people of recent Asiatic origin.
1. The Gachupin—the full-blood European, or more properly the Spaniard, whose numbers are now very inconsiderable, having dwindled down since the revolution from 80,000 to probably not more than 10,000.
2. Creoles of European extraction, 1,000,000.
3. Mestizzoes, the offspring of the European and Indian, 2,000,000.
4. Mulattoes, the offspring of Europeans and Negroes, 400,000.
5. Aboriginal Indians, numbering from three to four millions.
6. African Negroes and their descendants, 100,000.
7. Zamboes, the offspring of Negro and Indian, 2,000,000.
To these, about 15,000 European foreigners are to be added. - ↑ The table land of Toluca lies 8,530 feet over the Pacific, and nearly eleven hundred over the valley of Mexico. It is the most elevated of the four principal plateaux of Mexico, but produces fine crops of maguey and maize.
- ↑ About 9,500 feet above the sea.
- ↑ It was after the death of Hidalgo in 1811, that Morelos took the lead, and early in February shut himself up in Cuautla Amiplas, with a body of insurgents. Calleja advanced from the capital, and made his first attack with great impetuosity on the 17th instant. Properly the town is indefensible, and had no other fortification than barricades and intrenchments thrown up in haste. However, the Spaniards were driven back by the fury with which they were confronted by the Mexicans, aided by the siblings of the Indians from the roofs of the houses. The town was now was now regularly; and on the 4th of March, the bombardment commenced—but the defenders remained firm. An attempt to cut off the supply of water from the town failed; while a guerilla warfare was carried on by other parties of the insurgents upon the roads in the vicinity, and many of the reinforcements and detachments of the besiegers were cut off. But no succor could be brought to Morelos and his comrades, who soon began to suffer the extremity of famine, to such a degree, that at the end of April, a cat sold for six dollars, a lizard for two, and rats, and such vermin, for one. The object of Morelos was to protract the siege till the rainy season should commence, when it was to be supposed that sickness would force the besiegers to abandon the blockade.
The extremity to which he was reduced obliged him ultimately abandon the defence; and this he did by departing secretly in the night of the 2d or 3d day of May without detection: and in two days he reached the town of Izucar, with the loss of but seventeen of his men.—See Ward's Mexico.
- ↑ It may interest the reader to know that four days after our visit the ascent to the volcano was effected by the gentlemen above named.
On the morning of the 27th of April, Baron Gros, M. de Gerolt, and Mr Egerton, set out from Zacualpam Amilpas, and reached Ozumba on the afternoon of that day. Here they procured guides from the village of Alautia, and commenced the ascent the following morning, reaching the Vaqueria, a chalet which is the highest point inhabited, at one p.m. At three p.m., after passing through a zone of noble oaks, firs, and larch, they attained the limit of vegetation. Here, at about one third of the ascent, commence tracts of deep purple sand, strewed with blocks of porphyry. They spent the night just within the shelter of the dwarf forest, Fahrenheit's thermometer standing at fifty degrees.
On the 29th, at three a.m., they resumed the climb in the moonlight, with three guides and Mr. E's servant, proceeding in a zigzag up the sand. At nine they reached the Pico del Frayle, a pile of red rocks, of about a hundred feet in perpendicular elevation. Here the Indian guides abandoned the enterprise. Thus far the way had been fatiguing, but not dangerous. After one hour's rest they proceeded, finding the ascent much more difficult, till they reached the snow line. At this time all suffered severely from the rarity of the air. M. de G. finally reached the highest point at half past two, and his companions soon followed. They describe the crater to form an abyss of a circular form, and three miles in circumference, with perhaps a depth of a thousand feet. There is a break towards the east. The side walls are perpendicular. Vapours rise from several orifices, but rarely reach the edge of the crater. Here the adventurers staid one hour, and then, at five p.m., descending, reached their halting place in the wood. The following day, the 30th of April, they returned to the foot of the mountain. They state distinctly that Iztaccihuatl exhibits no signs of a crater.