Aztec Land

The grand cathedral was finished in 1618, having a noble façade, a graceful dome, and two lofty towers partly covered with enameled tiles. The front is richly carved, and ornamented by fluted pillars. The interior of the dome is as finely frescoed as the famous church of Burgos, in Spain, or that of the church of St. John, in the island of Malta. Of this latter church it strongly reminded us. The great altar is finished in white and gold. A narrow gallery of gilded metal runs around the entire building on a level with the capitals of the pillars which support the roof. It seems that during religious services here a few years ago, two of the organists were struck by lightning while playing and instantly killed. The towers of the cathedral show some evidence of having been disturbed by an earthquake, which occurred in 1818. There are thirty churches in all in Guadalajara, and, like the other public buildings, they are unusually fine.

This is quite an ancient city, having been founded in 1541. Manufacturing is carried on to a considerable extent; among the articles produced are fine pottery, cotton cloth, silk, rebosas, musical instruments, and leather goods. The native Indian race hereabouts, and, indeed, in places further south, are great adepts, as already explained, in the manufacture of antiquities. We saw here some remarkably fine examples of pottery, designed and finished by native artists who had never enjoyed an hour's instruction. It was the result of an inborn artistic taste. The lace-like drawn-work produced by the Indian women from fine linen rivals the best work of the kind which comes from South America, where the natives have long been famous for fine work in this special line.

The Hospicio San Miguel de Belen is a very comprehensive and well-conducted establishment, containing a hospital proper, with male and female wards, a lunatic asylum, and a primary school. Other evidences of keeping pace with the times were seen in the presence of the telephone, electric lights, and a good system of tramways. The environs of the city are justly famous for many beautiful gardens and a grand paseo shaded by noble trees, mostly elms, with broad, spreading limbs and of great age. The Campo Santo is not unlike that at Vera Cruz, the bodies being deposited in niches built in the thick walls about the grounds. Some of the monumental tombs are of a very impressive and beautiful character.

Another remarkable and very interesting institution of this city is the Hospicio de Guadalajara, situated on the eastern side of the small stream which flows through the town. It is approached by a wide, handsome avenue lined with orange-trees. The edifice covers eight acres, being constructed about numerous open areas which are utilized as gardens, devoted to raising flowers and fruits, each also ornamented by a cheerful fountain. There are over twenty of these courts within the grounds, from which broad, high corridors open, which traverse the several departments of the institution. Mangoes, oranges, and bananas thrive on the trees in these patios, and such an abundance of red and white roses, in such mammoth sizes, we have rarely seen. The sister who acted as our guide through the spacious edifice insisted upon plucking them freely and presenting them to the ladies of the party. There is a spacious and fine chapel within the group of buildings, as capacious as an ordinary church. Its lofty dome is beautifully frescoed, and many fine oil paintings adorn the walls. Hundreds of children, ranging from babyhood to twelve years, were seen in the various departments, where everything was scrupulously neat and clean. This admirable Hospicio is used as an asylum for foundlings, a home for the blind, and also for the deaf and dumb, besides which there is here provided a home for the infirm who are unable to support themselves. This very worthy institution presents an imposing appearance, with its lofty dome and pillared portico facing the broad, tree-lined avenue which leads up to its spacious doors.

There is a bull-ring and two theatres here. The favorite promenade is the paseo, which runs for over a mile within the city proper, terminating at the alameda. Gambling, next to the bull-fight, is the average Mexican's delight, and just outside the thoroughfare of the alameda all sorts of games of chance prevail. As government legalizes the lottery-ticket business, it opens the door for much gambling. Ten per cent, of the gross receipts of all lottery enterprises goes into the national treasury. Even blind men were seen selling lottery tickets, and when it was suggested that they were liable to be cheated by unscrupulous purchasers, the reply was that such an act would surely bring ill luck, and no ticket bought under such circumstances could possibly draw a prize! This was repeated to us as being the sentiment governing the throng of humble purchasers. The Mexicans of the lower class are very superstitious, and will often pay a young and innocent child a trifle to select a ticket for them, believing that good luck may thus be secured.

A short trip by tramway will take the traveler to the suburb of San Pedro, where the native Indians produce a species of pottery which is both curious and artistic, each one working independently in his adobe cabin. One often detects an article which genius alone could originate and produce. The work is done solely by hand, the workmen employing only the most primitive methods. Some of the vases and jars are identical with those one finds in Egypt, finely glazed, and enameled in colors which are burned in by the maker. These wares are so well appreciated by strangers that the peons realize good prices for their skill; and travelers take home with them mementoes worthy of being placed in the best collections of pottery.

On the evening of Good Friday the spacious plaza of Guadalajara was thronged with the citizens, men and women, peons as well as the better classes, the former scrupulously keeping within certain limits, while the ladies and gentlemen promenaded upon the broad path encircling the plaza, beneath the shade of orange-trees and amid a rose-scented atmosphere. The moon was near its full, but the electric lamps rivaled its serene brilliancy, and the stars were outshone. When the hands on the illumined clock over the governor's palace pointed to half-past eight, the military band, placed in the central pagoda, with soldierly promptness struck up a grand and elaborate anthem. The thirty performers were skillful musicians, and the effect was admirable. They were all swarthy natives, descendants of the Aztecs, but fully able to compete with the average French, German, or American musicians. The throng passed and repassed each other on the gayly lighted paths, or seated themselves in a broad circle about the plaza. Merry children, nicely dressed, romped hither and thither, now and again coming up pleasantly to greet the strangers, and making the most of the few words of English at their command, while the big fountain kept up its delightfully-cooling notes, heard in the intervals of the music. There were thousands of natives and foreigners promenading hither and thither about the great square and in the plaza, forming a gay and impressive scene until nearly midnight. There is a holiday gayety about life in this southern clime which is quite infectious.

The fascination of the scene; the delights of a land of perpetual sunshine; the charming surface aspect of everything; the rank, luxuriant vegetation; the perfume of flowers mingling with the delightful music that floated upon the air in such an hour as we have described, – all these did not blind the moral sense, though for the moment the physical powers were led captive. One pauses to review the aimless lives of these indolent but beautiful women, and the useless career of the men who form the upper class. It is natural to contrast the lives of such with that of the abject poor, the half-starved, half-naked masses who hung about the outer lines of the assembled throng on the plaza; men and women living a mere animal existence, and yet who represented such grand and noble possibilities. Ah! the puzzle of it all! Who can solve the riddle? Lazarus and Dives jostle each other not alone in Guadalajara, but all over the world.

In this city, on the Saturday following Good Friday, occurred what is here termed "Judas Iscariot Day," when the concentrated vengeance of the Christian world is supposed to be visited upon the vile betrayer of his Master. The whole object of the occasion is to heap contumely, derision, and dishonor upon the name of Judas. Extensive preparations are made a week or more before the special day. The town presented an appearance similar to the Fourth of July in the United States. The streets were full of temporary booths, and all the inhabitants were out of doors. Figures twelve or fifteen inches long, made of paper, rags, or other combustible material, in various colors, representing Judas, and stuffed with firecrackers and powder, were sold to men and boys, to be fired at the proper time. Some of these figures were of life size, containing rockets and blue lights. Judas was represented with folded hands, arms akimbo, with legs in a running posture, and, in short, in every conceivable attitude. Some of the larger figures bore mottoes about their necks in Spanish, such as "I am a scion of the Devil;" another, "I am about to die for my treachery;" and a third, "I have no friends, and deserve none," "Let me give up the ghost," etc. Hundreds of these toy figures were tied to a rope, and hung across the thoroughfares at the height of the second story, reaching from one balcony to another. Small pyramids were raised for them and of them in the open squares. People carried hoops of Judases elevated on the top of a long pole. Some men had a single large figure with the conventional Judas face dressed in harlequin colors. Everybody on the streets had at least one toy Judas, and some had a dozen.

Finally, at ten o'clock on the forenoon of Judas day, the great bell of the cathedral sounds, a score of other church bells follow suit, and the matches are applied to the fuses with which each emblematic figure is supplied. Young Mexico is almost crazed. Old Mexico approves and participates. Everybody is elated to the highest point. Sidewalks and balconies are crowded with both sexes. Señoras and señoritas are hilarious, and little children clap their hands. The noise of the bells is great, that of firecrackers, rockets, and fuses is greater, and the shouts of the excited multitude who swarm about the Plaza Mayor is the greatest of all. People become mentally intoxicated with intense excitement. The large Judases in exploding go to pieces, first losing one arm, then a leg, followed by another arm, until at last the body bursts into fragments, at which one universal shout rends the air. The small Judases keep up their snapping and explosions for an hour or more. At last Judas is utterly demolished, literally done for. Then the bells cease ringing, and the overwrought people gradually subside. The whole is a queer, strange piece of ludicrous mockery, ending as a good-natured annual frolic.

CHAPTER XVIII

Santa Rosalia. – Mineral Springs. – Chihuahua. – A Peculiar City. – Cathedral. – Expensive Bells. – Aqueduct. – Alameda. – Hidalgo's Prison and his Fate. – Eulalia. – A Large State. – A Grand Avenue of Trees. – Local Artists. – Grotesque Signs. – Influence of Proximity to the United States. – Native Villages. – Dangerous Sand-Spouts. – Reflections on Approaching the Frontier. – Pleasant Pictures photographed upon the Memory. – Juarez, the Border Town of Mexico. – City of El Paso, Texas. – Railroad Interests. – Crossing the Rio Grande. – Greeted by the Stars and Stripes.

Santa Rosalia is a quiet, quaint old place, with six or seven thousand inhabitants; but, being on the direct line of the Mexican Central Railroad, it is sure to rapidly increase in numbers and in material prosperity. Though it is now scarcely more than a country village, still it has its plaza and its alameda, in the former of which a military band performs two evenings in each week. A couple of small but most valuable rivers, the Rio Conchos and the Rio Florido, flank the town and afford excellent means for irrigation, which are improved to the utmost, the effects of which are clearly visible to the most casual observer, in the delightful verdure and the promise of teeming crops. The place has a most equable climate, for which reason many northern invalids suffering from pulmonary troubles have come hither annually. A few miles west of Santa Rosalia are mineral springs believed to possess great curative properties, especially in diseases of a rheumatic type. There are yet no comfortable accommodations for invalids, but we were told that it was contemplated to build a moderate cost hotel at this point. The ruins of the fort captured by the American army on its way to join General Taylor are seen near Santa Rosalia.

Still pursuing our northward course, bearing a little westerly, over an immense desert tract so devoid of water that the railway train is obliged to transport large cisterns on freight cars to supply the necessary article for the use of its locomotive, we finally reach Chihuahua, – pronounced Chee-waw-waw, – capital of the state of the same name. One would think this immediate region must be well watered, as we cross several rivers while in the state. Among them the Florido, at Jimenez; the Concho, just north of Santa Rosalia; the San Pedro, at Ortiz, and the Chubisca, near to the city of Chihuahua. This name is aboriginal, and signifies "The place where things are made." It was founded in 1539, and lies upon a wide, open plain at the base of the Sierra Madre, whose undulating heights are exquisitely outlined in various hues against the sky, and beneath whose surfaces are hidden rich veins of iron, copper, and silver. The valley extends towards the north as far as the eye can reach. It is looking southward that we see the disordered ranks of the mountain range. When we first came upon the town, it rested beneath a cloudless sky, bathed in a flood of warm, bright sunlight. We were told that these are the prevailing conditions for seven months of the year. This is on the main line of the Mexican Central Railroad, a thousand miles, more or less, north of the city of Mexico, and has a population of about eighteen or twenty thousand; but, like most of the Mexican cities, it once contained a much larger number of inhabitants than it can boast of to-day. It will be remembered that the American forces, in the year 1847, advanced upon and took possession of the city after the battle of Sacramento, which occurred February 28 of that year. This was the force commanded by Colonel Doniphan, and from here it made the celebrated march southward, forming a junction with the division of General Taylor.

The city presents a pleasing and thrifty aspect, though most of the houses are but one story in height and constructed of adobe, with low, flat roofs, very much like an Egyptian town, – a comparison which is constantly occurring to us in Mexico. The patios of the better class of houses are ornamented with flowering plants, and pets of all sorts, especially birds, are numerous, the favorite species being the mocking-bird. One patio we noticed full to repletion of tame pigeons, blue, black, white, and mottled fantails. The state and government buildings, the mint with its low, square tower, and a few other edifices are large and handsome structures. In the tower of the mint the patriot Hidalgo was confined, with three of his comrades, previous to their execution. They were shot here July 31, 1811. In the Plaza de Armas there stands a fine monument to the memory of Hidalgo. The cathedral, the shell of which cost over eight hundred thousand dollars, stands on one side of the plaza, an area ornamented as usual with beautiful trees and flowers, together with a large fountain in the centre, about which are winding paths, and benches whereon to enjoy the shade. This is a delightful resort in the evening, when the music-loving populace are regaled with the admirable performance of a Mexican military band three or four times a week. The cathedral is of the Moorish and Gothic orders combined, and it has considerable architectural merit, bearing upon its rather crudely ornamented front thirteen statues, representing San Francisco and the twelve apostles. The interior was found to contain some interesting and valuable oil-paintings, though we saw them in an extremely bad light. The towers of this cathedral are remarkable for a costly collection of bells, and the interior of the church for a series of magnificent carvings. One of these bells is pointed out to the visitor as having been broken by a cannon-ball during the bombardment of the town by the French in 1866. The other sides of the plaza are bordered by the state buildings and the best stores of the town.

The gray, crumbling line of an arched stone aqueduct, built long ago to supply the town with water, forms a picturesque feature of the environs. There is an admirably kept alameda for public enjoyment, divided by four rows of ancient cottonwood-trees, some of which are five feet in diameter. The Rio Chubisca flows through the city. Crops are raised solely by liberal irrigation; water is the one thing most needed on this high, flat land. Some of the finest grapes in Mexico are raised in great abundance here, and are shipped both to the south and across the border into our own country. A very large share of the republic, with its volcanic soil, is admirably adapted to this industry. Fifteen miles from Chihuahua are the rich silver mines of Eulalia. The road thither is a rough one, but many persons enjoy the excursion, over what at first sight seems to be a plain of lava, though as there is no volcano visible, one is a little at fault in divining from whence it came. We were told finally that it was slag from the workings of the mines at Eulalia, and that more modern processes of disintegration and amalgamation might extract good pay in silver from these "tailings," now spread broadcast for many miles on the surface of the plain. Santa Eulalia is a rude hamlet lying among the mountains, with a very humble mining population and a small stone church. There are over two hundred mines in and about these hills, all of which have been worked more or less successfully.

This state, by the way, is the largest in the republic, being about the size of New York and Pennsylvania combined. To be exact, the state is four hundred and thirty miles long from north to south, and three hundred, thirty-seven miles wide, It is famous for its many sheep and cattle ranches, affording, as it does, great advantages for stock-raising. Large herds are driven over the borders into our own country every season, and sold to American herdsmen, to be driven still further north and fattened for the eastern and northern markets. There is a quaint, oriental aspect about the adobe-built town which would prove very attractive to an artist's eye. One tree-embowered roadway attracted our attention, which so strikingly resembled the Beacon Street Mall in Boston as to call forth remarks to that effect from more than one of our party. It is known as the Calle de Guadalupe. The deep shadow of the long gothic arch, formed by the entwined branches, was exquisite in effect. In the busy portion of the town, groups of Indians, wrapped in bright-colored blankets, added variety to the scene.

Wood carvings and wax figures from the hands of intelligent native artists, – for artists they are – come so near to one's ideas of perfection as to be a surprise. This artistic genius was also observed among the humbler classes further south, and is by no means confined to the neighborhood of Chihuahua. After a few moments of watchful observation of even a stranger, some of these Indians will retire, and in an almost incredibly brief space of time will return with an excellent likeness of the individual whom they design to represent, not merely as regards his ordinary physique, but in facial expression. Practice has made them quite perfect in this impromptu modeling. Chihuahua, if we may credit the historians, as well as judge by the remains, once had a population of two hundred thousand.

A singular and most disagreeable custom was observed here which prevails in some other Mexican cities: that of placing fantastic signs, painted in gigantic size, on the outside of shops. These are grotesque representations of the business carried on within. It would seem as though the object was to ridicule the proprietor's occupation by the vulgarity of these signs. Be this as it may, the inevitable half dozen pulque drinkers lean upon the counter all the while, absorbing the liquid which brings insensibility. As they drop off one by one, their places are taken by others, who are promptly supplied by the plethoric bar-tender. In the plaza peons were offering for sale a very small species of dog indigenous to this district, tiny creatures, peculiarly marked and evidently stunted by some artificial means. However, some of our party were captivated, and became purchasers of the delicate little tremulous creatures. Considerable building was observed to be in progress here, not structures of adobe, but fine stone edifices, of an attractive and modern style of architecture, three stories in height. One of these was designed for a hotel, and would be an ornament to any city.

Though Chihuahua is two hundred and twenty-five miles south of the Rio Grande, still it shows many signs of its proximity to this country. Such buildings as we have just referred to would not be thought of in middle or southern Mexico. American fashions in many things are obvious; a large portion of the population speak English; the faces of the common people evince more intelligence; and the masses are better clothed than they are a little further south. We found that free schools were established and other matters of higher civilization were in progress. Many of the customs prevailing north of the national boundary line have been adopted here. The universal burro of Mexico begins to disappear, and strong, shapely mules and large horses take his place. Beggars are few and far between.

There is very little of interest to engage the traveler's attention on the route of the Mexican Central Railroad between Chihuahua and Juarez, formerly known as Paso del Norte. The country is quite sterile, varied by occasional long, tedious reaches of cactus and mesquite bushes, or a few cottonwood-trees wherever a water-course is found. The mesquite grows to the height of ten or twelve feet. The seeds are contained in a small pod, and are used by the natives to make a sort of bread which is sweet to the taste. The wood is extremely hard and heavy. At long distances apart a native village comes into view, composed of low, square, adobe cabins. The treeless character of this section of country is not without a depressing influence, while the want of water is only too manifest everywhere. Sometimes one sees for hours a fairly good grazing country, and, where water is available, some cereals are raised. Corn, wheat, and barley occasionally form broad expanses of delightful green. Still, only the most primitive means of agriculture are in use, reminding the observer of the unfulfilled possibilities of the really capable soil. Where these fertile districts are seen, the results are brought about by the same irrigating ditches that the aborigines used more than three hundred years ago. The touch of moisture is like the enchanter's wand. In California, water is conveyed thirty, forty, and even fifty miles, by means of ditch and flume; here the sources of supply are not usually half the first-named distance away. Grapes are grown, as at Chihuahua, in great abundance, the soil seeming to be particularly adapted to their cultivation. Many tons of the big purple fruit are regularly converted into wines of different brands, said to be fully equal to the product of California.

As the sea has its water-spouts, so the land has its sand-spouts, whereby the whirlwinds, forming on and sweeping over the barren plains, gather up the soil and rush circling along with it for miles, sustaining the mass in the air, two hundred feet or more in height. This phenomenon was often observed while traveling on the Mexican plateau. Sometimes, as has already been said, half a dozen were seen at a time. Between Chihuahua and Juarez they were again observed. The course of these dusty pillars of sand was generally towards the foothills of the high ranges. The moment any large obstacle is encountered, as is the case with a water-spout at sea, they are at once broken and disappear. Any ordinary cabin or other frail building which is struck by a sand-spout is pretty sure to be demolished. This might not always follow, as they move with different degrees of force, some being vastly more powerful than others. Trees are not infrequently broken and destroyed by them. We were told that horses and cattle exposed upon the plain were sometimes taken up in the suction of air caused by their progress, carried a hundred rods or more, and then dropped to the ground lifeless. Other stories were heard of the erratic performances of sand-spouts on the Mexican plateau, but they were of a nature requiring too much credulity for us to repeat them in these pages.