Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - Volume 57, No. 352, February 1845

"And if we are no better than mules?" cried a voice.

"Then will I be your arriero, and drive you," replied the stranger laughing, and tripping round the cart. "Mules! ay, Madre de Dios! that are ye, and have been all the days of your lives, ever since the gloomy Gachupin yonder" — and he pointed to the monster, half monk, half beast — "has chosen for his resting-place the body of the poor unhappy creature, whom some call Anahuac, some Mexitli, and some Guatemozin.11 Mules, ay, threefold mules! Poor mules!" added he, in a tone of mingled compassion and contempt.

"Poor mules!" sighed the surrounding spectators, gazing alternately at the speaker and at the bleeding Torso.

On a sudden, the masked cavalier raised the cowl of the monster-monk, and the severed head of the Torso rolled out from it. The features were Indian, modelled and coloured in so masterly a manner, that the resemblance they were intended to convey struck every body, and hundreds of voices simultaneously exclaimed —

"Guatemozin!"

"Guatemozin!" was repeated from mouth to mouth, while the pregonero or crier, as the crowd had already christened the speaker, continued to lift the veil from the significant allegory before him.

"See!" cried he, "here have his claws struck deepest. 'Tis in Guanaxato and Guadalajara."

A shudder seemed to run through the crowd.

"'Tis Tio Gachupin," continued the pregonero with a strange laugh, "who would fain play with you the same game that he did three centuries since with poor Guatemozin. And see! 'tis Guatemozin's ghost that appears bleeding before ye, and claims vengeance at your hands!"

It had now become evident to the surrounding crowd, that the pageant had a deep and dangerous political meaning. The spectators had greatly increased, and were each moment increasing, in number; the flat roofs and the miradores, or latticed balconies, of the surrounding houses, were crowded with gazers, while the street presented the appearance of a sea of heads. A deep silence reigned, broken only by an occasional whisper, or by the peculiar kind of low shuddering murmur that the Indian is apt to utter when reminded of the power and prosperity of his forefathers. Suddenly there was a loud cry.

"Vigilancia! Vigilancia!" was shouted from a distant balcony. The word passed from mouth to mouth.

"Vigilancia!" repeated the pregonero; "gracias, thanks, Señoras y Señores," added he, with a laugh and a slight bow, and then was lost in the crowd. There was a movement round the ghastly group upon the cart, which the next instant disappeared; and when the alguazils, by the aid of their staves, had forced themselves a passage to the spot where the pageant had been, no trace of it remained save fragments of wood and pasteboard, that were showered from all sides upon their detested heads. The crowd itself separated and dispersed in different directions; no inconsiderable portion of it entering the hotel, in front of which the scene had passed.

This hotel or fonda, the first in Mexico at that time, was then, as now, a great resort of the highest and lowest classes of the population — that is to say, of the greatest luxury and most squalid misery that the world can show. The ground floor was used as a sort of bazar, in which various articles of Mexican manufacture were exposed for sale; while the rooms on the upper story were appropriated to the reception of guests, and furnished with a sumptuousness that contrasted strangely with the appearance of the majority of those who frequented them.

In the first of these rooms stood a long and broad table, somewhat resembling a billiard-table, but upon which, instead of balls and cues, were piles of silver and gold, amounting to thousands of dollars; while the wardrobe of the players, who sat and stood around, did not appear to be worth as many farthings. Excepting the jingle of the money, and the words Señor and Señoria, occasionally uttered, scarcely a sound was heard; but upon the excited and eager countenances of the gamblers, which varied with every change in their luck, might be read the flushed exultation of the winners, and the suppressed fury of the less fortunate — a fury that, to judge from their fiery glances and set teeth, might momentarily be expected to break out into fierce and deadly strife.

The occupants of the second saloon were, if possible, still more repulsive than those of the first. Men, women, and children — some half naked — some with the most loathsome rags for a covering — were lying, sitting, squatting, and crouching in every part of the room — some sunk into a kind of doze — others, on the contrary, actively engaged in ridding their own and their children's heads of those inhabitants that seemed to constitute the sole wealth of this class of people — an occupation which they pursued with as great zeal and apparent interest, as if it had been absolutely essential to the proper celebration of the festival-day. A third room was devoted to the chocolate and sangaree drinkers, who might be seen emptying their cups and glasses with as much satisfaction and relish, as if the sight of the poverty and squalor that surrounded them gave additional zest to the draught; while, all about them, between and under chairs, tables, and benches, the wretched Léperos lay grovelling. Parties of richly-dressed Spaniards and Creoles, both men and women, their eyes still heavy from the siesta, were each moment entering, preceded by negro or mulatto girls carrying cigars and sweetmeats, and screaming out, "Plaza, plaza, por nuestras señoras!— Make way for our ladies!" A summons, or rather command, which the cortejos, with their sticks and sabres, were ever ready to enforce.

"Caramba! Que bella y querida compania!" exclaimed, on a sudden, the same voice that a short time previously had explained the dangerous allegory in the street below. The owner of the voice, however, wore another mask and dress, although his present costume, like his previous one, was that of a caballero or gentleman. He glanced round the room with that supercilious air which young men of fashion and quality are apt to assume when amongst persons whom they consider immeasurably inferior to themselves.

"C — jo à la bonanza! Here's to try my luck!" cried he, stepping up to the gambling table, and placing a rouleau of dollars on a card, which the next moment won. "Bravo, bravissimo! Doble!"

He won a second time, and placed the stake, which was now a heavy one, upon a fresh card.

"Triplo!" cried he. Fortune again favoured him. His luck still holding good, he won a fourth time; and the banker, rising from his seat with a savage curse upon his lips, pushed over the whole of his bank to the fortunate player, and left the table with a look of hate and rage that one would have thought must be the prelude to a stab. Nothing of the sort, however, ensued. The man removed from his ears the two reals which, according to Mexican usage, he had stuck there for luck; called to the waiter, and uttered the word "cigarros!" as he showed one coin, and "aguardiente de caña!" as he exhibited the other. Having thus disposed of his last real, he draped his cloak over his shoulder with such skill, that the end of it hung down to his heels, concealing the tattered condition of that very essential part of his dress called trousers. He then awaited, with perfect composure, the refreshment he had ordered. Meanwhile, the fortunate winner took a couple of reals from a small purse, stuck one in each ear, accompanying the action with the sign of the cross, and prepared in his turn to hold the bank.

"Plaza, gavillas!" cried several voices just at this moment. "Make room, knaves, for the señoras!" and in came a party of Spanish soldiers, accompanied by their mistresses — the latter dressed out in a style that many European ladies of the highest rank might well have envied. Before each of them walked three mulatto girls, whose sole dress consisted of a short and loosely-fitting silk petticoat, reaching to the knees; their hair being confined in nets of gold thread, and their arms encircled with bracelets of the same metal. One of these hand-maidens bore an open box of cigars, out of which the lady and her cortejo from time to time helped themselves; another had a basket with various comfits, which was also frequently put in requisition, and the third carried the purse.

"Plaza!" was again the cry; and at the same time, the companions of the ladies, well-conditioned sub-officers of the Spanish troops, swung their canes and sabres, and the terrified Indians, and Metises, and Zambos tumbled and rolled off their benches and chairs as if they had been mowed down.

"Demonio! What is all this?" exclaimed the new banker, who had already taken his seat at the table, but now sprang suddenly up. "Por todos bastos et bastas de todo el mundo— By every card in the pack!" —

He spoke in so threatening a tone, and his gesticulation was so thoroughly Mexican in its vehemence, that three of the sergeants sprang upon him at once.

"Gojo, que quieres? Dog! what do you mean?"

"Dog!" repeated the Mexican, and his right hand disappeared under his cloak — a movement which was immediately imitated by the owners of the white, black, brown, and greenish physiognomies by which he was surrounded. The three Spaniards stepped back as precipitately as they had advanced. Meanwhile, the fourth sergeant approached the table, and, seizing upon the cards, invited the company to stake their money against a bank which he put down. The effect of this invitation was no less extraordinary than rapid. The same men who, an instant before, had been ready to espouse their countryman's quarrel to the death — for such had been the meaning of the mysterious fumbling under the cloaks — no sooner perceived that the cards had changed masters, than they called to the Mexican with one voice —

"Por el amor de Dios, señor— leave us in peace, and God be with your señoria!"

"Ay, go, and the devil take you!" growled the Spaniards.

The young man gazed in turn at his countrymen and at the sergeants; and then, as if struck by the curious contrast between the courtesy of the former and the rudeness of the latter, he laughed right out, swept together his winnings, and walked away from the table, whistling a bolero.

The sort of ramble which the masked cavalier now commenced through the adjoining saloons, seemed for some time to have no particular object. He strutted across one, paused for a moment in the next to take a sip out of a friend's liqueur glass, dipped a biscuit into the chocolate of one acquaintance, and helped another to finish his sangaree; and so lounged and loitered about, till he found himself in the last of the suite of rooms, which was then unoccupied. Stepping up to a door at the further end of the apartment, he knocked at it, at the same time uttering the words, "Ave Maria purissima!"

The door was opened.

"Sin peccado concebida!" added the Mexican, when he saw that the occupants of the room did not make the usual reply to his pious but customary salutation. "For God's sake, señores, is there neither piety nor politeness among ye? Could you not say, 'Sin peccado concebida?'"

Chapter the Second

"Verdades diré en camisa, Poco menos que desnuda." Quevedo.

The company assembled in the room which the masked cavalier entered consisted of some five-and-twenty young men, in whose picturesque Spanish-Mexican costume, velvets, silk, and gold embroidery had been employed with lavish profusion. The air of scornful superciliousness with which they glanced at the intruder, and the indifference with which they seemed to regard the heaps of gold that lay glittering on the table, denoted them to be practised gamblers, or, which in Mexico is the same thing, noblemen of the highest rank. The saloon was richly furnished; chairs, sofas, and tables of the most costly woods, and splendidly gilt, cushions, drapery, and chandeliers, after the newest fashion.

"Sixteen to the doubloon!" cried the new-comer, apparently noways abashed by the contemptuous manner of his reception, as he stepped up to the table, and placed a roll of dollars upon a card.

"No pueden. It cannot be," replied the banker, pushing back the silver with his wooden rake.

"It cannot be," echoed several of the players in the same short contemptuous tone. "Una sociedad con fuero. A private and privileged society."

"Una sociedad con fuero!" repeated the stranger, shaking his head. "All due respect for fueros, so long as they are respected and respectable. But know you not, Señores, that our fuero is the older one?"

"Thy fuero older, gato?" drawled one of the noblemen.

"Ay, truly is it. 'Tis the fuero of the carnival, and dates from the time that Mother Church first fell into her dotage."

"Mother Church in her dotage! Knave, what mean ye?"

"Your Señorias need only look into the street to see what I mean. She has practised folly till she has become a fool. 'Tis just like the mother country, who has drunk Mexican blood till she has grown bloodthirsty."

The young cavaliers became suddenly attentive.

"Paz! Señor;" said the banker, "such words are dangerous. Begone, in God's name, and beware of the alguazils and the Cordelada."12

"Paz!" replied the stranger; "peace, do you say? Would you have peace and quiet? They are no more to be found in Mexico. Quiet!" repeated he, with a fiery enthusiasm in his voice and gesture, "you will have as little of it as Pedrillo had —

"No rest by day No sleep by night, For poor Pedrillo, The luckless wight."

And he broke, on a sudden, into the beautiful and piquant air of Pedrillo, which he sang with a taste and spirit that made the assembled cavaliers gaze at him open-mouthed. At the same moment, a guitar and castanets were heard in the adjoining room, accompanying the song.

Either the charm of the surprise, or the originality of the individual who thus appositely introduced this popular fragment from the masterpiece of a favourite composer, produced an electrifying effect upon the young noblemen. They sprang from their chairs, and, at the conclusion of the song, a score of doubloons fell ringing at the feet of the singer.

"Otra vez! Encore, encore!" was the universal cry.

"Señorias," said the banker, who alone appeared dissatisfied at this interruption, and now approached the stranger; "I warn you, Señorias! I recognise in this caballero" — he spoke the word in an ironical and depreciating tone — "the same gentilhombre whom the alguazils were so lately seeking. Beware! his presence may get us into trouble."

"Ha! are you the fellow who played the alguazils such a trick?" cried several of the young men.

Instead of replying, the stranger stamped with his foot; and, as if the stamp had been the blow of an enchanter's wand, two folding-doors, opposite to those by which he had entered the apartment, suddenly opened, and four dancing figures, with flesh-coloured silk masks upon their faces, and clothed in tightly-fitting dresses of the same material, bounded into the room.

"Señorias! Por el amor de Dios!" cried the banker, imploringly.

As he spoke, two guitar-players, who accompanied the dancers, began twanging their instruments; and the young men, absorbed in contemplation of the graceful and luxuriant forms of the two female dancers, paid no attention to his entreaties and warnings. Hastily gathering up his bank, he packed it into a box, and left the saloon with all possible despatch.

And now, to the music of the guitars and the clatter of the castanets, the two couples of dancers began a performance, of which the most vivid pen would fail to portray the graceful and fascinating voluptuousness. They commenced with the bolero, and thence glided, with a stamping of the feet and whirling of the arms, into the more licentious fandango. But the sensual character of the latter dance was so far veiled and refined by the grace and elegance of the dancers, that what is usually a mere appeal to the senses, became in their performances the very poetry of motion. The young noblemen remained as though entranced, their eyes fixed upon the dancers, and totally unable to give utterance to their delight. While thus absorbed, they were suddenly startled by a hoarse inarticulate sound, proceeding from the further corner of the room. At the same moment the dance ceased; dancers and musicians retired through the door by which they had entered, and a figure became visible that will probably excite the astonishment of the reader as much as it did that of the young cavaliers who now first perceived it.

Upon an ottoman extending along one side of the apartment, there reclined, in a half-lying, half-sitting posture, a person whose dress was that of a Moslem of the highest rank. His robe and turban were both green, and in the folds of the latter was interwoven a chain, or wreath, of precious stones, of extraordinary beauty and apparent value. In striking contrast with this rich attire were the features of the Turk, which were singularly repulsive. A low forehead receded from above a pair of bluish-grey eyes, in the glazed, hard look of which, perfidy, cruelty, and pride seemed to have taken up their abode. From between the eyes protruded a long nose, curved like that of a bird of prey, over an upper lip indicative of gluttony and the coarsest animal propensities; the mouth was large, the lower lip hung relaxed and slavering over a long square chin. The complexion was in good keeping with the false and malignant expression of the countenance, being of an indefinite tint, that could be classed under no particular colour.

"Por el amor de Dios!" cried the young noblemen, now really alarmed. "What is this? What does it mean?" And they hesitatingly approached the ottoman, and then again shrunk back, as if scared by some loathsome and unnatural object.

Beside the figure two other Moslems were kneeling, one in a green, the other in a snow-white turban. Their hands were folded upon their breasts, and their faces bowed till they almost touched the carpet.

"Brr!" growled the Moslem in a tone more like the grunt of a wild boar than the voice of a human being, and stretching himself peevishly out upon the ottoman. His kneeling attendants started, rose respectfully to their feet, and taking a step backwards, began conversing in a subdued tone, and without appearing aware of the presence of the Mexicans, who on their part were so bewildered by this strange scene that they seemed to have lost the power of speech and movement.

"Zil ullah!" exclaimed he of the white turban. "Allah be with us! His sublimity has again spoken! Spoken, but how little!" added he in a disconsolate tone. "Right willingly would Ben Haddi commence this very day a barefooted pilgrimage" —

"And Bultshere," interrupted the other, "would kiss the black stone of Ararat" —

"If," resumed the first speaker, "his sublimity might be thereby healed of his malady. Zil ullah! 'Tis three days since his highness tasted of the bean of Mocha, or of the glorious juice that transports the true believer, while yet living, into the realms of Paradise."

"Three days," continued his companion, "since he deigned to permit the soft caresses of the beauteous Zuleima, or the ardent embraces of the dark-eyed Fatima. What can be the cause?"

"Indigestion," quoth Green-turban.

"Cares of state," rejoined White-turban. "We must amuse his highness. There are new Almas and Odalisques arrived. He will perhaps deign to witness their performance."

And so saying, he approached the Caliph, for such was the high rank of the personage whom the sitting Moslem was intended to represent, and throwing himself prostrate on the ground, preferred his request.

A reply was returned in a sort of affirmative grunt, whereupon the vizier arose in great joy, stepped back to his former place, and after giving three distinct but not loud stamps upon the floor, retreated with his companion into a corner of the room. Scarcely had he done so, when, to the redoubled astonishment of the Mexican cavaliers, the folding-doors again flew open, and four couples of dancers tripped in, attired in costumes so rich and magnificent as to eclipse even that of the Caliph. They were followed by four negroes, two of whom bore guitars of Moorish make and appearance, the third the East Indian tomtom or drum, and the fourth the Persian flute.

For a brief space the eight dancers stood in mute expectation, awaiting a signal to begin. This was given by a Brr! from the Sultan, who at the same time vouchsafed to raise his head, and manifest an intention of witnessing the entertainment offered him.

An adagio on the guitars, gradually increasing in volume, and in which the tap of the tomtom mingled like the rolling of distant thunder, opened the dance. Then came the sharp and yet mellow clack of the dancers' castanets, and finally the soft tones of the flute, blending the whole into harmony. The dancers seemed to follow and imitate by their action each change of the music: at first, and with wonderful grace and elegance, they fell into a group or tableau, their silken scarfs, of transparent texture and bright and varied colours, floating in the air like rainbows, behind which glanced the houri-like forms of the women. Presently the music glided from the adagio into the allegro; the steps of the dancers became quicker, their gestures more animated, the play of their limbs more voluptuous. With the exception of one couple, every glance and movement of the performers seemed directed or aimed at the Caliph. This couple consisted of the most sylph-like and exquisitely formed of the four female dancers, and of a Persian warrior, who was pursuing her, and from whom she strove coyly to escape. With admirable grace and skill did these two figures detach themselves from their companions, in order to continue a while their simulated flight and pursuit. The fairy feet of the fugitive scarcely touched the ground, and such charm and fascination were in her movements that the Caliph several times raised his eyelids and gave a grunt of approval. At each of these indications on the part of the despot, the anxiety of the poor Persian seemed to increase till it bordered on despair, and so naturally was this despair portrayed as to draw a loud bravo from the spectators: only the Caliph appeared insensible to the refined play of these elegant dancers. Once or twice, indeed, his dull eyes seemed to emit a ray of animal delight, but this quickly faded away; and even the triumph of the Persian, when his mistress finally fell panting and yielding into his arms, was insufficient to rekindle it.

"Brr!" cried the Commander of the Faithful, in the same harsh grunting voice as before; "and you call that pastime, that which we have seen a thousand and one times? By the beard of the Prophet, vizier," he continued in a louder tone, "if I have no sleep to-day, nor appetite to-morrow, there is the bowstring for you, and the stake for your Almas!"

At this terrible threat the vizier stood speechless with horror, while the mouth of the alarmed emir gaped to an unnatural extent: the dancers paused, as though suddenly turned to stone, in the very same posture in which the menace of the Caliph had surprised them. One of the bayadères remained with her leg in a horizontal position, the point of her toe almost in her partner's open mouth; another, in the terror of the moment, had entangled her foot in the ample robe of the emir, who now began to run up and down in his extremity of consternation, compelling her to dance after him on one leg; in short, all the actors in this strange scene expressed so naturally, by dumb show, their amazement and alarm, that the Caliph burst into a loud fit of laughter.