Jalapa.--A Health Resort.--Birds, Flowers, and Fruits.--Cerro Gordo.--
Cathedral.--Earthquakes.--Local Characteristics.--Vanilla.--Ancient
Ruins.--Tortillas.--Blondes in a City of Brunettes.--Curiosities of
Mexican Courtship.--Caged Singing Birds.--Banditti Outwitted.--
Socialistic Indians.--Traces of a Lost City.--Guadalajara.--On the
Mexican Plateau.--A Progressive Capital.--Fine Modern Buildings.--
The Cathedral.--Native Artists.--A Noble Institution.--Amusements.
--San Pedro.--Evening in the Plaza.--A Ludicrous Carnival.--Judas
Day.
Jalapa, signifying "the place of water and land,"--pronounced
Halapa,--is situated about sixty miles north-northwest of Vera Cruz, and
is considered to be the sanitarium of the latter city, whither many of
the families who are able to do so resort during the sickly season. Not
a few of the prosperous merchants maintain dwellings in both cities. Its
situation insures salubrity, as it is more than four thousand feet
higher than the seacoast. The yellow fever may terrorize the lowlands
and blockade the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, as it surely does at
certain seasons of the year, from Yucatan to Vera Cruz, but the
atmosphere of the highlands, commencing at Jalapa on the north and
Orizaba on the south, is, as a rule, full of life-invigorating
properties. We do not mean to say that these places are absolutely free
from yellow fever and miasmatic illness, but they are so far superior
to Vera Cruz in this respect as to be considered health-resorts for the
people on the shores of the Gulf. The route to Jalapa from the coast
passes through the old national road by the way of Cerro Gordo. The
hamlet bearing this name, where General Scott outflanked and defeated
Santa Anna, April 18, 1847, consists of a few mud cabins in a
tumble-down condition. It has become a memorable spot, but save its
historical association is possessed of no attractions. It is not a
populous district: there are few haciendas met with, and fewer hamlets,
but the scenery is very grand, and the vegetation is characterized by
all the luxuriance of the tropics. Birds and flowers abound, and wild
fruits are so plenty that they ripen and decay undisturbed by the hands
of the natives. Nature is over-bountiful, over-prolific. There is no
sere and yellow leaf here--fruits and flowers are perennial. If a leaf
falls, another springs into life on the vacant stem. If fruit is
plucked, a blossom quickly appears and another cluster ripens.
Of birds distinguished for beauty of plumage and sweetness of song there
are, according to Clavigero, between fifty and sixty different species.
Of those suitable for food there are over seventy sorts in the republic,
according to the same authority. The rage for brilliant-colored feathers
with which to decorate the bonnets of fashionable ladies in American
cities has led to great destruction among tropical birds of both Mexico
and South America. Here they have also been always in demand for the
purpose of producing what is termed feather pictures, as elsewhere
described in these pages.
The road is very tortuous, winding up long hills and down steep gulches,
with here and there a rude, significant wooden cross, held in place by a
little mound of stones, raised above the burial-place of some murdered
man. This, it seems, is a conscientious service always rendered in
Mexico by any one who is the first to discover such a body. Each native
who afterwards passes the spot adds a small store to the pile, and
kneeling, utters a brief prayer in behalf of the dead man's soul.
Jalapa has a permanent population of some fourteen thousand, which is
considerably increased at certain seasons of the year. It contains a
large, well-appointed cathedral, with a number of other Catholic
churches. Cortez and his followers covered the land with cathedrals and
demi-cathedrals, but the disestablishment of the church and the general
confiscation of ecclesiastical property has rendered it impossible to
sustain them all, together with the crowds of officiating priests. The
consequence is that here, as elsewhere in the republic, many are
crumbling into decay, and when an erratic earthquake, which is no
respecter of sacred buildings, tumbles over some high-reaching dome or
tower, or twists a facade out of plumb, it is left to remain in that
condition, and soon becomes a partial ruin. We saw several thus
dilapidated in different sections of the country. Jalapa enjoys a
commanding situation at the base of the Cofre de Perote, on undulating
ground on the slope of the so-called hill of Macuiltepec; many of the
streets are therefore very steep, and the scenery, which is really
beautiful, is quite Alpine in character.
The low stone houses are perched on the hillsides, and the streets are
irregular. This neighborhood is said to produce the prettiest women and
the loveliest flowers to be found in all Mexico, and it is certain that
in its gardens may be gathered the fruits and flowers of every zone.
Among other special products of this vicinity is the aromatic vanilla
plant, which is indigenous here and grows in wild abundance in the
forests, proving a great source of income to the industrious native
gatherers. The plant requires only shade and moisture. The peculiar soil
and climate do the rest. The harvest is gathered in March and April. The
flowers of the vanilla are of a greenish yellow, touched here and there
with white. It has a climbing stalk. The pods grow in pairs and are
about as large round as one's little finger, and six inches long, though
they vary, and the longer they are the greater is considered their
value. These are green at first, gradually turning to yellow, and then
to brown, as they become fully ripe. They are carefully dried in the
sun, being touched during the process with palm oil, which gives them a
soft, glossy effect when they reach the consumers' hands. Chocolate
perfumed with vanilla was a Mexican dish which Montezuma placed before
Cortez. The quantity shipped from Jalapa is very considerable in the
aggregate, and proves an important source of revenue. We are told that
the vanilla was successfully cultivated here by the Totonacs, ancient
dwellers in this region, the aromatic product being highly appreciated
by the Sybaritic Montezuma and the Aztec nobles generally, and
commanding even in those days a liberal price. Humboldt speaks of "the
vanilla, whose odoriferous fruit is used as a perfume, growing in the
ever-green forests of Papantla." Here also are found ruins left by some
forgotten race who must have reached to a certain degree of high
civilization, judging by these interesting remains. Of this land, lying
far to the south of the Aztec territory, and of its people, even
tradition has nothing to reveal to us. But its ruins are presumed to be
contemporary with those better known in Yucatan, which they resemble in
many important particulars. One other notable plant grows wild
hereabouts, less pleasing to the senses, but well known as an important
drug in our medical practice, namely, jalap, which takes its name from
the locality, or the place is named after the plant.
The atmosphere of Jalapa is always humid, and the city is often
overshadowed by clouds which come up from the Gulf of Mexico, heavy with
moisture to be precipitated in the form of rain. A sort of "drizzling"
prevails most of the time, like that which one encounters at Bergen, in
Norway, or at Sitka, Alaska. In the former place it is said to rain
eight days in the week.
The old convent of San Francisco, vast in extent and once equally so in
influence, is an object of considerable interest, situated in the centre
of the town. It is believed to have been erected by Cortez, and was once
occupied by a powerful community of Franciscans. This was also the
birthplace of General Santa Anna, the most notorious of Mexico's
soldiers of fortune, and whose now neglected hacienda is pointed out to
the visitor. In his checkered career Santa Anna was constantly falling
from position, but this was only the prelude to his rising again and to
a greater elevation, from which he was sure to be ignominiously hurled.
Here the author had a first taste of the universal tortilla, which is to
the people of Mexico what macaroni is to the lazzaroni of Naples, or
bread to a New Englander. It is made from Indian corn, as already
intimated, not ground in a mill to the condition of meal, but after
being soaked in the kernel and softened by potash, it is rolled between
two stones, and water being added a paste or dough is formed, which is
manipulated between the palms of the hands to a thin flat cake and baked
over a charcoal fire in an earthen brazier. It is very palatable and
nutritious to a hungry person. Those who can afford to do so often mix
some appetizing ingredient with the simple cakes, such as sweets,
peppers, or chopped meats. The scores of Indian women who come to market
to offer their grain, baskets, fruits, vegetables, and flowers for sale,
are wrapped in rebosas of various colors, but are barefooted,
bareheaded, and with no covering on their arms or legs, forming striking
and characteristic groups.
Though the natives go about during the day only half clad, both men and
women exposing a large portion of the bare body to the atmosphere, it
was observed that as soon as the evening shadows fell, both sexes
protected their necks and shoulders with wraps; the men winding their
woolen serapes even over the lower part of their faces, and the women
covering theirs with the universal rebosa. The change of temperature
soon after sunset and in the early mornings, as compared with the rest
of the day, is very decided throughout Mexico. Foreigners who observe
these native precautions and follow them avoid taking colds, while
others, more heedless, are liable to pay the penalty.
One peculiarity was observed at Jalapa. While most of the Mexican women
are quite dark-hued, especially those from the rural districts and of
mixed blood, that is of Indian and Spanish descent, yet a large number
of those one meets in Jalapa are decided blondes, having light hair with
blue eyes, and possessing as blooming complexions as the orchids which
so much abound in this district.
There is a rage for caged singing birds in the better class of houses, a
perfect flood of melody floating out of open windows and patios. The
birds are brilliant both in plumage and in song, a combination not
always found in the low latitudes. As a rule, south of the equator, the
gaudily-plumed birds please the eye, and the plain ones delight the ear.
The Mexican parrots are the most voluble to be found this side of
southern Africa. It seems that there are conventional rules relating to
bird-fancying here; the middle and lower classes make pets of the parrot
tribe, while the more pretentious people prefer mocking-birds,
canaries, and the favorite little clarin. Boys walk about the streets of
the national capital with a species of small paroquet for sale, trained
to run all over the owner's arms, neck, and fingers, showing no
inclination to seek liberty by flight. A lady stopping at the Iturbide
purchased a bird of many colors, marvelous to look at, which she had
been assured by the itinerant vender would sing gloriously as soon as it
became acquainted with its new home. It was sufficiently curious,
however, because of its remarkably brilliant and queerly disposed
colors. After petting it for a few days the new mistress gave the bird a
warm bath, out of which the little fellow came all of one hue, namely a
dark ash color. The deceitful bird merchant had ingeniously painted him
from the crown of his head to the very tip of his tail feathers!
Like all these Spanish cities, the windows of the dwellings are secured
by a screen of iron bars, and many fronts where the house is of two
stories in height have also delightful little balconies, answering a
Romeo and Juliet purpose, all courtship being conducted here in a
surreptitious manner. A Mexican never goes about a courtship whereby he
hopes to win a wife in an open, straightforward manner. On the contrary,
he forms cunning schemes for meeting his fair inamorata, and employs
ingenious subterfuges to gain a stolen interview. He tells his passion
not in words, but with profound sighs and significant glances, as he
passes her flower-decked balcony, while she, although perfectly
understanding his pantomime, assumes the most profound innocence and
even indifference. This fires the suitor's ardor; he bows sadly when
passing her balcony, with his right hand pressed vehemently upon his
left breast, where a youthful lover's heart is popularly supposed to be
located. Finally, after a good deal of pretentious pantomime, the fair
senorita appears to realize the purport of all this wooing, and seems
gradually to yield to his silent yet expressive importunities. There is
also a language of the fan, of flowers, of the fingers, all of which are
pressed into the service of the amorous couple. We were shown a small
pocket manual printed in Spanish and sold in the stores and upon the
streets, containing a printed code of the significance of certain
flowers, a "dumb alphabet" for the fingers, and the meaning of the
several motions of the ever-ready fan which, like a gaudy butterfly,
flits before the face of beauty. There is the rapid flirt which
signifies scorn, another motion is the graceful wave of confidence, an
abrupt closing of the fan indicates vexation, and the striking of it
into the palm of the hand expresses anger. The gradual opening of its
folds intimates reluctant forgiveness, and so on. In short, the fan can
be more eloquent than words, if in the hands of a Mexican senorita,
stimulated by the watchful eyes and the adoration of an ardent Romeo.
But this is only preliminary. All parents are presumed to be implacably
and absolutely opposed to all lovers' wishes, and great diplomacy is
consequently required. This ludicrous game often continues for a
twelvemonth before anything is consummated. The charm of the whole
affair with these people consists in its secrecy and difficulties either
real or assumed. Lydia Languish cared nothing for Beverly when all
obstacles to their union vanished; opposition is the spice of love.
A pleasant story is told of the attractiveness of Jalapa. It seems that
an old traveler came here to pass a day, but was so fascinated with the
beauty of the place and its surroundings, the fragrance of its flowers,
the beauty of its women, and the salubrity of the climate, that he never
left it to the day of his death. Every nook and corner has its charming
bit of verdure, its plot of flowers, its broad green banana leaves
overhanging some low, white wall, or a tall palm with its plume-like top
overshadowing a dainty balcony. One often hears Jalapa spoken of among
the Mexicans as a bit of heaven dropped on earth.
The great shame and disgrace of Mexico has been the prevalence of
brigandage in the several states of the republic, and even in the
immediate environs of the national capital. All the efforts of the
government for years have proved ineffectual to suppress this
lawlessness until very lately, when, for reasons not very clear to a
stranger, it has seemed gradually to subside. Brigandage has not only
been a crying shame to the country, but has paralyzed business, kept
visitors away from Mexico, and caused her to lose her national credit
both in Europe and America. People will not invest money in great
enterprises in regions where the persons of their agents are not safe,
and where robbery and kidnapping are every-day occurrences. An
intelligent native attempted to convince the author that these
highwaymen were not composed of native Indians, half-breeds, or
Spaniards, but that they were mostly made up from Italians and other
Europeans who had been induced to leave their own country for their
country's good. Our credulity was not, however, equal to this solution.
Brigandage was long chronic here, and the brigands were Mexicans.
When the French army was here, it is said that General Bazaine had
occasion to be in the city at an opportune moment. Having heard by some
chance that the brigands had been very troublesome hereabouts, and also
that they would probably stop the next mail coach on its way to Vera
Cruz, he resolved to give these outlaws a lesson which they would not
soon forget. When the expected coach arrived, and while the mules were
replaced by fresh ones, the general ordered the passengers, some of whom
were ladies, to remain in the hotel, while he put ten of his most daring
Zouaves inside the coach to fill their places. These men were specially
instructed, and half of them were disguised as women, the others having
their uniforms covered from sight. The driver was sworn to secrecy under
a threat of being shot if he disobeyed orders, and was directed to go on
his way as usual. By-and-by, when the coach had arrived at a certain
point, the driver suddenly drew up his horses, for he saw a row of
muskets in the hands of a dozen men ranged across the road, pointing at
him, and heard the usual order to stop. A moment later the leader of
these men came to the door of the coach, where he saw, apparently, a
lady, and in a peremptory voice ordered the passengers to get out upon
the roadway. The door being thrown open, the pseudo woman who sat next
to it was aided to descend to the ground by the leader of the brigands
on one side and his lieutenant on the other. At the instant this
individual alighted, two simultaneous pistol-shots were heard. The
passenger standing between the two robbers had pressed the triggers of
two pistols, held one in his right and one in left hand, quite
unobserved. The leading brigand together with his lieutenant fell dead
upon the road. In the mean time the opposite door of the coach had been
quickly opened, whence the other nine Zouaves, trained athletes, sprang
like cats to the ground, each one selecting his foe among the robbers,
who, on their part, were taken so completely by surprise that they fired
their muskets at random, while the Zouaves with their keen sword
bayonets literally chopped them to pieces. There were fourteen of these
gentlemen of the road, only one of whom escaped alive, and he was so
severely wounded that he bled to death in a native hut among the hills.
There was no more brigandage, as the reader may well imagine, in the
vicinity where the French troops were stationed.
A small and rather peculiar party of Indians was observed here, some
special occasion having lured them from their agricultural hamlet. They
were not attached to any hacienda, but lived in a primitive manner,
illustrating a communistic idea, a practice, it appears, which is not
uncommon among this class in some parts of the country. Their cabins
are of adobe. Indeed, wooden buildings are almost unknown, wood being
seldom used, even in the cities, for inside finish. These Indians
cultivate the land in common, and when the crop is gathered, it is
divided after recognized laws of their own. Irrigation is the sole means
of fertilizing, and it seems to be all the soil requires. They plough
with oxen, using a crooked stick, which method, several times alluded
to, is not so very surprising when we remember that the Egyptian fellah
uses a similar instrument to-day, and irrigates the soil by means of
buckets worked by hand. The women of the group of whom we are speaking
were bareheaded, and wore their long, straight, black hair in braids
hanging down over their naked shoulders, their arms being bare, and also
their legs to the knee. A loose cotton tunic and short petticoat formed
their dress. The men wore straw hats with tall crowns, their broad brims
throwing their swarthy faces into deep shadow. Unbleached cotton shirts
and drawers of the same reaching to the knees completed the costume.
Some wore leather sandals, but most were barefooted. There were a few
children among them, all slung to the mothers' backs, and quite naked.
Between the lofty peak of Orizaba and the Cofre de Perote, there exists
many traces of a very numerous native population, who must have occupied
the country long previous to the advent of the Spanish conquerors. Not
even tradition tells us anything about this locality, which is
abundantly supplied with water, is fertile to an extraordinary degree,
and possesses a healthy climate. That extensive and intelligent
cultivation of the soil was carried on here at some period of the past
is clearly shown by numberless remains. The fact that oak trees four
feet in diameter are found growing over the stone foundations of ruined
dwellings proves that many centuries have passed since the population
disappeared. The remains of the dwellings are all of stone laid without
mortar, arranged in streets, or in groups. A series of pyramids of stone
are also found here, the largest of which is over fifty feet in height,
and the smallest not over ten or twelve feet, the last seeming to have
been designed for tombs. Several of these have been opened and found to
contain skeletons and elaborately ornamented burial urns. The locality
referred to is the eastern slope of the sierra towards the coast between
Orizaba and Jalapa.
Our next objective point is the city of Mexico, to reach which from
Jalapa we return to Vera Cruz, though not necessarily, taking the
railway from the port through Orizaba and Puebla. As we have been over
this route with the reader, let us pass on to places which we have not
yet spoken of. At the national capital we once more take passage on the
Mexican Central Railway north-northwest to Guadalajara, the capital of
the State of Jalisco. This growing and prosperous city is reached by a
branch road from Irapuato, being that which is designed ultimately to
reach the Pacific at San Blas. One hundred and sixty miles of this
branch road is completed. Guadalajara is three hundred and eighty miles
from the city of Mexico, situated in a pleasant valley six thousand
feet above the sea, with a population of one hundred thousand, stating
it in round numbers. It will be remembered that we are now on what is
called the Mexican plateau. The Indian name of the valley is Alemaxac.
As to temperature, we found that the annual mean was 70 deg. Fahr., but our
thermometer gave us 90 deg. Fahr. nearly all the time during our stay, and
even at midnight it did not fall below 82 deg.. A small river, San Juan de
Dios, runs through the town about its middle, in a charmingly crooked
fashion. In coming hither we pass through the valley of the Rio Lerma,
one of the best developed regions as regards agriculture in the entire
republic. The route takes us through some populous towns and many
interesting villages, also near to the famous Lake Chapala, the largest
body of water in Mexico, sixty miles long and over fifteen in width.
Guadalajara is one of the most progressive cities in the country, and is
the second in point of population, supporting an admirable school system
worthy of all commendation. It has numerous public squares, besides the
Plaza Mayor and a fine alameda. The plaza is about three hundred feet
long and of nearly the same width, one side occupied by the cathedral,
another by the state buildings, and on the two remaining sides is a line
of arches in which are some of the most attractive stores of the town. A
large number of the public buildings are of modern construction,
including the governor's palace, the municipal palace, the mint, and
other edifices, all fronting, as usual, on the Plaza Mayor. The only
Academy of Fine Arts in the country, outside of the city of Mexico, is
to be found here, and it is in a highly flourishing condition, a large
local interest being pledged to its support. It is somewhat difficult to
decide in one's own mind which of the two cities, Puebla or Guadalajara,
should rank next to the city of Mexico in wealth, general interest, and
commercial importance. Both are progressive capitals, remarkably so for
this country.
The grand cathedral was finished in 1618, having a noble facade, a
graceful dome, and two lofty towers partly covered with enameled tiles.
The front is richly carved, and ornamented by fluted pillars. The
interior of the dome is as finely frescoed as the famous church of
Burgos, in Spain, or that of the church of St. John, in the island of
Malta. Of this latter church it strongly reminded us. The great altar is
finished in white and gold. A narrow gallery of gilded metal runs around
the entire building on a level with the capitals of the pillars which
support the roof. It seems that during religious services here a few
years ago, two of the organists were struck by lightning while playing
and instantly killed. The towers of the cathedral show some evidence of
having been disturbed by an earthquake, which occurred in 1818. There
are thirty churches in all in Guadalajara, and, like the other public
buildings, they are unusually fine.
This is quite an ancient city, having been founded in 1541.
Manufacturing is carried on to a considerable extent; among the articles
produced are fine pottery, cotton cloth, silk, rebosas, musical
instruments, and leather goods. The native Indian race hereabouts, and,
indeed, in places further south, are great adepts, as already explained,
in the manufacture of antiquities. We saw here some remarkably fine
examples of pottery, designed and finished by native artists who had
never enjoyed an hour's instruction. It was the result of an inborn
artistic taste. The lace-like drawn-work produced by the Indian women
from fine linen rivals the best work of the kind which comes from South
America, where the natives have long been famous for fine work in this
special line.
The Hospicio San Miguel de Belen is a very comprehensive and
well-conducted establishment, containing a hospital proper, with male
and female wards, a lunatic asylum, and a primary school. Other
evidences of keeping pace with the times were seen in the presence of
the telephone, electric lights, and a good system of tramways. The
environs of the city are justly famous for many beautiful gardens and a
grand paseo shaded by noble trees, mostly elms, with broad, spreading
limbs and of great age. The Campo Santo is not unlike that at Vera Cruz,
the bodies being deposited in niches built in the thick walls about the
grounds. Some of the monumental tombs are of a very impressive and
beautiful character.
Another remarkable and very interesting institution of this city is the
Hospicio de Guadalajara, situated on the eastern side of the small
stream which flows through the town. It is approached by a wide,
handsome avenue lined with orange-trees. The edifice covers eight
acres, being constructed about numerous open areas which are utilized as
gardens, devoted to raising flowers and fruits, each also ornamented by
a cheerful fountain. There are over twenty of these courts within the
grounds, from which broad, high corridors open, which traverse the
several departments of the institution. Mangoes, oranges, and bananas
thrive on the trees in these patios, and such an abundance of red and
white roses, in such mammoth sizes, we have rarely seen. The sister who
acted as our guide through the spacious edifice insisted upon plucking
them freely and presenting them to the ladies of the party. There is a
spacious and fine chapel within the group of buildings, as capacious as
an ordinary church. Its lofty dome is beautifully frescoed, and many
fine oil paintings adorn the walls. Hundreds of children, ranging from
babyhood to twelve years, were seen in the various departments, where
everything was scrupulously neat and clean. This admirable Hospicio is
used as an asylum for foundlings, a home for the blind, and also for the
deaf and dumb, besides which there is here provided a home for the
infirm who are unable to support themselves. This very worthy
institution presents an imposing appearance, with its lofty dome and
pillared portico facing the broad, tree-lined avenue which leads up to
its spacious doors.
There is a bull-ring and two theatres here. The favorite promenade is
the paseo, which runs for over a mile within the city proper,
terminating at the alameda. Gambling, next to the bull-fight, is the
average Mexican's delight, and just outside the thoroughfare of the
alameda all sorts of games of chance prevail. As government legalizes
the lottery-ticket business, it opens the door for much gambling. Ten
per cent, of the gross receipts of all lottery enterprises goes into the
national treasury. Even blind men were seen selling lottery tickets, and
when it was suggested that they were liable to be cheated by
unscrupulous purchasers, the reply was that such an act would surely
bring ill luck, and no ticket bought under such circumstances could
possibly draw a prize! This was repeated to us as being the sentiment
governing the throng of humble purchasers. The Mexicans of the lower
class are very superstitious, and will often pay a young and innocent
child a trifle to select a ticket for them, believing that good luck may
thus be secured.
A short trip by tramway will take the traveler to the suburb of San
Pedro, where the native Indians produce a species of pottery which is
both curious and artistic, each one working independently in his adobe
cabin. One often detects an article which genius alone could originate
and produce. The work is done solely by hand, the workmen employing only
the most primitive methods. Some of the vases and jars are identical
with those one finds in Egypt, finely glazed, and enameled in colors
which are burned in by the maker. These wares are so well appreciated by
strangers that the peons realize good prices for their skill; and
travelers take home with them mementoes worthy of being placed in the
best collections of pottery.
On the evening of Good Friday the spacious plaza of Guadalajara was
thronged with the citizens, men and women, peons as well as the better
classes, the former scrupulously keeping within certain limits, while
the ladies and gentlemen promenaded upon the broad path encircling the
plaza, beneath the shade of orange-trees and amid a rose-scented
atmosphere. The moon was near its full, but the electric lamps rivaled
its serene brilliancy, and the stars were outshone. When the hands on
the illumined clock over the governor's palace pointed to half-past
eight, the military band, placed in the central pagoda, with soldierly
promptness struck up a grand and elaborate anthem. The thirty performers
were skillful musicians, and the effect was admirable. They were all
swarthy natives, descendants of the Aztecs, but fully able to compete
with the average French, German, or American musicians. The throng
passed and repassed each other on the gayly lighted paths, or seated
themselves in a broad circle about the plaza. Merry children, nicely
dressed, romped hither and thither, now and again coming up pleasantly
to greet the strangers, and making the most of the few words of English
at their command, while the big fountain kept up its delightfully-cooling
notes, heard in the intervals of the music. There were thousands of
natives and foreigners promenading hither and thither about the great
square and in the plaza, forming a gay and impressive scene until nearly
midnight. There is a holiday gayety about life in this southern clime
which is quite infectious.
The fascination of the scene; the delights of a land of perpetual
sunshine; the charming surface aspect of everything; the rank, luxuriant
vegetation; the perfume of flowers mingling with the delightful music
that floated upon the air in such an hour as we have described,--all
these did not blind the moral sense, though for the moment the physical
powers were led captive. One pauses to review the aimless lives of these
indolent but beautiful women, and the useless career of the men who form
the upper class. It is natural to contrast the lives of such with that
of the abject poor, the half-starved, half-naked masses who hung about
the outer lines of the assembled throng on the plaza; men and women
living a mere animal existence, and yet who represented such grand and
noble possibilities. Ah! the puzzle of it all! Who can solve the riddle?
Lazarus and Dives jostle each other not alone in Guadalajara, but all
over the world.
In this city, on the Saturday following Good Friday, occurred what is
here termed "Judas Iscariot Day," when the concentrated vengeance of the
Christian world is supposed to be visited upon the vile betrayer of his
Master. The whole object of the occasion is to heap contumely, derision,
and dishonor upon the name of Judas. Extensive preparations are made a
week or more before the special day. The town presented an appearance
similar to the Fourth of July in the United States. The streets were
full of temporary booths, and all the inhabitants were out of doors.
Figures twelve or fifteen inches long, made of paper, rags, or other
combustible material, in various colors, representing Judas, and stuffed
with firecrackers and powder, were sold to men and boys, to be fired at
the proper time. Some of these figures were of life size, containing
rockets and blue lights. Judas was represented with folded hands, arms
akimbo, with legs in a running posture, and, in short, in every
conceivable attitude. Some of the larger figures bore mottoes about
their necks in Spanish, such as "I am a scion of the Devil;" another, "I
am about to die for my treachery;" and a third, "I have no friends, and
deserve none," "Let me give up the ghost," etc. Hundreds of these toy
figures were tied to a rope, and hung across the thoroughfares at the
height of the second story, reaching from one balcony to another. Small
pyramids were raised for them and of them in the open squares. People
carried hoops of Judases elevated on the top of a long pole. Some men
had a single large figure with the conventional Judas face dressed in
harlequin colors. Everybody on the streets had at least one toy Judas,
and some had a dozen.
Finally, at ten o'clock on the forenoon of Judas day, the great bell of
the cathedral sounds, a score of other church bells follow suit, and the
matches are applied to the fuses with which each emblematic figure is
supplied. Young Mexico is almost crazed. Old Mexico approves and
participates. Everybody is elated to the highest point. Sidewalks and
balconies are crowded with both sexes. Senoras and senoritas are
hilarious, and little children clap their hands. The noise of the bells
is great, that of firecrackers, rockets, and fuses is greater, and the
shouts of the excited multitude who swarm about the Plaza Mayor is the
greatest of all. People become mentally intoxicated with intense
excitement. The large Judases in exploding go to pieces, first losing
one arm, then a leg, followed by another arm, until at last the body
bursts into fragments, at which one universal shout rends the air. The
small Judases keep up their snapping and explosions for an hour or more.
At last Judas is utterly demolished, literally done for. Then the bells
cease ringing, and the overwrought people gradually subside. The whole
is a queer, strange piece of ludicrous mockery, ending as a good-natured
annual frolic.