CHAPTER XV.

THE CASTLE OF CHAPULTEPEC.

When Maximilian first established his royal presence in Mexico he began

to do what he could toward beautifying this picturesque valley. The

city had been rebuilt on the old Aztec site--the lowest and worst spot

in the land. Maximilian concluded to draw the city toward a better

locality. In order to do this he selected Chapultepec as the place for

his castle, and built lovely drives running from all directions to the

site of his residence. The drives are wide, bordered with tall trees,

and form one of the prettiest features in Mexico. The most direct drive

from the city is the paseo, spoken of in a former letter as the drive

for the fashionable. Maximilian intended his home should be the center

of the new Mexico, and the paseo--"Boulevard of the Emperor"--was to

lead to the gate of his park. From the Alameda to Chapultepec the

distance is 5450 yards, with a width of 170 feet. The paseo contains

six circular plots, which Maximilian intended should contain statues.

Strange to say this plan is partly being executed. Some already contain

an equestrian statue of Charles IV., claimed to be second only to one

other in the world; a magnificent bronze statue of Columbus, and they

are erecting one to Guatemoc and one to Cortes. On either aide of the

paseo are grand old aqueducts, leaky and moss-covered, the one ending

at the castle, the other going further up into the mountains. One is

said to be nine miles in length. These aqueducts hold very beautiful

carved pieces and niches, every here and there, in which are placed

images of the Virgin.

Terminating the avenue rises the castle, on a rocky hill some hundred

feet high. The castle covers the entire top and stands like a guard to

the entire valley. Many hundred years ago the King of the Aztec Indians

had this for his favorite palace. Here he ruled, beloved by all, until

the white-faced stranger invaded his land, outraged his hospitality

and trust; stole his gold and jewels and replaced them with glass

beads; tore down his gods and replaced them with a new; butchered his

people, and not only made him an imbecile, but caused him to die at the

hands of his once loving subjects the despised of all the people. Poor

Montezuma! the wisest, best and most honorable King of his time, after

all his goodness, his striving for the light of learning, to die such a

death.

Since Montezuma wandered beneath the shades of Chapultepec--"Hill of

the Grasshopper"--it has been the chosen resort of the successive

rulers of Mexico--the theme of poets, the dream of artists and the

admiration of all beholders. A massive iron gate, guarded over by

dozens of sentinels, admits you to a forest of cypress which excels

anything on this continent. The grand old trees, many centuries old,

are made the more beautiful by the heavy dress of gray moss which

drapes the limbs. The broad carriage road, to which the sun never

penetrates, and where the beautiful, shadowy twilight ever rests, winds

around and around until it gains the summit. The old bath of Montezuma

stands a lovely ruin in this lovely grove; above it is built an

engine house for the waterworks, which are to supply the city instead

of the aqueduct. With regret we gazed on it, the only blot on the

otherwise perfect paradise, and wished that some one, with the taste

of Maximilian, had interfered before this mark of progress had been

decided upon.

The silvery lake, alive with geese and ducks, and bordered with lilies

of the Nile and other beautiful flowers, nestles like a birdling in the

heart of the greensward. The fountains play and sing their everlasting

song, while birds of exquisite colors mingle their sweet melodies with

the tinkle of the falling waters. Plots of flowers vie with each other

to put forth the most beautiful colors; all nature seems to be doing

its utmost to show its gratitude for being assigned to this beautiful

spot. Far back in the forest, is a smooth, level place, where moonlight

picnics are often held. The soft drapery of Spanish moss hangs low, yet

high enough not to interfere with the headgear. Beneath its shadows one

would fain forget the world. We no longer wonder at the "mauana" of the

natives, and can clearly see why they wish to live as slow and as long

as possible.

When Montezuma reigned supreme he was accustomed to gather together his

wise men, and while sitting beneath the shade of a monstrous cypress

they would discuss the topics of the day. For this reason the tree is

named "The Tree of Montezuma." It is said to be two hundred feet high

and sixty feet in circumference. It is heavily draped with moss, and is

the most magnificent monument any king could have.

Half way up the hill is an entrance, almost hidden by moss and other

creeping foliage, which leads into a cave. The first chamber is a very

large room hewn out of the solid rock. At the opposite side is an iron

door, barring the way to the cave proper. Many different stories are

told of it. One is that the cave was here before the time of Montezuma,

and that untold wealth has been hidden in its unexplored recesses

when different tribes went to war. Another says that when Cortes was

forced to leave he buried his ill-gotten wealth in its darkened depths.

The less romantic story is that the subterranean sally-port, which

leads down from the garden on the roof of the castle, opens into the

cave; they once tried to explore it, and found within a mammoth hole.

A rock thrown in was not heard to strike the bottom, and even the

bravest feared to go further. The rocks on the hill are covered with

hieroglyphics, which archaeologists have not succeeded in translating;

the brick fence around the winding drive has passed its day of beauty,

and the posts alone remain of the lamps which once lighted Maximilian's

pathway.

Having obtained a ticket of admission to the castle from the governor

of the National Palace, we took a party of tourists with us and

proceeded to investigate.

When we had mounted the hill and walked through the iron gate into

the yard, the uniformed sentinel called out something in Spanish,

loud and long, and a drummer boy quite near beat a hasty roll. "They

must think we intend to storm the castle," said one of the ladies in

evident alarm, but her fears were quieted when a young cadet came from

the building and offered to show us around. "Can you speak English?" I

inquired. "No, I will find some one," he answered in Spanish, and off

he went. However, we lost no time waiting for his return, but went to

the door of the castle and handed our pass to the guard. "Momento," he

said, and he also disappeared, but only to come back accompanied by a

handsome, middle-aged officer, who told us, in broken English, our pass

was good, and while the guard would take us through the castle he would

get us another escort for the rest.

The castle is being renovated for a Mexican White House. A New York

firm is to finish it at a cost of one hundred and sixty-five thousand

dollars. Our disappointment increased as we roamed through room after

room to find all mementos of Maximilian and Carlotta destroyed. Even

what had been their bedchamber was a total ruin. The only things that

remain are three poor pictures on the wall facing the garden. They

had been spoiled, and before many hours the last thing to recall the

murdered emperor and the blighted empress would be totally effaced.

President Diaz is to move here when the repairs are finished; but if

they are no faster with the work in the future than they have been in

the past, what they have begun will be old-fashioned before the rest is

completed, and Mexico will have added two or three more names to its

list of presidents.

On top of the castle is a beautiful garden, full of rare plants and

handsome trees and shrubbery. Fountains are plenty, and statues of

bronze and marble are strewn around in profusion. The stairway is made

of imported Italian marble, and the balconies of alternate blocks of

Italian and Puebla marble. The effect, is superb. The famous sally-port

leads down through the castle from the center of the garden. It is

fenced in around the month with a brass railing and covered with green

vines. Magnificent aquariums divide the flowers at intervals, and the

little gold and silver fish play about in the water as if life was all

joy. When one looks around the beautiful landscape, the romance of the

historic past fades before the grand reality of the present. From this

majestic spot one commands a view of the entire valley--the soft, green

meadows, the avenues of proud trees which outline the gray roads that

always fade away at the foot of the chain of mountains which encircle

the valley like a monstrous wall. The faint blue and purple lines of

the mountains appear small and insignificant when the gaze wanders to

those two incomparable beauties, Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihnatl. All

nature seems a prayer. Grand old Popocatapetl stands with its white,

snowy head at the feet of the White Lady. Perhaps nature has assumed

this tranquilness while awaiting the old, white-headed man to say the

last sad words over that beautiful still form.

At the back of the castle is the Military Academy, or West Point of

Mexico. Three hundred cadets, with their officers, are housed here.

The school is kept in the best of order, and when the cadets finish

their seven years' course they are well prepared for future duties.

The cadets belong to the best families and number a lot of handsome

men. The stairway which divides, or rather connects, the two buildings

is an odd yet pretty structure. It is built in an arch to the height

of ten feet. Then starting out in opposite directions are two other

arches, which connect the buildings. These arches--the stairway, of

course--have no supports whatever, and one is almost afraid they may

cave in with their weight. When they were finished some one remarked

to the builder, "They will fall down if one man mounts them." "Bring

a regiment and put on them, and I guarantee they stand," replied

the builder. This was done, and they were found to be as firm as

a mountain. They are certainly one of the prettiest pieces of

architectural work ever executed.

In the library of the academy are oil paintings of the cadets who fell

in defense of Chapultepec. They were handsome young boys, and a fine

marble shaft, inclosed with an iron fence at the foot of the hill, is

erected in commemoration of their heroic deed. The prettiest boy of the

lot, with sunny locks and blue eyes, folded the flag, for which he was

fighting, to his breast, and stood with a smile on his face while his

enemies cut him into pieces. He was but thirteen years old. His picture

occupies a prominent place, and beneath it stands the flag, dyed a dark

crimson with his heart's blood. The cadets keep those little heroes'

memories green. Every morning they place wreaths of flowers on the

monument as they march on their way to the meadows below to drill.

The cadets have two queer pets, a wild pig and a monkey. The latter

is their companion. He performs in the gymnasium with them, and does

some wonderful feats. He is truly a smart, cunning little fellow, and

exhibits much intelligence. He is fond of the boys, and the boys return

his affection. When they come to town on Sundays they never forget

to take some sweetmeats back for him; and he never forgets to expect

the treat, and he gets very loving and confidential about that time.

He hugs the returned youth, and pries into his pockets with as much

enthusiasm as though he had been absent for months. Every cadet has a

bed with his name, number, etc., on it. A combination desk and wardrobe

stands by the side, and in the bottom is a tin pan. At 5.30 they arise,

and when the order is given they take up their tin pans and march out

to the side of the building. From a large basin they take the water,

and placing their pans on a stone bench many yards long they wash

themselves. On Sundays they can go to bull-fights, to town to see their

relatives, or do anything they wish, unless they have neglected their

studies the week before, when they are kept at school for punishment.

They are taught French, Spanish, Greek, and English. They are extremely

polite, and have not the least objection to flirting. Though they

are short in stature they have good forms and are splendid horsemen.

In fact, they are the beau ideal of any girl who likes embroidered

uniforms and brass buttons, topped off with that cavalier style no

female can resist.

Six Months in Mexico · 第 15 / 37 章