Guanajuato.--An Ex-President.--Richest Silver Mine in Mexico.--Reducing
the Ores.--Plenty of Silver.--Open Sewers.--A Venal Priesthood.--A
Big Prison.--The Catholic Church.--Getting Rid of a Prisoner.--The
Frog-Rock.--Idolaters.--A Strawberry Festival at Irapuato.--
Salamanca.--City of Queretaro.--A Fine Old Capital.--Maximilian and
His Fate.--A Charming Plaza.--Mammoth Cotton Factory.--The Maguey
Plant.--Pulque and Other Stimulants.--Beautiful Opals.--Honey Water.
--Ancient Tula.--A Freak of Tropical Weather.
The quaint old city of Guanajuato, capital of the state bearing the same
name,--pronounced Wan-a-wato,--is situated nearly a thousand feet higher
than Silao, two hundred and fifty miles north of the city of Mexico, and
fifteen miles from the main trunk of the Mexican Central Railroad, with
which it is connected by a branch road. It contains between fifty and
sixty thousand inhabitants, and has been a successful mining centre for
over three hundred years. Manuel Gonzales, ex-president of Mexico, is
the governor of the state. This man was the Tweed of Mexico, and one of
the most venal officials ever trusted by the people. He succeeded, on
retiring from the presidency, in taking with him of his ill-gotten
wealth several millions of dollars. The astonishing corruption that
reigned under his fostering care was notorious. In enriching himself
and his ring of adherents, he brought the treasury of the country to the
very verge of bankruptcy. It may be mentioned that this State of
Guanajuato is the most densely populated in the Mexican republic. It has
an area of a trifle over twelve thousand square miles, or it is about
the size of Massachusetts and Connecticut united. The town is reached
through the suburb of Marfil, along the precipitous sides of whose
mountain road large adobe and stone mills are constructed, resembling
feudal castles; while beside the roadbed, broken by sharp acclivities,
the small, muddy, vile-smelling river Guanajuato flows sluggishly along,
bearing silver tailings away from the mills above, and wasting at least
twenty-five per cent, of the precious metal contained in the badly
manipulated ore. Here and there in the river's bed--the stream being
low--scores of natives were seen washing the earth which had been
deposited from the mines, working knee-deep in the mud, and striving to
make at least day wages, which is here represented by forty cents.
Others were producing sun-dried brick out of the clayey substance, after
it had been rewashed by the independent miners. This river becomes a
torrent in the rainy season, and owing to its situation the town is
liable to dangerous inundations, one of which occurred so late as 1885,
causing great loss of life and property. Creeping slowly upward over the
rough road, an abrupt corner of the gulch was finally turned, and we
suddenly found ourself in the centre of the active little city, so
compactly built that business seemed to be overflowing its proper
limits and utterly blocking the narrow streets. The provision and fruit
market was trespassing on every available passageway. Curbstone and
sidewalk were unhesitatingly monopolized by the market people with their
wares spread out for sale. In Guanajuato is found the richest vein of
silver-bearing ore in the country, known as the _Veta Madre_, and though
the most primitive modes of mining and milling have always been and
still are pursued here, over eight hundred million dollars in the
argentiferous metal have been realized from this immediate vicinity
since official record has been kept of the amount; and with all this
Mexico is still poor!
The ore has now to be raised from a depth of fifteen hundred feet and
more. There are between fifty and sixty crushing mills in operation at
this writing, reducing the silver-bearing quartz. Two of the mills are
operated by Europeans, who use steam power to some extent, but the
scarcity of fuel is a serious objection to the employment of steam. We
saw scores of mules treading the liquid, muddy mass for amalgamating
purposes, driven about in a circle by men who waded knee-deep while
following the weary animals. As these huge vats contain quicksilver,
vitriol, and other poisonous ingredients, the lives of men and animals
thus occupied are of brief duration. The mules live about four years,
and the men rarely twice as long if they continue in the business. This
result is well known to be inevitable, and yet there are plenty of men
who eagerly seek the employment.
Without going into detail we may describe the process of obtaining the
silver from the rocky mass in a few words. The ore is first crushed, and
by adding water is made into a thin paste. Many tons of this are placed
in a huge vat, at least a hundred feet square, and into it are thrown,
in certain quantities, sulphate of copper, common salt, and quicksilver.
Driving the animals through this mass, ten hours a day for three or four
days, causes the various ingredients to become thoroughly mingled. The
quicksilver finally gets hold of and concentrates the coveted metal. The
quicksilver is afterwards extracted and reserved for continued use,
performing the same function over and over again. There is, of course, a
large percentage of quicksilver lost in the operation, and its
employment in such quantities forms one of the heavy expenses of
milling.
The mills are semi-fortresses, having often been compelled to resist the
attacks of banditti, who have ever been ready to organize a descent upon
any place where portable treasure is accumulated. We were told, on good
authority, that every ton of raw material handled here yields on an
average thirty-three dollars. This figure our informant qualified by the
remark that it was the average under ordinary circumstances. Sometimes
the miners strike what is called a bonanza, and for a while ore is
raised from the bowels of the earth which will produce five times this
amount to the ton; but after a short time the yield will return to its
normal condition. Occasionally, but this is rare, nuggets of pure or
nearly pure silver are found weighing from fifteen to twenty pounds
each. The process of milling here is slow, tedious, and wasteful. The
scientific knowledge brought to bear upon the business in the United
States is not heeded in Mexico, and yet these people obtain remarkably
favorable results. The fact is, the precious metal is so very abundant,
and the profits so satisfactory, that the managers and owners grow
careless, having little incentive to spur them on to adopt more
economical and productive methods. An intelligent overseer of a mine at
Guanajuato said to us in reply to a question relating to the usual
process of milling in Mexico: "We get probably sixty per cent. of the
silver contained in the raw ore which we handle, and that is about all
we can expect." On being asked if the men whom we saw working in the
open bed of the river, far below the mills, did not obtain good results,
the superintendent replied, "They succeed best in getting part of the
quicksilver which has been carried away in the process, which they sell
to us again." These men, we observed, worked mostly with shovels and
earthen pans, or with their hands and a flat, shingle-like piece of
wood.
Guanajuato is built on the sides of a deep, broad gorge, surrounded by
rolling hills, the ravine, the mouth of which commences at Marfil, being
terraced on either side to make room for adobe dwellings. Here and there
a patch of green is to be seen, a graceful pepper tree, an orange, or
stately cypress relieving the cheerless, arid scene. The narrow,
irregular streets are roughly paved; but the clouds of dust which one
encounters in the dry season are almost suffocating. Now and then a few
potted flowers in front of a low cabin, a bird cage with its chirping
occupant, a noisy parrot on an exposed perch, a dozing cat before the
door, all afford glimpses of domesticity; but, on the whole, this mining
town, rich in native silver, gave us in its humbler portions the
impression of being mostly composed of people half clothed and seemingly
but half fed.
The city has an alameda and a plaza. The latter, in the centre of the
town, is decorated with bright-colored flowers, tall palm trees, and has
a music pagoda in its centre. This plaza has an elevation of over six
thousand eight hundred feet above the level of the sea. What a queer old
city it is, with its steep, narrow, twisted streets! It might be a bit
abstracted from Moorish Tangier, or from the narrow thoroughfares of
Granada, close by the banks of the turbulent Darro.
The occupation of three fourths of the people is naturally connected
with the mines, and it may be said to be an industrious community. The
pulque shops are many, far too many; but there was no intoxication
noticed on the streets. The open sewers render the death rate unusually
high in Guanajuato, where typhoid fever and pneumonia were particularly
prevalent during our visit. Indeed, the place is notoriously unhealthy.
There are many excellent oil paintings hung in the churches and chapels,
representing, of course, scriptural subjects, including one of the
much-abused St. Sebastian. There are two or three primary and advanced
schools supported by the municipality; but these, we were told, were
bitterly opposed by the priests. We speak often and earnestly concerning
the malign influence of the priesthood, because no one can travel in
Mexico without having the fact constantly forced upon him, at every
turn, that its members and their church are, and have been for nearly
four centuries, the visible curse of the country. The most interesting
of the many churches is the Compania, which has a choice group of bells
in its cupola, and an unusually excellent collection of paintings, among
them a series illustrating the life of the Virgin, by an unknown artist,
besides two fine canvases by Cabrera. But one grows fastidious in
visiting so many of these churches as he approaches the capital, and
becomes satisfied with examining the cathedral in each new city. The
whole country is strewn with these costly and comparatively useless
temples, many of which are gradually crumbling to dust, and nearly all
of which are dirty beyond description. Immediately after the Spanish
conquest a rage possessed the victors to build churches, without regard
to the necessary population for their support, perhaps hoping thereby to
propitiate heaven for their rapaciousness and outrageous oppression of
the native race. The criminal extortion exercised by the priesthood and
their followers forms a dark blot upon the escutcheon of both the church
and the state. O Christianity, as Madame Roland said of Liberty, "what
atrocities have been committed in thy name!"
Charles Lempriere, D. C. L., an able writer upon Mexico, says: "The
Mexican church, as a church, fills no mission of virtue, no mission of
morality, no mission of mercy, no mission of charity. Virtue cannot
exist in its pestiferous atmosphere. The cause of morality does not come
within its practice. It knows no mercy, and no emotion of charity ever
nerves the stony heart of the priesthood, which, with an avarice that
knows no limit, filches the last penny from the diseased and dying
beggar, plunders the widow and orphans of their substance as well as
their virtue, and casts such a horoscope of horrors around the deathbed
of the dying millionaire, that the poor, superstitious wretch is glad to
purchase a chance for the safety of his soul in making the church the
heir of his treasures."
Many of the better class of houses in the upper portion of Guanajuato,
some of which are extremely attractive, are built from a peculiar
sandstone quarried in the neighborhood, which is of many colors, giving
the fronts an odd, but not unpleasant appearance. The balconies of these
dwellings are rendered lovely by a great variety of creeping vines and
flowers in blossom. Among these the honeysuckle prevailed, often shading
pleasant family groups, and forming tableaux in strong contrast with the
more humble and populous portions of the town. In this part of the city,
where the gorge widens, a large reservoir has been constructed which
gets its supply of water from the mountain streams, and affords the
necessary article in the dry season. Along either side of these
reservoirs, for there is a succession of them, are situated the
pleasantest residences. These are so charmingly adapted to the locality,
and depart so far from the conventional Mexican style, as to cause one
to think some American or English architect had been exercising his
skill and taste in the neighborhood. They recalled some of the lovely
villas one sees near Sorrento and along the shores of the Bay of Amalfi,
in southern Italy.
The spacious and ancient structure known as the Alhondiga de Granaditas,
situated on elevated ground, dominates the whole city. It was erected a
century and more ago, and designed for a commercial exchange, but it has
since been greatly altered, and served as a fortification in the civil
wars. It is to-day occupied for the purposes of a prison, where convicts
are judiciously taught various mechanical trades. The view from the
summit of this rude old building takes in the town, the long, narrow
gulch, the gray and rugged hills which reach upward towards the deep
blue sky, dotted here and there by the yellow dome of some ancient
church, and an occasional cypress or graceful palm striving to redeem
the surrounding barrenness. In the prison yard, where the convicts seem
to be permitted to roam at their own pleasure, hens, chickens, and
turkeys were seen dodging in and out among the feet of the prisoners,
with whom they were apparently on the best of terms.
One could not but think that a large number of these prisoners were
probably better off as to creature comforts than when at liberty and
following their own behests. They eat, sleep, and work together at light
occupations, and no attempt is made to keep them from communicating
with each other. They have good air, light, and better food on the
average than they have been accustomed to when providing for themselves,
and they are allowed to keep a part of their own earnings. They are
permitted good bathing facilities, and to play checkers or any other
small games during their off hours, as they term the portions of the day
in which discipline requires no regular service of them. We became
interested in the case of an intelligent American who was held as a
prisoner here. He had been confined for nearly two years without a
trial, for which he was earnestly begging. The charge against him was
that he had been connected with some Mexicans in the robbery of a
railroad train, but of which he declared himself entirely innocent.
Whether innocent or guilty, he was entitled to a fair trial. Our party
took the matter in hand, supplied the man with proper pecuniary means,
interested our local consul in his behalf, and brought the matter to the
attention of the American minister to Mexico, finally obtaining
assurance that justice should be obtained for the prisoner.
Though these places of confinement are conducted with apparent
looseness, still the escape of an inmate rarely takes place unless it is
connived at by the officials. The bullet is very swift in Mexico, as
already instanced, and a man who attempts to escape from legal restraint
is instantly shot without the least hesitation on the part of the guard,
no matter for what he may be confined, even though held only for a
witness. In well-authenticated cases, where it was considered desirable
to get rid of an inmate without the form of a trial, which perhaps
might compromise some favored individual, opportunity was afforded the
prisoner to escape; the temptation was too strong, he could not resist
it; but scarcely had he broken the bounds before the fatal lead laid him
low in death. The place was pointed out to us on these prison walls
where the head of the Indian patriot Hidalgo was exposed upon a spear
point by the Spanish governor of the place, until it crumbled to dust by
the action of the elements.
Quite a pretentious theatre of stone is in course of erection just
opposite the little Plaza de Mejia Mora. The dozen large stone pillars
of the facade were already in place, and there are other evidences that
when finished it will be a spacious and elegant structure. We say when
finished, but that will not be this year, or next, probably; building,
like everything else in this country, is slow of progress. The
significant Spanish word _manana_ is on everybody's lips, and expresses
a ruling principle, nothing being done to-day which can possibly be put
off until to-morrow.
The somewhat singular name of the city is from _guanashuato_, an Indian
word in the Tarrascan tongue, which signifies "hill of the frogs," a
name given to the place by the aborigines because of a huge rocky mound
which resembles a frog, and forms a prominent object in the immediate
environs. With their idolatrous instinct the early natives made this
peculiar rock an object of worship, and, it is said, offered human
sacrifices at its base. No doubt these tribes were sincere, and
positive in proportion to their ignorance,--the idol is but the type of
the worshiper's intelligence. In visiting the Temple of Hanan, at
Canton, we find to-day, a number of "sacred" hogs wallowing in dirt. The
Parsee still worships fire; the uneducated Japanese bows before snakes
and foxes; the Hindoo deifies cows and monkeys. Why should we wonder,
then, that the Toltecs worshiped idols a thousand years ago?
While looking upon the strange stone images, large and small, in the
museum of the national capital, which the ancient people who possessed
this land erected and worshiped, one cannot avoid forming a very low
estimate of such a race. Their deities were not only hideous, but were
made in the crudest possible manner, without one correct line of anatomy
or physiognomy, and represented utterly impossible beings in equally
impossible attitudes. They are, however, of growing interest, and
invaluable as mementoes of a vanished race.
After returning to Silao, we resume our journey southward on the main
line of the Mexican Central Railroad, crossing the State of Guanajuato
through a fertile and well-cultivated region, in strong contrast to much
of the country left behind. At Irapuato, an unimportant, dingy,
dilapidated little town, nineteen miles from Silao, is the junction of
the trunk line and a branch road to Guadalajara, which city we shall
visit on our return trip northward. Irapuato is pleasantly remembered by
all travelers in Mexico, being noted for the fact that fresh ripe
strawberries are sold on the railway trains by the inhabitants every day
in the year. Strangers never pass this point without enjoying a
strawberry picnic, as it may be called, every one purchasing more or
less. Even the train-hands would rebel were they not permitted to tarry
long enough to enjoy the one luxury of the place. The delicious berries
are supplied by native men and women with wild-looking, swarthy faces,
who hand them to the travelers in neat, plain baskets which hold nearly
two quarts each. Basket and strawberries together are sold for
twenty-five cents. The top layer of the fruit is carefully selected, and
most tempting to look upon, the berries being shrewdly "deaconed,"--a
fact of which the purchaser becomes aware when he has consumed the first
portion. However, all are eatable and most grateful to the taste. Human
nature is very much the same in trade, whether exhibited in Faneuil Hall
Market, Boston, or at Irapuato in Mexico. The deaconing process is not
unknown in Massachusetts. Nice, marketable strawberries could be
forwarded from Irapuato to Chicago and all intermediate cities, so as to
be sold in our markets in good condition every day in the year, by means
of the present complete railway connections. The industry of producing
them would be stimulated by an organized effort to its best performance,
and all concerned would be benefited.
About a dozen miles beyond the junction, we arrive at Salamanca, a small
but thriving city. Here, in the Church of San Augustin, are some
elaborate wooden altars of such beautiful workmanship as to have a
national reputation. These carvings are by native workmen, and evince
an artistic taste and facility which one would hardly expect to find
among a people so uncultured as the laboring class of Mexico. There is
genius enough lying dormant in the country; it only lacks development.
The principal industry of the town is the manufacture of buckskin
garments and gloves. Twenty miles further southward is the thriving city
of Celaya, in the charming valley of the Laja, with about twenty
thousand population. The town is situated nearly two miles from the
river, in the State of Guanajuato, and contains extensive cotton and
woolen mills, with the usual abundance of Roman Catholic churches. There
are quite a number of buildings in Celaya, both public and private,
which evince notable architectural beauty. These were erected after the
design of a local Michael Angelo,--a native architect, sculptor, and
painter named Tresguerras. Finally we arrive at Queretaro (pronounced
Ka-ret-a-ro), the capital of the state of the same name, situated a
little over one hundred and fifty miles northwest of the city of Mexico,
and having a population of about fifty thousand. This is generally
admitted to be the most attractive city, in its general effect upon the
stranger, of any in the republic outside of the valley of Mexico, though
we unhesitatingly place Puebla before it. It was here, in 1848, that the
Mexican Congress ratified the treaty of peace with the United States.
Perhaps some of the readers of these pages will remember with what
distinguished honors Mr. Seward was received in this city during his
visit to Mexico in 1869.
Queretaro was founded by the Aztecs about four hundred years ago, and
was captured by the Spaniards in 1531. It contains numerous fine stone
buildings, mostly of a religious character, and has some very spacious
public squares. A grand stone aqueduct over five miles long brings a
bountiful supply of good water from the neighboring mountains. The
lofty, substantial masonry of the aqueduct reminds one of similar works
which cross the Campagna at Rome, and those in the environs of Cairo.
This work must have been originally a tremendous undertaking, many of
the arches, where ravines and natural undulations are crossed, being
nearly a hundred feet in height. The cost of the aqueduct is said to
have been borne by a single individual, to whose memory the citizens
have erected a statue on one of the plazas. The water-supply thus
brought into the town feeds a dozen or more large, bright, crystal
fountains in different sections, around which picturesque groups of
water-carriers of both sexes are constantly seen filling their jars for
domestic uses. To an American eye there is a sort of Rip-Van-Winkle look
about the grass-grown streets of Queretaro. We are here some six
thousand feet above the sea, but the place enjoys a most equable and
temperate climate. It was in the suburbs of this city that Maximilian
and his two trusted generals, Mejia and Miramon, the latter ex-president
of the republic, were shot by order of a Mexican court-martial,
notwithstanding the appeal for mercy in their behalf by more than one
European power, in which the United States government also joined. The
Princess Salm-Salm rode across country on horseback a distance of over
one hundred miles, to implore Juarez to spare the life of Maximilian;
but it was in vain. Juarez was obliged to look at the matter in a
political light, whatever his own inclination towards clemency may have
been, and therefore refused to annul the sentence of death. Putting all
sentimentality aside, it seems to the author that Maximilian justly
merited the fate which he so systematically provoked. The measure which
he meted to others was in turn accorded to himself. He issued a decree
that every officer taken in arms against his self-assumed authority
should be promptly shot without trial. This is considered admissible in
the case of professed highwaymen and banditti, but such an order issued
against a large body of organized natives who sincerely believed
themselves fighting for national liberty was unprecedented and uncalled
for. This order was enforced in the instance of some noted patriot
leaders. The Mexican generals Arteaga and Salazar, with Villagomez and
Felix Diaz, who were ignorant of the existence of any such order or
determination, were all shot at Uruapam, October 21, 1865. When
Maximilian was himself taken prisoner, the like summary punishment
became his just award. In the state legislative palace of Queretaro we
were shown the table on which the death sentence was signed by the
members of the court-martial, the coffin in which Maximilian's body was
brought from the place of execution, and a fine oil painting
representing the late would-be emperor.
All strangers who visit the city are taken out to the grounds where the
execution took place. One naturally regards the spot with considerable
interest. It is marked by three rude stones within an iron-railed
inclosure, each stone bearing the name of one of the victims, in the
order in which they stood before the firing party on the Cerro de los
Campanas, two miles from the city proper. It seemed serene and peaceful
enough as we looked upon the locality, surrounded by highly cultivated
fields, dotted here and there by sheep and cattle quietly grazing in the
calm, genial sunshine.
The whole of the Archduke's Mexican purpose and career was a great and
absurd political blunder. Personally he was a pure and honest man,
though a very weak one. He never possessed mental power equal to that of
his wife, who won from the Mexicans unbounded and deserved praise by her
devotion to her husband and to the public good. Carlotta freely expended
her private fortune for the relief of the poor of the national capital,
and in the founding of a much needed and grand free hospital for women.
When Maximilian received notice that Napoleon III. was about to desert
him and his cause, he was absolutely discouraged, and would have
resigned at once and returned to Europe; but his courageous wife
dissuaded him. She started the very next day for Vera Cruz, on her way
to induce the French emperor to keep his word and hold sacred the treaty
of Miramar. In vain did she plead with Napoleon, being only insulted for
her trouble; nor was she received much better by the Pope, Pius IX.
Disappointment met her everywhere. The physical and mental strain
proved too much for Carlotta. Brain fever ensued, and upon her partial
recovery it was found that she was bereft of reason. More than twenty
years have passed since the faithful wife was thus stricken, nor has
reason yet dawned upon her benighted brain.
After three years of ceaseless struggle, Maximilian had grown
desperately weary, in a vain effort to reconcile the various political
factions of the country, so that to one in his condition of broken
health and disappointment, death must have been a relief from mental and
physical suffering. His body rests at last in the burial place of the
Hapsburgs, thousands of miles from the spot where he fell, while those
of Mejia and Miramon lie in the Campo Santo of San Fernando in the city
of Mexico. The broad view from this "Hill of the Bells" is very
beautiful, and it lives vividly in the memory, taking in the green
valley in every direction, spread with fields of undulating grain ready
for the reapers, ornamented with umbrageous trees, the city with its
mass of towers, domes, and stone dwellings forming the background. A
score of ancient churches, convents, and chapels may be counted from the
hill-top. The alameda lies on one side of the town, consisting of some
fifty or sixty acres nearly square, about which a broad driveway is
arranged, the whole charmingly laid out, with greensward and noble shade
trees. The Church of the Cross is on slightly elevated ground, and forms
a conspicuous architectural feature in the general view. It was in this
structure that Maximilian made his headquarters, which he partially
fortified, and where, after a protracted siege, he was betrayed into the
hands of his enemies; from this place he marched to execution on the
19th of June, 1867.
The Plaza Mayor of Queretaro is a beauty and a joy forever, with its
musical fountain uttering ceaseless and refreshing notes, its tropical
verdure, its tufted palms and flowering shrubs, its fruitful banana
trees, pomegranates, and fragrant roses. Here Maximilian was accustomed
to pass an hour daily, and here, we were told, he took his evening
recreation, his favorite seat being upon the curbstone of the capacious
fountain. The besiegers discovered the fact, directing shot and shell
accordingly at this special point, and though the emperor was unharmed
by the missiles, a monumental statue situated within a few feet of him
was shattered to pieces. In the sunny afternoons the pretty senoritas
come to the plaza with their heads and necks lightly shrouded in Spanish
veils, and otherwise clothed in diaphanous garments, short enough to
show their shapely ankles in white hose, and their small feet in
high-heeled, pointed slippers. He must be indeed calloused who can
withstand, unmoved, the battery of their witching eyes.
There is a large cotton factory about two miles from the city, known as
"The Hercules Mills," having over twenty thousand spindles, and nearly a
thousand looms. The machinery was imported from this country. A colossal
marble statue of Hercules is seen presiding over one of the large
fountains, in the midst of ornamental trees and flowers. This statue
cost fourteen thousand dollars before it left Italy. The mill gives
employment to some twelve or fourteen hundred natives, mostly women and
girls. One of the young sons of the house of Rubio, the family name of
those who own this property, went to England years ago, and learned the
trade of cotton spinning. This industry as now carried on was
established by him, and is still conducted by the same manager, Don
Cayetano Rubio. The excellent system of the establishment would do
credit to a Lowell or Lawrence factory; indeed, almost any similar
establishment might take a favorable lesson from this at Queretaro. The
immediate surroundings form a well-arranged and fragrant flower garden,
ornamented with fountains and statuary, with fruit trees, where the
employees are all welcome, and the sweet fragrance of which they can
enjoy even during the working hours. Wages, to be sure, are
insignificant, being only about forty cents a day for each competent
operative, and the hours are long, twelve out of each twenty-four being
devoted to work; but as wages go in Mexico this is considered to be a
fair rate, with which all are content. We were told that a portion of
the cotton used in the mill comes from Vera Cruz, that is, the short
staple; the long comes mostly from the Pacific coast; while fully half
of the raw material is imported from the United States. The fibre of the
Mexican cotton is longer, and not so soft as the American product; but
the cotton raised in some parts of the republic has this remarkable
property, that for several consecutive seasons the plant continues to
bear profitable crops, while in our Southern States the soil must not
only be fertilized, but the seed must also be renewed annually. The
cotton plant is indigenous to Mexico, and is more prolific in its yield
than it is with our Southern planters. It is the same with cotton as
with wool; though quite able to do so, Mexico does not at present grow
enough of either staple to supply her own mills, or produce enough of
the manufactured article to furnish the home market. Both water and
steam power are employed as motors in the Hercules Mill. The overshot
wheel used in the former connection is a monster in size, being
forty-six feet in diameter. Such has heretofore been the disturbed
condition of the country that it has been found necessary to organize
and maintain a regular company of soldiers, with ample barracks inside
the walls, to defend the property of the mill; and it has three times
repulsed formidable attacks made upon the well-fortified walls and gates
which surround it.
Catholic churches and priests form, as usual in all Spanish towns, a
prominent feature of the neighborhood; and we are sorry to say that
beggars are very importuning and numerous. It is the same in Spain and
in Italy as it is in Mexico,--where the priests abound, beggars do much
more abound.
In the environs of Queretaro one sees immense plantations devoted to the
growth of the maguey plant, from which the national beverage is
manufactured. Pulque is to the Mexican what claret is to the Frenchman,
or beer to the German, being simply the fermented juice of the aloe. It
is said that it was first discovered here, though its advent is
attributed to many other towns in Mexico; but it is certain that either
the process of manufacture here is superior to that of most other
localities, or the plant grown here possesses peculiar properties, as it
commands the market. When we consider the matter, it is surprising to
recall the number of uses to which the maguey plant is put. Paper is
made from the fibre of the leaves, as well as twine and rope; its thorns
answer for native pins and needles; the roots are used by the Indians in
place of soap; the young sprouts are eaten after being slightly roasted;
while in the dried form the leaves are used both for fuel and for
thatching the native cabins. The maguey plant has been called the
miracle of nature, on account of the large number of articles which are
made from it and the variety of uses to which it is adapted. It may be
added that of all these properties of the agave the early Toltecs were
fully aware, and improved them for their own benefit. We have measured
specimens of the well developed plant, the leaves of which were eight
feet in length, a foot in width, and eight inches in thickness. When the
maguey is about seven or eight years old it is at its best for the
production of the desired liquor, and is tapped for the milk-like sap,
of which it yields from two quarts to a gallon daily for three or four
months. This natural liquor is then called _agua miel_, or honey water,
but when it has gone through the process of fermentation it becomes
_pulque_. If the plant is left to itself, at about ten years of age
there springs up from the centre of the leaves a tall stem, twelve or
fifteen feet in height, which bears upon its apex clusters of rich
yellow flowers, and then the whole withers and dies,--it never blooms
but once. The maguey plant constituted the real vineyards of the Aztecs,
as well as the tribes preceding them, its product being the drink of the
people of the country long before the days of the Montezumas. At this
writing, over eighty thousand gallons of pulque are consumed daily in
the national capital. It is to be regretted, as we have seen it
announced, that an American company propose to go into the business of
pulque making by the use of improved facilities, claiming that it can be
produced by the use of this machinery at one half the present cost, the
plants being also made to yield more copiously. Of course it will be
adulterated, every intoxicant is, except pulque as at present made from
the maguey by the Indians.
The Mexicans have two other forms of spirituous liquors, namely
_mescal_, which is also prepared from another species of the maguey, by
pressing the leaves in a mill, the juice thus extracted being distilled;
and _aguardiente_, or rum, made from sugar-cane juice. Both of these are
powerful intoxicants. A very valuable and harmless article is thus
sacrificed to make a liquid poison. So in our Middle and Western States
we pervert both barley and rye from their legitimate purposes, and turn
them into whiskey,--liquefied ruin.
Wherever we go among civilized or savage races, in islands or upon
continents, in the frigid North or the melting South, we find man
resorting to some stimulant other than natural food and drink. It is an
instinctive craving, apparently, exhibited and satisfied as surely in
the wilds of Africa, or the South Sea Islands, as by the opium-eating
Chinese, or the brandy-drinking Anglo-Saxons. Every people have sought
some article with which to stimulate the human system. Oftenest this is
a fermented liquor; but various articles have been found to serve the
purpose. The Aztecs, and the Toltecs before them, had the fermented
juice of the maguey plant. The Chinese get their spirituous drink from
rice. People living under the equator distill the saccharine product of
the sugar-cane for aguardiente. The German combines his malt and hops to
produce beer. The Frenchman depends upon the juice of the grape in
various forms, from light claret to fierce Bordeaux brandy. The Puritans
of Massachusetts distilled New England rum from molasses. The faithful
Mohammedan, who drinks neither wine nor spirits, makes up for his
abstinence by free indulgence in coffee. In the islands of the Indian
Ocean the natives stimulate themselves by chewing the betel nut; and in
the Malacca Straits Settlements, Penang, Singapore, and other islands,
the people obtain their spirit from the fermented sap of the toddy-palm.
In Japan the natives get mildly stimulated by immoderate drinking of tea
many times each day; and all of the civilized and barbaric world is
addicted, more or less, to the use of tobacco.
One of the staple commodities produced here is that classic, beautiful,
and precious gem, the opal. It is found imbedded in a certain kind of
rock, in the neighboring mountains, sometimes in cubes, but oftener in
very irregular forms. It will be remembered that Nonius, who possessed a
large and brilliant specimen of the opal, preferred exile to
surrendering it to Marc Antony. Whether he was opal-mad or not, it is
clear that persons who visit this place are very apt to become
monomaniacs upon the subject of this beautiful gem. Our party expended
considerable sums for these precious stones, cut and uncut, during the
brief period of our visit. The choicest of these specimens is the true
fire-opal, which in brilliancy and iridescence excels all others. Nearly
every person one meets in Queretaro seems to have more or less of these
lovely stones to sell; nine tenths of them are of a very cheap quality,
really fine ones, being the exception, are valued accordingly. The
pretty flower-girl, who first offers you her more fragrant wares,
presently becomes confidential, and, drawing nearer, brings out from
some mysterious fold of her dress half a dozen sparkling stones which
she is anxious to dispose of. Even the water carrier, with his huge red
earthen jar strapped to his head and back, if he sees a favorable
opportunity, will importune the stranger regarding these fiery little
stones. These irresponsible itinerants have some ingenious way of
filling up the cracks in an opal successfully for the time being; but,
after a few days, the defect will again appear.
The finest specimens of the opal come from Hungary. They are harder in
texture than those found in other parts of the world. Those brought from
Australia are nearly equal in hardness and brilliancy, while, so far as
our own experience goes, the Mexican often excel either in variety of
color and brilliancy; but it is not quite so hard as those from the
other two sources. This quality of hardness is one criterion of value in
precious stones, the diamond coming first, the ruby following it, and so
on. The author has seen an opal in Pesth weighing fourteen carats, for
which five thousand dollars were refused. They can be purchased at
Queretaro at from ten dollars to ten hundred; for the latter price a
really splendid gem may be had, emitting a grand display of prismatic
tints, and all aglow with fire. The natives, notwithstanding the seeming
abundance of the stones, hold very tenaciously to the valuation which
they first place upon them. Of course, really choice specimens are
always rare, and quickly disposed of. While the ancients considered the
opal a harbinger of good fortune to the possessor, it has been deemed in
our day to be exactly the reverse; and many lovers of the gem have
denied themselves the pleasure of wearing it from a secret superstition
as to its unlucky attributes. This fancy has been gradually dispelled,
and fashion now indorses the opal as being both beautiful and desirable.
Mexico also produces many other precious stones, among which are the
ruby, amethyst, topaz, garnet, pearl, agate, turquoise, and chalcedony,
besides onyx and many sorts of choice marbles.
On our route to the national capital we pass through a number of small
cities and towns, while we ascend and descend many varying grades.
Native women, here and there, bring _agua miel_, or fresh pulque, to us,
of which the passengers partake freely. It is a pleasant beverage when
first drawn from the plant, very much like new cider, and has no
intoxicating effect until fermentation takes place. As we progress
southward, occasional wayside shrines with a cross and a picture of the
Virgin are seen, before which a native woman is sometimes kneeling, but
never a man. Among other interesting places we come to Tula, which was
the capital city of the Toltecs more than twelve centuries ago. The
cathedral was erected by the invaders in 1553. The baptismal font in the
church is a piece of Toltec work. There is to be seen the yellow,
crumbling walls of a crude Spanish chapel, even older than the
cathedral, now fast returning to its native dust. There are other
extremely interesting ruins here, notably a portion of a prehistoric
column, and the lower half of a very large statue situated in the plaza.
Mr. Ruskin said in his pedantic way that he could not be induced to
travel in America because there were no ruins. There _are_ ruins here
and in Yucatan which antedate by centuries anything of recorded history
relating to the British Isles. Across the Tula River and up the Cerro
del Tesoro are some other ancient ruins which have greatly interested
antiquarians, embracing carved stones and what must once have been part
of a group of dwellings, built of stone laid in mud and covered with
cement. The valley shows a rich array of foliage and flowers, forming
bits of delightful scenery. There are some fifteen hundred inhabitants
in Tula; but it must once have been a large city; indeed, the name
indicates that, meaning "the place of many people." The locality of the
ancient capital is now mostly overgrown and hidden from sight. We are
fifty miles from the city of Mexico at Tula, and about seven hundred
feet below it. The records of the Spanish conquest tell us that the
natives of this ancient capital were among the first, as a whole
community, to embrace the Christian religion; and it seems that its
people ever remained stanch allies of Cortez in extending his conquests.
Here we experienced one of those freaks of tropical weather, a furious
summer hail-storm. The thermometer had ranged about 80 deg. in the early
day, when suddenly heavy clouds seemed to gather from several points of
the sky at the same time. The thermometer dropped quickly some 30 deg.. It
was a couple of hours past noon when the clouds began to empty their
contents upon the earth; down came the hailstones like buckshot, only
twice as large, covering as with a white sheet the parched ground, which
had not been wet by a drop of rain for months. This unusual storm
prevailed for nearly an hour before it exhausted its angry force.
"Exceptional?" repeated the station-master on the line of the Mexican
Central Railroad, in reply to a query as to the weather. "I have been
here ten years, and this is the first time I have seen snow or hail at
any season. I should rather say it was exceptional." By and by, after
stampeding all the exposed cattle, and driving everybody to the nearest
shelter and keeping them there, the inky clouds dispersed almost as
suddenly as they had gathered, and the thermometer gradually crept back
to a figure nearly as high as at noon. The fury of the storm was
followed by a sunset of rarest loveliness, eliciting ejaculations of
delight at the varied and vivid combinations of prismatic colors. One
does not soon forget such a scene as was presented at the close of this
day. The sun set in a blaze of orange and scarlet, seen across the long
level of the cactus-covered prairie, while soft twilight shadows
gathered about the crumbling, vine-screened walls of the old Spanish
church in the environs of Tula. Soon the stars came into view, one by
one, while the moon rode high and serene among the lesser lights of the
still blue sky.