THE MUSEUM AND ITS CURIOSITIES.
The first place tourists go on reaching Mexico is to the post-office.
All one has to do when desiring to know what the latest incoming party
looks like, is to take a position near the post-office. They stroll up
the street, generally "goose fashion," stopping now and again to gaze
at some prostrated pulque drinker; a wardrobe moving up the street on
a pair of bare legs--_i. e.,_ a woman with a half-dozen babies tied
to her; an old cripple sitting on the walk selling taffy, or a blind
man selling lottery tickets. Amid all this they manage at last to
get into the office, and we see them emerge, a half-hour later, with
funeral-like faces, and woman-like tongues giving their opinions of the
officials who do not understand bad Spanish, not to mention English,
and of the mails which take three days and the same number of nights to
come from the nearest point of the States, El Paso.
For the want of something better to do we will follow them to the next
point of interest--the museum--which is in the same building, several
doors above the post-office. It is not the kind of a museum where you
have a two-cent show for a ten-cent silver piece, but it is a place
that any city might be proud of. At the top of the stairs, for the
museum is on the second floor, are several large paintings of religious
subjects and an immense mirror with a fine frame, which was stolen from
some cathedral during one of the many revolutions of Mexico.
The first room contains a life-size portrait of Maximilian, seated
on a beautiful white steed. Around are Mexicans gazing at him with
admiration and awe. Maximilian is a handsome man, and the picture is
said to be the finest of Maximilian in existence. If so, he was indeed,
by virtue of looks, worthy to be an emperor.
In the center of the room on a table is the silver service, composed of
one hundred and seventy-six pieces, used by Maximilian and Carlotta.
Each piece bears the arms of the empire and the mark of the factory
"Cristofle." It is massive and elegant; little silver cupids with
wreaths of flowers are placed in every available spot. Many of the
pieces are a load for two men. A bronze bust, life size, of Maximilian,
has decorations and ten halberds, silver-mounted with blue and gold
trimmings, ordered by the emperor to be used by the Palace Guard on
state occasions, are all placed side by side. In a case in the same
room are a number of loose pieces of armor worn by the conquerors.
Two pieces, a breast plate and helmet, have the name of "Pedro de
Alvarado," the Spanish captain who made the world-famous leap near
Noche Triste.
Portraits of sixty-two Spanish Viceroys line the room. They were
removed from the national palace here, on the establishment of the
independence of the Republic. The frames are of black wood and the
paintings are old style. It may have been the fashion in the day of
white queues to always have one "off" eye, for one eye in nearly all
the pictures goes a different direction from its mate, and in many
instances the "off" eye is as roguish as a little brother, making
you imagine the old rascals are going to wink, while the opposite
orb gazes out in saint-like expression. The effect is ludicrous. The
glass-ware of the Emperor Iturbide, containing excellent portraits
of himself and Chapultepec Castle, is also shown in this room. In the
next room, in a glass case, lying on a red satin, gold covered pillow,
is a plaster paris cast of the face of Juarez, the much beloved Indian
President; hairs of his head are still adhering to the plaster, and it
is certainly the finest thing of the kind ever executed.
The portraits of Fernando Cortes Agustin de Iturbide, Emperor I.,
Ignacio Allende, one of the earliest patriots of Mexico, the great
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna and Don Vicente Guerrers, who was the third
President of the Republic, are here, to say nothing of other things of
historic value, such as the arms of the Mexican Republic made in 1829,
surrounded with Indian mosaic feather work; an old, worn damask banner
used by Cortes in his second expedition against the great Montezuma,
and the arms of the city of Texcoco, presented by Charles V., of
Germany, and Charles I., of Spain.
The little idols perhaps attract more attention than anything else at
the museum. In two long rooms the cases lining the walls are filled
with idols of all sizes and shapes, made of stone onyx and marble.
Some of the pottery is horribly exquisite. Beads used by the Indians,
made of stones, teeth and bones, are numerous. The large objects on
the pedestals come in for a share of wonder. They are adorned with
names of wondrous length and non-pronounceable, and stories of horror.
Izcozauhqui (the Fire of the Sun) is in ugly red and yellow clay;
Huitzilopoxtli (the God of War), a black clay image, equally ugly.
A clay urn with carved faces, flowers and fruits on the outside, is
called the "Funeral Urn." The "Goddess of Death" is an image some
fifty inches in height, with large round eyes formed of bone, and
outstretched hands of the same material. Her skirts are formed of
serpents and her head is a skull. Large brown earthen jars, said
once to have held sacred fires, are among the collection. It may be
historically correct and all the horrible tales connected with these
things true, but the more one looks the less probable it seems, and
after all they may have been innocent statues and flower vases used
by this people in former days. It is just as likely, and easier to be
believed, for how can it be asserted, when they are unearthed after
centuries, that they were used for any special purpose. Of course the
more sensational the story the better for print, but it is much easier
to believe they were only harmless objects in some park or flower
garden.
History tells us the Aztecs knew no alphabet, and used in place certain
signs or figures for every subject--history, religion, feasts, wars,
famines, and even poetry. The art of writing in this manner was taught
by the priests, and handed down from father to son. Painters had to
be frequently called to decipher the documents, and were treated with
the highest consideration by the nobility. The manuscript employed was
made of maguey and other plants and of skins. The Spanish destroyed the
majority of these manuscripts, which would have been of great value if
preserved. A few are now in the museum. From an artistic point of view
they are horrid.
The colors they used in painting are nearly always indelible and
very bright. One of the paintings shows a snow-capped mountain.
Popocatepetl, and to the left the City of Mexico, entirely surrounded
by water. A fifty foot maguey paper painted in black, contains the
history of the Aztecs. How they left an island which held a temple and
came to Mexico, establishing the city, with all the principal events
which befell them in their wanderings. The battle of Noche Triste and
the advent of the Spanish, are carefully portrayed. This is one of the
famous picture writings, which are too tiresome to enumerate further.
The feather shield which belonged to Montezuma II., is in a frame
in the same room with the picture writing. It is an old, worn-out,
faded thing, and hangs too far away to be seen well. It was among
the curiosities given by Cortes to the Emperor Charles V. He in
turn presented it to the Museum of Vienna, where it remained until
Maximilian restored it to Mexico.
One room is devoted to the display of Mexican marbles, stones, ores,
etc. Another has petrified snakes, wood, human and animal bones. Cow
horns measuring seven feet from tip to tip were excavated somewhere
near Mexico. Elephant jaws and tusks which treble the size of those
sported by the late lamented Jumbo are also from the historic,
mysterious earth of Mexico. Among the many other things were noticed
human bones protruding through a rock, and a turtle's shell which, if
opened, would make a carpet for a grand salon.
Snakes, lizards, fish and crabs of all kinds fill one good sized room,
divided in the center by stuffed alligators, swordfish, crocodiles and
boa constrictors. This opens into another department, and here you meet
the Mexican dudes occasionally. There are few collections of birds to
equal this. Added to their own numerous beautiful and rare birds are
specimens from all parts of the world. The work is especially fine, and
the birds and fowls appear as if in life. One thing to be regretted is
they have no butterflies. In all the museum they have but one small
case, and they are the beauties which come from Brazil. The collection
of beetles is somewhat larger, but still is nothing remarkable.
Monstrosities are quite plenty. One little calf has one head, one large
eye in the center of its forehead, and two perfect bodies. Another has
one perfect body and two heads. Two pheasants are fastened together
like the Siamese twins. Dogs, cats, chickens, and even babies come in
for their share of doubling up into all kinds of queer shapes. Monkeys,
baboons, gorillas and a dilapidated elephant and giraffe finish this
interesting quarter.
The court of the museum is planted with beautiful flowers and trees.
Large idols were once standing there, but they have been moved inside
of the building opposite the entrance. The idols can lay no claim to
beauty, and are anything but interesting, except to people who have a
wonderful amount of faith and a capacity to believe a fellow-creature's
wild imagination. Scientific gentlemen with long faces and one
eye-glass gaze at the images and translate, or at least pretend to,
the hieroglyphics which cover them. We would not think for a moment of
putting an opinion against one held by wise men since the time of the
Conquest, and we would not like to say Bernal Diaz had an object in
making the Indians as black as possible, but we would like to gently
hint our little observations.
The sacrificial stone, where they claim fifty thousand people have been
sacrificed, looks little as if intended for that bloody purpose. The
stone is perfectly round, between four and six feet across and about
two feet in thickness. On the upper side is sculptured the image of the
sun or moon and on the sides are groups of men, fifteen in number, and
fifteen separate groups. Certain hieroglyphics accompany each group.
The work is fine, and must have been done with great care and patience
by a master hand. Marring the top is a rudely cut hole with a shallow
groove running to the edge. If these people were making a sacrificial
stone would they have cut fine figures, requiring care and time, and
then spoil them by cutting out a big hole? Would not the basin have
been cut out finely and the carvings made to fit? I may be lacking in
knowledge and faith, but I have tried to believe, have gazed on the
stone with the thought, "History says the blood of fifty thousand human
beings has dripped down over that stone," but proofs assert themselves,
and the poor scandalized thing seems to hold up every side and the ugly
marring of its beauty, and reply, "Now, do I look as if I was made for
that purpose?"
Though believing it was nothing more than an innocent Aztec calendar,
we will repeat the sensational legend that covers it with a bloody
cloak. There existed an Aztec order which worshiped the sun, and on
this stone they sacrificed human beings, calling them the "messenger to
the sun." The "messenger," who was always a prisoner, was painted half
red and half white. Even his face was divided in this manner. A white
plume was glued to his head. In one hand he carried a gaily trimmed
walking-stick, and in the other a shield with cotton on it, and on his
back was a small bundle of different articles. Music was played as
he ascended the stairway to the temple. There he was greeted by some
high priest, who commanded him to go to the sun, present the articles
he carried and deliver messages they sent. Finally, when he reached
the summit, he turned toward the sun and in a loud voice proclaimed
what was told him. Then they took away his bundles and cut his throat,
drenching the sun on the stone and filling the bowl with his blood.
When the blood ceased to flow the heart was cut out and held aloft to
the sun until cold. Then the message was delivered.
It is said the Aztec calendar was carved in 1479, and its inauguration
was celebrated with fearful sacrifices, but the conquering Cortes had
it pulled down, and it remained buried until lowering the grade of the
ancient pavement in 1790, when it was built in the southwestern tower
of the cathedral. There it remained until about a year ago, when it was
removed to the museum, where it now occupies a prominent position. The
Sad Indian, a statue so-called because it was unearthed on a street of
that name, is a jolly-looking fellow, and compels one's admiration,
despite his broad nose and ugly features. So far I have heard no
blood-curdling tales connected with him, but the wiseacre shakes his
head solemnly and replies: "Hundreds of human beings were sacrificed
on his account, but the history has escaped my memory." Meanwhile, the
old fellow sits there with folded hands and a comical expression on his
face, thinking, probably, of the duties which he once performed, which
were, undoubtedly, holding a lamp or a flag, as the hole through the
folded hands and between the feet directly beneath proves.
It is quite interesting to roam around and examine this broad face and
that slim one, from those of mammoth size to ones the size of one's
hand. We grow to like the queer objects which certainly formed some
part in the lives of those strange people who lived and died centuries
before us.
In one corner locked up in a cell by itself is the coach of Maximilian
and Carlotta. It is one of the finest in the world, and is similar in
construction and finish to that used on State occasions by the Czar of
Russia. The coach was a present to Carlotta from Napoleon II. It is so
fine that it is difficult to give a description of it. The royal coat
of arms is on every available spot, on the doors and above, wrought
in gold, and embroidered in gold on the crimson velvet which covers
the driver's seat. The entire coach is gold and crimson except for
the inside, which is heavy white silk, cords, fringe and tassels of
the same. Gold cherubs the size of a three-month-old baby finish each
corner. The carriage was drawn by eight pure white horses or the same
number of coal black ones, and as it swept down the grand passes to
superb Chapultepec, holding its royal owners, it must have been a sight
fit for kings. But it stands to-day a silent memento of a murdered
young emperor and a blighted empress. All the men employed at the
museum are disabled soldiers, and it speaks well of the government to
give them this employment. They seem to rightly belong in among this
queer stuff, for it would take half a dozen of them to make a whole
man. The museum is open only from ten to twelve, and is free to all.
But our tourists are even now standing on the outside, wondering
if they have not fasted enough to do penance for all the sins ever
committed; and if they will get much else than frijoles, rice, and red
peppers for dinner--or, more properly speaking, breakfast. We know just
what they will visit this afternoon, and if you care to see it also we
will try, in our humble way, to show you around.