Ancient Cholula.--A Grand Antiquity.--The Cheops of Mexico.--Traditions
relating to the Pyramid.--The Toltecs.--Cholula of To-Day.--
Comprehensive View.--A Modern Tower of Babel.--Multiplicity of Ruins.
--Cortez's Exaggerations.--Sacrifices of Human Beings.--The Hateful
Inquisition.--A Wholesale Murderous Scheme.--Unreliable Historians.
--Spanish Falsification.--Interesting Churches.--Off the Track.--
Personal Relics of Cortez.--Torturing a Victim.--Aztec Antiquities.
--Tlaxcala.--Church of San Francisco.--Peon Dwellings.--Cortez and
the Tlaxcalans.
In leaving Puebla for Cholula, which lies at a distance of only a couple
of leagues to the westward, we first pass on the left the fine
architectural group formed by the church of San Javior and Guadalupe,
with its attractive cluster of domes, spires, and pinnacles. Our course
lies through broad maguey fields and across the Atoyac River, a shallow
stream most of the year; but at times it becomes a rushing torrent. The
country hereabouts is under excellent cultivation, though the awkward
plough introduced by the Spaniards centuries ago still does service
here. Almost as soon as the city disappears from view, there looms in
the distance the grand pyramid of Cholula, crowned by a lofty modern
chapel, its dome of enameled and parti-colored tiles glistening in the
warm sunshine. Far beyond the pyramid the volcanoes are seen in their
lonely grandeur. Cholula lies upon a perfectly level plain, broken only
by the great artificial mound called the pyramid, situated on the
eastern outskirt of the present city. The town, Spanish history tells
us, once contained over two hundred thousand inhabitants; but to-day
there are less than nine thousand, while of its four hundred reputed
temples, scarcely a trace now remains.
When Cortez made his advent here he found Cholula to be the sacred city
of the Aztecs, where their main body of high priests and their most
venerated temples were located. Is it possible that these mud-built
cabins represent a city once so grand and so populous? Can it be that
these half-clad, half-fed peons whom we see about us, exhibiting only a
benighted intelligence, represent Aztecs and Toltecs who are supposed to
have possessed a liberal share of art and culture; a people, whose
astronomers were able to determine for themselves the apparent motion of
the sun and the length of the solar year: who had the art of polishing
the hardest of precious stones; who cast choice and perfect figures of
silver and gold in one piece; and who made delicate filigree ornaments
without solder? These are achievements belonging to quite a high state
of civilization. The cabins consist mostly of one room, in which lives a
whole family, with the bare earth for a floor, the open door often
affording the only light which reaches the interior. There are some
better dwellings here, to be sure; but all are adobe, and this brief
description is applicable to nine tenths of the people and their rude
dwellings.
Cholula has one grand antiquity, which even the ruthless finger of Time
has made little impression upon, being the remains of one of those
remarkable earth-pyramids which was probably built by the Toltecs;
though how they could erect a mountain without beasts of burden is an
endless puzzle. The rains, winds, and storms of ages have opened
crevices in the sides of the artificial hill; but these have only served
to show what labor it must have cost to build the structure in stout
layers of sun-dried brick, so substantially that it has lasted thus
intact for many centuries. It is not at all unreasonable to fix the date
of its completion at a thousand years ago. This peculiar elevation rises
a little over two hundred feet above the plain, and measures about a
thousand feet square at the base, forming one of the most interesting
relics in all Mexico; though its height is less than half that of Cheops
in Egypt, its base is twice as large, covering about as many acres as
Boston Common. In its composition it strongly resembles the pyramids of
Upper Egypt. On its summit is a level space one hundred and sixty feet
square, the view from which is one of vast breadth and beauty, embracing
the entire valley of Puebla. The four sides of the huge mound face the
cardinal points, the whole being composed of alternate strata of adobe
bricks and clay. The sides are mostly overgrown with trees and shrubs;
but a winding road, well paved with stones laid in broad, deep steps,
leads to the top. The constant wear of centuries has thrown the original
shape somewhat out of harmony with the supposed idea; but there is
quite enough extant to establish the original design. One corner has
been excavated to a considerable extent to make room for the railway, an
exposure which has served a double purpose, since it has proven the
whole elevation to be artificial, constructed in layers, and not a
natural hill, as some casual observers have declared it to be. The
material of which the pyramid is composed is earth, sun-dried bricks,
limestone, and lava. It is thought by some that besides having the apex
crowned originally with a temple of worship, the sides were covered by
adobe houses from base to near the summit, accommodating a large
population. That there were once terraces and steps here which would
carry out such an idea is very clear from the portions which have been
laid bare by excavation.
The mounds of our Western and Southwestern States are almost the
counterpart of this grand elevation at Cholula, so far as the idea goes,
except that they are mere pigmies in comparison. The fact is worth
recalling that the same species of domestic implements of stone which
are found from time to time deeply buried in portions of the United
States are also exhumed here. So in the museum of the capital one sees
stone hatchets, pestles, mortars, and arrowheads of the same shapes that
we have been accustomed to find beneath the soil of our Northern States.
The most casual observer will be satisfied that this pyramid dates long
before the time of the Spanish conquest, and that it was not built by
the race of Indians whom Cortez found in possession. It may represent a
race who existed even prior to the Toltecs, to whom the Aztecs were
indebted for all their arts and refinements, and upon which it is
doubted if they much improved. No one can possibly say how many
centuries are looking down upon us from this colossal ruin. We are told
of one tradition, recorded by a Jesuit priest named Torquemada, which
ascribes the origin of this pyramid to a period contemporary with that
of the Tower of Babel, in the land of Shinar. The tradition also speaks
of a great deluge, and says that this artificial mound was originally
designed to reach the clouds; but the gods were angered by the attempt,
and dispersed the workmen with lightning, after it had got to its
present height. With mountains close at hand, so much loftier than any
human agency could achieve, it is a mystery what motive could have
actuated a people to rear this colossal mound except it was for the
foundation of a temple. The pretended legend of aboriginal origin is no
doubt a pure fabrication, like nine tenths of the priestly records
relating to Mexico.
The ancient builders erected a shrine and sacrificial stone on the
summit of the pyramid. This idolatrous temple was promptly destroyed by
Cortez, and the place where it stood is now occupied by a Roman Catholic
chapel dedicated to the Virgin of Remedios. The present edifice is of
quite modern construction, replacing the original chapel erected by the
Spaniards, which was destroyed by fire. It struck us as being more than
usually tawdry in it equipment. Its cupola is decidedly out of
proportion to the small body of the structure. There are traditions
among the natives here, as is usually the case in relation to all
antique remains, telling of interior galleries and chambers of great
extent; but no confidence is placed in such rumors. The excavation
already referred to laid bare a tomb containing two skeletons, with a
couple of idols in basalt, also a small collection of aboriginal
pottery. The sepulchre was square, with stone walls supported by cypress
beams. The discovery of these two skeletons in one corner and at the
base of the pyramid does not indicate that it was reared for the purpose
of a tomb. It would require the discovery of such a burial near the
centre of the immense mound to indicate such a design.
The hoary-headed monarch, Popocatepetl, looms in the distance, proudly
dominating the scene, with Puebla and the hill of Cinco de Mayo on the
right. The exceeding transparency of the atmosphere brings these distant
objects seemingly close to the observer, as though he was looking at
them through a telescope.
The small city of Cholula is spread out at the base of the pyramid, and
beyond it are wide, fertile fields of grain and alfalfa, with gardens of
semi-tropical fruits. One large orchard seemed to be a very garden of
Hesperides, yellow with golden oranges and sweet with fragrant blossoms.
The pyramid originally stood near the centre of the town, the streets
radiating from it; but the dwellings which once lined these
thoroughfares have long since crumbled into dust, leaving standing only
the useless stone churches, of which there are forty dotting the plain
here and there, built without regard to any adjacent population. Two
lesser pyramids are visible near the main elevation. Farther away, small
villages, each with its church tower, add interest to the scene, while
the mellow notes of distant bells mingle and float upon the air. The
multiplicity of these churches shows how dense must have been the
population in the time of Cortez, as it was the practice of the invading
Spaniards to compel the natives not only to demolish their own temples,
but to build a Christian church in place of each one thus destroyed. A
number of the churches are abandoned and are gradually going to decay.
"Why," said a practical individual of our party, "it's all churches and
no town." The site of the ancient city is very evident from the lines of
its regular streets stretching away in all directions.
"I assure your majesty," wrote Cortez from Cholula to his sovereign in
Spain, "that I have counted from a mosque or temple four hundred mosques
and as many towers, all of which were mosques in this city." We have
here an example of this adventurer's style of exaggeration and
hyperbole. If we take three hundred and sixty from the four hundred
"mosques" which he pretends to have seen, there will be forty left,
which is probably about the truth. Cortez not only uses oriental words
to express himself, but is exercised by a truly oriental extravagance in
his stories. There are no "mosques" in Mexico, nor were the native
temples anything like such structures. There are sufficient remains of
Aztec temples left to show that they were plain in construction, of
pyramidal form, without towers, and that their altars were erected on
the summits in the open air, surrounded by broad platforms.
This pyramid was dedicated to the benevolent god Quetzalcoatl, "the
great, good, and fair god of the Aztecs." Yet, it seemed to have been
considered necessary to sacrifice human life to his godship in a most
sanguinary manner, as was the practice at the great temple of the
capital. We are told that twelve thousand lives were laid at the feet of
Quetzalcoatl in a single year! If this is true (which we very much
doubt), one would say that the advent of Cortez with all his cruelty was
a blessing that came none too soon. No matter how low the type of
Christianity which replaced the murderous devotion of these idolaters,
any change, it would seem, must have been for the better. The frightful
barbarity of the Aztecs is apparently shown by the records of Spanish
priests concerning the sacrificial stone, now preserved in the museum at
the national capital, upon which the victims were bound, their hearts
cut out and laid reverentially thereon, while their bodies were cast
down the declivity of the pyramid to the exultant multitude below, who
cooked and ate them at religious banquets. Even the hateful Inquisition
was an improvement upon this ghastly cannibalism covered up by a cloak
of religious rites.
It was Southey who expressed the opinion in poetic lines that heaven
made blind zeal and bloody avarice its ministers of vengeance against
the Aztec idolaters. Still, the Aztec remains and is the governing race
in Mexico, while the Spaniards as a distinct people have virtually
disappeared.
But we must take the record of these events with a degree of caution.
That fable and history have been indiscriminately mingled by the Spanish
authors is plain enough from the fact that ridiculous miracles are
constantly recorded by them as having actually occurred, which were the
pure invention of the priesthood, designed to influence and awe the
ignorant native race. This reduces us to the unfortunate condition of
being obliged to doubt what may have been historically true. The
Inquisition exercised a censorship over everything designed for
publication, and unless it subserved the interest of that fiendish
institution, it was made to do so, or it was suppressed. These facts
caused Prescott to say: "In short, the elements of truth and falsehood
became so blended that history was converted into romance, and romance
received the credit due to history." The confusion of fact and fiction
in the writings of Spanish historians, as they are called, is so grave
and obvious as simply to disgust the honest seeker after truth. This is
the case not only as relating to Mexico, but the past story of Spain
both at home and abroad. "What is history," says the first Napoleon,
"but a fable agreed upon?"
The horrid pictures of human sacrifice as represented by the Spanish
chroniclers, also by the letters and despatches of Cortez, we do not
credit, though undoubtedly they had some foundation in truth. It is the
characteristic of all these records to persistently distort facts so as
to further the purposes of the writers, and as to correctness where
figures are concerned, they are scarcely ever to be relied upon. Though
forced to admit this want of veracity, Prescott has relied almost
entirely upon these sources for the material of his popular work. No
person can calmly survey the field to-day, compare the statements of the
various authors, and visit the country itself, without seeing clearly
how much of absurd exaggeration and monstrous fiction has been foisted
upon the reading public relative to this period of the conquest of
Mexico.
"These chroniclers," says Bancroft, "were swayed like other writers of
their time, and all other times, by the spirit of the age, and by
various religious, political, and personal prejudices."
"I lay little stress upon Spanish testimonies," says Adair, "for time
and ocular proof have convinced us of the labored falsehood of almost
all their historical narrations."
At the advent of the Spaniards, Cholula was doubtless the commercial
centre of the plain; Puebla, the now large and thriving capital of the
state, was then a mere hamlet in comparison. It was also the Mecca of
the Aztecs, who came from far and near to bow down before Quetzalcoatl.
The grand public square or plaza is still extant where Cortez
perpetrated his most outrageous act of butchery, killing, it is said,
three thousand Cholulans who had assembled unarmed and in good faith, in
compliance with his request. Everything in and about this spacious area
seems strangely silent and dilapidated, as though stricken by decay. The
present interest and attraction of the place exists almost solely in
the pyramid and the tragic legends of its vanished people. A few ancient
trees ornament the neglected plaza, about which a score of weary burros
were seen cropping the scanty herbage which springs up naturally here
and there. The spot is said to exhibit some life on market-days, but it
was lonely and deserted when we looked upon it, while the dry earth
seemed on fire under the intense heat of the sun. It was difficult,
while looking upon this gloomy area, to realize that the place was once
conspicuous for its trade and manufactures, for its wealth and splendor.
The social and official life of Cholula is reported at one time to have
even rivaled the court of Montezuma. Here religious processions,
sacrifices, and festivals were of continual occurrence, and no other
city had so great a concourse of priests and so incessant a round of
ceremonies.
The church known as the Royal Chapel, and also as the Church of the
Seven Naves, situated at the northeast corner of the plaza, was of
considerable interest. The last named was closed, undergoing radical
repairs; but our curiosity was aroused, and a small fee soon opened a
side door through which entrance was effected. The repairs going on will
greatly change its original appearance. One could not but regret to see
its ancient and delicate Moorish frescoes ruthlessly obliterated, the
colors and designing of which so completely harmonized with the
architecture and with the dim light which struggled in through the deep,
small, mullioned windows. This chapel, with its sixty-four supporting
columns, forcibly recalled the peculiar interior of the cathedral
mosque at Cordova in Spain, which, indeed, must have suggested to Cortez
so close though diminutive a copy, for it was built by his special
orders and after his specified plans.
It is said that the early dwellers in this region excelled in various
mechanical arts, especially in the working of metals and the manufacture
of cotton and agave cloth, to which may be added a delicate kind of
pottery, rivaling anything of the sort belonging to that period.
Examples of this pottery are often exhumed in the neighborhood, and as
we suspect are quite as often manufactured to order, for the present
generation of Aztecs is not only very shrewd and cunning, but also very
able in imitating all given models in earthenware. This sort of work
forms a remunerative industry at the present time in Cholula. As we pass
the open doors and windows of the dwelling-houses, cotton goods are
weaving on hand looms by members of the families. Another local industry
was observed here, namely, the manufacture of fireworks of a toy
character, which we were told were shipped to all parts of the country.
The engine which had drawn our train from Puebla hither, after doing so,
managed to get derailed, and a Mexican crowd spent hours in an
ineffectual attempt to get the iron horse once more upon the track. As
the day drew to its close our party was prepared to return to Puebla;
but there was the engine stubbornly fixed upon the sleepers of the
track, and the wheels partially buried in the ground. Mexican ingenuity
was not equal to the emergency, so Yankee genius stepped forward. One
of our party conversant with such matters took charge, and by a few
judicious directions and appliances improvised upon the spot, he soon
had the heavy engine once more in its proper position, and we started
back to Puebla amid the cheers of the Mexicans at Yankee skill and
energy, which seemed to them equal to any exigency.
A branch railway takes us from Puebla to Santa Ana, from whence ancient
Tlaxcala is reached by tramway. It is the capital of the state bearing
the same name, and has some four or five thousand inhabitants; it is
credited with having had over fifty thousand three centuries ago. Had it
not been that civil discord reigned at the time of the advent of Cortez
here, he could never have conquered Montezuma; but the Tlaxcalans were
induced by cunning diplomacy to join the Spaniards, and their united
forces accomplished that which neither could have done single-handed.
One is struck by the diminutive size of the native men and women at
Tlaxcala. The latter are especially, short in stature, the never absent
baby lashed to their backs making the mothers look still shorter.
This place is remarkable for the accumulation of Aztec and Spanish
antiquities. The municipal palace, situated on the east side of the
plaza, contains four remarkable oil paintings bearing the date of the
conquest. Here also is preserved the war-worn banner of Spain, which was
carried by Cortez from the time of his first landing at Vera Cruz
throughout all his triumphant career. The material is rich, being of
heavy silk brocade, the color a light maroon, not badly faded
considering its age. Large sums of money have been offered for this
ancient and interesting banner, the object being to take it back to
Spain, from whence it came nearly four hundred years ago; but the
Tlaxcalans refuse to part with it at any price. Despite the lapse of so
many years and its having passed through so many vicissitudes, the flag
is nearly perfect at this writing. It is eight or nine feet long and six
broad, cut in swallow-tail fashion. The iron spearhead bears the
monogram of the sovereigns of Spain, and the original staff, now broken,
is still preserved with the flag. Here one is also shown the arms of
Tlaxcala illuminated on parchment and bearing the signature of Charles
V., together with the standard presented to the local chiefs by Cortez;
the robes which they wore when baptized, and a collection of idols which
have been unearthed from time to time in this immediate neighborhood,
are also shown in the municipal palace. In the corridor stands the great
treasure chest, with departments for silver and gold. This was locked
with four different keys, one being held by each of four officers who
were unitedly responsible for the treasures, the chest thus requiring
the presence of the four when there was occasion to open it.
There are many personal relics of Cortez shown to the visitors at the
municipal palace; but the intelligent observer, aided by the light of
history, finds it difficult to accord much admiration to this man. He is
represented to have been handsome, commanding in person, brave, but far
from reckless, and to have possessed strong magnetic power over his
associates and those whom he desired to influence. He was eloquent and
persuasive, exercising an irresistible control over the half savage
people whom he came to conquer. Another secret of his influence with the
authorities at home, in Spain, was his never-failing fidelity to the
legitimate sovereign, and the shrewd despatch of rich presents and much
gold to his royal master. We know him to have been ambitious, cruel,
heartless, avaricious, and false. He deserted his faithful wife in
Spain, a second in Cuba (whom tradition accuses him of murdering), and
was shamefully unfaithful to the devoted Marina, mother of his
acknowledged son, she who was his native interpreter, and who more than
once saved his life from immediate peril, finally guiding his footsteps
to a victorious consummation of his most ambitious designs. Cortez owed
more of his success to her than to his scanty battalions. If nothing
else would serve to stamp his name with lasting infamy, the infernal
torture which he inflicted upon the ill-fated Guatemozin, for the
purpose of extorting information as to the hiding-place of the imperial
treasures, should do so. The true record of the life of Cortez reads
more like romance than like the truth. This is not perhaps the place to
refer to his private life, which history admits to have been perfidious.
Landing on the continent with a band scarcely more than half the number
of a modern regiment, he prepared to traverse an unknown country
thronged with savage tribes, with whose character, habits, and means of
defense he was wholly unacquainted. We know that this romantic adventure
was finally crowned with success, though meeting with various checks and
stained with bloody episodes, that prove how the threads of courage and
ferocity are inseparably blended in the woof and warp of Spanish
character.
Just above the town, on the hillside, is the ancient convent of San
Francisco, which contains over one hundred paintings more than two
centuries old. The old church of San Francisco, close at hand, dates
from a period, three hundred and seventy years ago, when Mexican history
often fades into fable. The approach is over a paved way, and through a
road bordered by a double row of old trees, which form a gothic
perspective of greenery. The convent now serves in part for the purpose
of a military barrack, before which stand a few small cannon so
diminutive as to have the appearance of toys. A few soldiers lounged
lazily about, and some were asleep upon a bench. Probably they were
doing guard duty after the Mexican style. On the hillside above the
church of San Francisco is a modern church, and beyond it a Campo Santo.
This gray old church, the oldest in Mexico, is certainly very
interesting in its belongings, carrying us in imagination far into the
dim past. "The earliest and longest have still the mastery over us,"
says George Eliot. This was the first church erected by the Spaniards in
Mexico, and was in constant use by Cortez, who, notwithstanding his
heartless cruelty, his unscrupulous and murderous deeds, his gross
selfishness, faithlessness, and ambition, was still a devout Catholic,
never omitting the most minute observances of church ceremonies, and
always accompanying his most questionable deeds with the cant phrases of
religion. The roof of the church of San Francisco is a curiosity in
itself, being upheld by elaborately carved cedar beams, which were
imported from Spain. In a side chapel is preserved the original pulpit
from which the Christian religion according to the tenets of the Church
of Rome was first preached in the New World, and also the stone font in
which the native Tlaxcalan chiefs were baptized. The defacing finger of
Time is visible on all perishable articles. One or two of the mediaeval
paintings were scarcely more than tattered, drooping canvas, presenting
here and there a shadowy human figure or a clouded emblem. We were shown
a series of religions vestments, said to have been worn by the first
officiating priests in this ancient church; but we instantly realized
that they could not be so old, for such articles would long ago have
become too frail to hold together, whereas these were exposed upon an
open table, and were freely handled by any one who chose to do so. They
were of a light, thin texture, silk and satin, and elaborately trimmed
with gold and silver lace.
One is shocked on observing the roughly carved figures of bleeding
saints and martyrs, with crucifixion scenes and mangled bodies,
suspended from the walls of the church. "The repulsive and ghostly
images, paintings, and mechanical contrivances, common in the small
towns and villages, are mostly banished from the capital and other large
cities," says Hon. John H. Rice, in "Mexico, Our Neighbor," "in
obedience to the demands of a more decent civilization. They are used,
however, where most practicable (representing the crucifixion and
diverse rites and ceremonies of the church), to hold in awe and
superstitious thralldom the weak and untutored minds of the degenerated
children of the republic; and so to extort from them the last dregs of
their poverty-stricken purses."
The prevailing style of this Tlaxcalan church, as well as that of the
churches generally which we visited throughout the country, is of the
Spanish Renaissance. Puebla, Guadalajara, and the city of Mexico contain
cathedrals which will compare favorably even with those of continental
Spain, where the most elaborate and costly religious edifices in the
world are to be seen to-day. The plans of all these churches came
originally from Spain, and builders from thence superintended their
erection. The parish church of Tlaxcala, situated on a street leading
from the plaza, has a curious facade of stucco, brick, and blue glazed
tiles. In this edifice was seen an interesting picture representing the
baptism of the Tlaxcalan chiefs already referred to. This was an event
which was of local importance, perhaps, at the time, but which is
without a shadow of interest to-day, though it is duly emphasized and
repeated by the guides. The dome of the church was destroyed by an
earthquake so late as 1864. Near this church are the ruins of a chapel,
the facade of which is still standing, and on which are displayed the
royal arms of Spain.
Regarding the dwellings of the poorer classes of this region, as well as
of the country generally, they are of the most miserable character,
wanting in nearly all the requirements of health and comfort. They
consist of adobe-built cabins, wherein the people live, eat, and sleep
upon the bare ground, without light or ventilation, except that which
comes in through the open door, and where drainage of any sort is not
even thought of. Mud cabins on the bogs of Ireland are not poorer places
to live in. In the warmer regions, the common people live in mere huts
of cane, consisting of a few poles covered with dry plantain leaves,
palms, or cornstalks, made into a thatch by braiding and twining them
together. A mat woven of dried husks and laid upon the ground forms the
only bed. Neither chairs, tables, nor benches are seen in these
cabins,--they are unknown luxuries. In the more tropical regions of the
country, the cabins have no sides, the thatched roof coming down to near
the ground, thus forming only a screen from the rain during the season
of the year when it falls. A sort of instinct causes the common people
of the tropics to seek some sort of shelter from the stars when they
sleep; but half the Indian population of Mexico do not see the inside
even of an adobe cabin from one year's end to another. The universal
food depended upon to support life, besides the wild fruits, is the
preparation of corn called tortillas, and a few vegetable roots. The
grain is pulverized by hand between two stones, made into a paste or
dough, and eaten half baked in thin cakes. We are, of course, speaking
of the poor Indian people, but they form probably two thirds of the
population, especially in the rural districts. These natives make their
own fermented liquor. On the coast it is what they call palm wine, and
rum from sugar-cane; on the table-land, it is pulque, from the maguey
plant,--their delight and their curse. After the maguey has yielded its
sap to the last quart, and begins to wilt, there appears in the stalk a
nest of white caterpillars, which the Indians consider to be a great
luxury, and which they eat with avidity, besides which the roots of the
exhausted plant are boiled and eaten, possessing considerable nutritive
properties. The native people of New Zealand exhibit a similar appetite.
When the trunks of the tall kauri trees, which have been uprooted by
storms, have lain so long upon the moist ground that they begin to
decay, a large worm breeds in the decomposing wood; these, when arrived
at maturity, are eagerly grubbed for and devoured by the Maoris. Our
ideas of what constitutes proper food for human beings are governed by
very arbitrary rules. The Chinese consume dogs, cats, and rats; the
Japanese and Africans are fond of monkey flesh; the Parisians often eat
horse-meat from choice; while some of the South Sea Islanders have still
an appetite for human flesh. The London gourmand revels in snails, and
the New Yorker demands frogs upon his bill of fare. Is the New Zealander
so very exceptional in his fancy for wood-worms? Green goose and broiled
chicken are among the delicacies of our table, and yet there is
scarcely any sort of foul garbage which they will not consume as food.
Why is their flesh considered more delicate than any other?
The better dwellings of Tlaxcala are nearly all adobe houses, standing
in a rough, hilly region on the eastern slope of the mountains which
inclose the valley. It is difficult to conjecture what possible industry
keeps the place alive, for, though interesting to the thoughtful
traveler and the scientist, it has no visible business activity beyond
the exhibition of the antiquities to which we have referred, but seems
to smoulder in a sort of moss-grown, picturesque decay. The seats of the
old, half-forgotten, and neglected plaza were occupied by groups of idle
natives, who regarded us with a dull, sleepy interest. A few laden
burros passed through the streets bearing charcoal, wood, or bags of
grain, and others with high panniers of straw lashed in compact form.
They carried their noses close to the ground, picking up any edible
object--banana skins, orange peel, bits of garbage, and similar scraps.
This small creature which carries such enormous loads seems to eat
anything, no matter how little nutriment it contains, and, strange to
say, keeps in good flesh. The single candy shop under the arches beside
the plaza did a lively business with our party while we remained, its
members having suddenly developed a marvelous appetite for dulces.
Bright-eyed boys and girls, with a paucity of clothing and any amount of
good looks, met us at each turn with hands extended, and a cry of
"Centavo, centavo!"
It was to Tlaxcala that Cortez and his small band of followers retreated
when the natives of the valley of Mexico rose and in desperation drove
him from their midst. Here, after some months devoted to recuperation
and being joined by reinforcements from Cuba, he prepared to lay siege
once more to the Aztec capital. Part of this preparation consisted in
building a number of small, flat-bottomed boats in pieces, so that they
could be transported over a mountainous district, and put together on
the shore of Lake Texcoco, thus enabling him to complete the investment
of the water-begirt city. It sounds ludicrous in our times to read of
the force with which the invading Spaniards laid siege to a nation's
capital. His "army" consisted of forty cavalrymen, eighty arquebusiers
and cross-bowmen, and four hundred and fifty foot-soldiers, armed with
swords and lances, to which is to be added a train of nine small cannon,
about the size of those which are carried by our racing yachts of to-day
for the purpose of firing salutes. Of course he had a crowd of
Tlaxcalans with him, the number of which is variously stated, but who
could not be of much actual use. More than one of these veracious
Spanish historians states the number to have been one hundred and twenty
thousand! So large a body of men would have been a hindrance, not a
help, in the undertaking. Cortez neither had nor could he command a
commissariat suitable for such an army, and it must be remembered that
the siege lasted for months. "Whoever has had occasion to consult the
ancient chronicles of Spain," says Prescott, "in relation to its wars
with the infidels, whether Arab or American, will place little
confidence in numbers." We all know how a French imperial bulletin can
lie, but Spanish records are gigantic falsifications in comparison. This
siege lasted for over six months, and finally, on August 13, 1521,
Cortez entered the city in triumph, hoping to enrich himself with
immense spoils; but nearly all valuables, including those of the royal
treasury, had been cast into the lake and thus permanently lost, rather
than permit the avaricious Spaniards to possess them. Cortez's final
success of this invasion caused it to be called a "holy war," under the
patronage of the church! Had he failed, he would have been stigmatized
as a filibuster.
A brief visit was paid to the palace once occupied by Cortez, and now
the residence of the highest city official. It has been so modernized
that nothing was found especially interesting within the walls. The hot
sun of midday made the shade of the ancient trees on the plaza
particularly grateful, and the play of the fountain was at least
suggestive of coolness. Sitting on one of the long stone benches, we
mused as to the scenes which must have taken place upon this spot nearly
four hundred years ago, and watched the tri-colored flags of Mexico
floating gayly over the two palaces. In the mean time, the swarthy,
half-clad natives, regarded curiously and in silence the pale-faced
visitors to their quaint old town, until, by-and-by, we started on our
return to Puebla by tramway, stopping now and then to gather some
tempting wild flowers, or to purchase a bit of native pottery, which
was so like old Egyptian patterns that it would not have looked out of
place in Cairo or Alexandria.
Occasionally, in this section and eastward, towards Vera Cruz, as we
stop at a railway station, a squad of rural police, sometimes mounted,
sometimes on foot, draw up in line and salute the train. They are
usually clad in buff leather uniforms, with a red sash about their
waists, but sometimes are dressed in homespun, light gray woolen cloth,
covered with many buttons. They remind one of the Canadian mounted
police, who guard the frontier; a body of men designed to keep the
Indians in awe, and to perform semi-military and police duty. It is a
fact that most of these men were formerly banditti, who find that
occupation under the government pays them much better, and that it is
also safer, since the present energetic officials are in the habit of
shooting highwaymen at sight, without regard to judge or jury.