amusement of the people. Being one evening at the theatre, I had the
misfortune to lose my watch from my pocket, without being aware when
it was taken. It would have been useless for me to have thought of
looking around for it, as I stood in the midst of such a crowd that it
was almost an impossibility to move.
The accounts of this city which I had met with in books led me to
expect to find it placed in the midst of a lake, or surrounded by a
sheet of water. To satisfy myself with regard to the truth of this
representation, I mounted a horse, and made the circuit of the city,
visiting some villages that lay within a league of it. I found no
lake; but the land is low and flat. A canal is cut through it, for the
purpose of carrying off the water that descends from the mountains
upon the level surface, which has the appearance of having been
formerly covered with water. A mountain which is visible from the city,
presents a circular summit, one part of which is covered with snow
throughout the year: upon the other is the crater of a volcano, which
is continually sending up proof of the existence of an unceasing fire
within.
Early upon the first day of my arrival in this city, I waited upon Mr.
Butler, the American charge d'affairs.[129] After I had made myself
known to him he showed me a communication from President Jackson to the
President of this country, the purport of which was, to request the
latter to set at liberty some Americans, imprisoned upon the coast of
California. I then handed him the statement I had made according to the
advice {244} of Mr. Jones. He asked me many questions relative to the
losses I had sustained, which I answered, and then took my leave.
A number of coaches were to leave the city for Vera Cruz on the 18th
of June. My companions and myself took places in one of them. On the
15th I again called upon Mr. Butler to obtain a passport to Vera Cruz,
where I intended to embark for America. He took me to the palace of the
President, in order that I might get my passport. This circumstance
was agreeable to me, as I was desirous to see this person, of whom I
had heard so much. Upon arriving at the palace I found it a splendid
building, although much shattered by the balls discharged at it by
the former President Guerero, who is now flying from one place to
another with a few followers, spreading destruction to the extent of
his power. A soldier led me into the presence of the President.[130]
He was walking to and fro when I entered the room, apparently in
deep meditation. Several clerks were present, engaged in writing. He
received me politely, bowing as I advanced, and bade me sit down.
In answer to his inquiry what I wished of him? I told my errand. He
then asked me from what direction I came? I replied, from California.
California! said he, repeating the word with an air of interest. I
answered again, that I left that part of the country when I began my
present journey. You must have been there then, rejoined he, when the
late revolution took place, of which I have but a short time since
received information. I remarked, that I was upon the spot where it
occurred, and that I took my departure from the coast in the same
vessel that brought sixteen of the captives taken in the course of
its progress, and that I disembarked at St. Blas at the same time that
they were taken from the vessel. He resumed the conversation by saying,
you were probably one of the Americans who, I am told, assisted in
subduing the revolted party. I told him, he was correct in his opinion;
and by so doing I had had the good fortune to gain my liberty. His
countenance expressed surprise at the conclusion of my remark; and he
proceeded {245} to ask me, what meaning I had, in saying that I had
thus regained my own liberty? I then related my story; upon which he
said he had understood that General Echedio had acted contrary to the
laws, in several instances, and that, in consequence, he had ordered
him to Mexico to answer for his conduct.[131] I was surprised at the
condescension of the President in thus expressing to me any part of
his intentions with regard to such a person. I accounted for it by
supposing that he wished to have it generally understood, that he did
not approve of the unjust and cruel treatment which the Americans
had received. The president appeared to me to be a man of plain and
gentlemanly manners, possessing great talent. In this I express no more
than my individual opinion; to which I must add that I do not consider
myself competent to judge of such points, only for myself. He gave me a
passport, and I returned to Mr. Butler's office, who informed me that
he wished me to take a very fine horse to Vera Cruz, for the American
consul at that place. He said that I would find it pleasant to vary
my mode of travelling, by occasionally riding the horse. I readily
consented to his wish, requesting him to have the horse taken to the
place from which the coach would set off, early in the morning, when I
would take charge of it. I now took leave of Mr. Butler and proceeded
to my lodgings.
I found both my companions busily engaged in packing, and arranging
for departure. I immediately entered upon the same employment. I had
two trunks; one I filled with such articles as I should require upon
my journey; and in another I placed such as I should not be likely
to use, and a great many curiosities which I had collected during my
long wanderings. The latter trunk I did not calculate to open until I
reached my native land.
At 8 o'clock on the morning of the 16th our coach left the city,
in company with two others. We were eight in number, including the
coachman. Three of the party were ladies. One was a Frenchwoman,
a married lady travelling without her husband. Another was a
Spanishwoman, who had married {246} a wealthy Irishman, and was
accompanied by her husband. The third was the wife of a Mexican
officer, also one of the eight. This gentleman was an inveterate enemy
of the displaced President General Guerero. We journeyed on very
amicably together, without meeting with the slightest disturbance,
until the second day, when, about three o'clock in the afternoon, we
were met by a company of fifty men, all well mounted and armed. At
first sight of them we had supposed them to be a party which had been
sent from the city in search of some highwaymen who had committed
murder and robbery upon the road on which we were travelling, a few
days previous to our departure. A few minutes served to show us our
mistake.--They surrounded the coaches, commanding the drivers to
halt, and announcing themselves as followers of General Guerero. They
demanded money, of which they stated that they were in great need.
The tone of this demand was, however, humble, such as beggars would
use. While they addressed us in this manner, they contrived to place
themselves among and around the persons of our party in such a way
as to obtain entire command of us. The instant they had completed
this purpose, they presented their spears and muskets, and demanded
our arms. We resigned them without offering an objection, as we saw
clearly, that opposition would be unavailing. They now proceeded to
take from us what they thought proper. I was allowed to retain my
trunk of clothing for my journey. The Mexican officer was sitting by
his wife in the coach. Some of the soldiers seized him, and dragged
him from his almost distracted wife out of the carriage. His fate was
summarily decided, and he was hung upon a tree. When this dreadful
business was terminated, we were ordered to drive on. We gladly
hastened from such a scene of horror. But the agony of the unfortunate
wife was an impressive memorial to remind us of the nature of the late
occurrence, had we needed any other than our own remembrances. We left
this afflicted lady at Xalapa, in the care of her relations. A great
quantity of jalap, which is so much used in medicine, is obtained from
this place. {247} After leaving Xalapa, we advanced through a beautiful
country. We passed many small towns on this part of our route.
Our course had been a continued descent, after crossing the mountain
sixteen miles from the city of Mexico. The road is excellent, being
paved for the most part. It is cut through points of mountains in
several places. This work must have been attended with immense labor
and expense.
We reached Vera Cruz on the 24th. On the 27th Captain Hinkley and his
mate embarked for New York. I remained with the consul Mr. Stone, until
the 18th of July. A vessel being in readiness to sail for New Orleans
at this time, I was desirous to avail myself of the opportunity to
return to the United States. Mr. Stone and some others presented me
money sufficient to pay my passage to the point to which the vessel was
bound. It was very painful to me to incur this debt of gratitude, as I
could not even venture to hope that it would be in my power to repay
it, either in money or benefits of any kind. The prospect, which the
future offered me, was dark. It seemed as if misfortune had set her
seal upon all that concerned my destiny. I accepted this offering of
kindness and benevolence with thanks direct from my heart, and went on
board the vessel.
It would be idle for me to attempt to describe the feelings that
swelled my heart, as the sails filled to bear me from the shores of a
country, where I had seen and suffered so much. My dreams of success
in those points considered most important by my fellow men, were
vanished forever. After all my endurance of toil, hunger, thirst and
imprisonment, after encountering the fiercest wild beasts in their
deserts, and fiercer men, after tracing streams before unmeasured
and unvisited by any of my own race to their source, over rugged and
pathless mountains, subject to every species of danger, want and misery
for seven years, it seemed hard to be indebted to charity, however kind
and considerate it might be, for the means of returning to my native
land.
{248} As we sped on our way, I turned to look at the land I was
leaving, and endeavored to withdraw my thoughts from the painful train
into which they had fallen. Vera Cruz is the best fortified port I have
ever seen. The town is walled in, and well guarded on every side with
heavy cannon. The part of the wall extending along the water's edge, is
surmounted by guns pointing so as completely to command the shipping in
the harbour. A reef of rocks arises at the distance of half a mile from
the shore opposite the city, and continues visible for several miles in
a south direction, joining the main land seven or eight miles southwest
of Vera Cruz. A fort stands upon that part of the reef which fronts
the town. Ships in leaving or entering the harbour are obliged to pass
between the fort and the town.
We reached New Orleans on the first of August, although the wind had
not been entirely favorable. It blew a stiff breeze from a direction
which compelled us to run within five points and a half of the wind.
As I approached the spot where my foot would again press its native
soil, my imagination transported me over the long course of river
which yet lay between me, and all I had left in the world to love. I
cannot express the delight which thrilled and softened my heart, as
I fancied myself entering my home; for it was the home I had known
and loved when my mother lived, and we were happy that rose to my
view. Fancy could not present another to me. There were my brothers
and sisters, as I had been used to see them. The pleasant shade of
the trees lay upon the turf before the door of our dwelling. The
paths around were the same, over which I had so often bounded with
the elastic step of childhood, enjoying a happy existence. Years and
change have no place in such meditations. We landed, and I stood upon
the shore. I was aroused by the approach of an Englishman, one of my
fellow passengers, to a sense of my real position. He asked me if I had
taken a passage in a steamboat for Louisville? I immediately answered
in the negative. He then said he had bespoken one in the Cora; and as
I had {249} not chosen any other, he would be glad if I would go on in
the same one with him, and thus continue our companionship as long as
possible. So saying he took me by the arm to lead me in the direction
of the boat of which he spoke, that we might choose our births. As we
advanced together, it occurred to me to ask the price of a passage
to Louisville? I was answered, forty dollars. Upon hearing this I
stopped, and told my companion I could not take a birth just then, at
the same time putting my hand in my pocket to ascertain if the state
of my funds would permit me to do so at all. The Englishman seeing my
embarrassment, and conjecturing rightly its origin, instantly remarked,
that the passage money was not to be paid until the boat arrived at
Louisville. I was ashamed to own my poverty, and invented an excuse to
hide it, telling him, that I had an engagement at that time, but would
walk with him in the evening to see about the passage. He left me in
consequence. I then discovered, that so far from being able to take a
cabin passage I had not money enough to pay for one on the deck.
I re-entered the vessel in which I had arrived. As I approached the
captain I saw him point me out to a person conversing with him, and
heard him say, 'there is the young man I have been mentioning to you.
He speaks Spanish, and will probably engage with you.' When I was near
enough he introduced me to the stranger, whom he called Captain Vion.
The latter addressed a few remarks to me, and then requested me to
accompany him into his vessel. I consented and followed him on board.
He then told me, that he wished to engage a person to accompany him to
Vera Cruz, and aid in disposing of his vessel and cargo; and asked if
I was inclined to go with him for such a purpose? I said, in reply,
that it would depend entirely upon the recompense he offered for the
services to be performed. He remarked, that he would give a certain
per cent upon the brig and cargo, in case it was sold. I partly agreed
to his proposal, but told him that I could not decide finally upon it
until I had considered the matter. He then requested {250} me to come
to him the next day at 12 o'clock, when I would find him at dinner.
I left him, after promising to do so, and wandered about looking at the
city until evening, when I met the Englishman from whom I had parted
in the morning. He said he would now accompany me to the steam boat,
that we might choose our births according to our engagement. I had no
longer any excuse to offer, and was compelled to acknowledge that the
contents of my purse were not sufficient to justify me in contracting
a debt of forty dollars. I added, that I had an idea of returning to
Vera Cruz. He replied, that in regard to the passage money I need have
no uneasiness, nor hesitate to go on board, as he would defray my
expenses as far as I chose to go. In respect to my plan of returning to
Vera Cruz, he said that it would be exceedingly unwise for me to carry
it into execution; as the yellow fever would be raging by the time I
reached the city, and that it was most likely I should fall a victim
to it. I had, however, determined in my own mind that I would run
the risk, rather than ask or receive aid from a person to whom I was
comparatively unknown, and accordingly I refused his kindly proffered
assistance, telling him at the same time, that I felt as grateful to
him as though I had accepted his offered kindness, and that I would
have availed myself of his benevolent intentions towards me, had he
been a resident of my country; but as I knew him to be a traveller
in a foreign land, who might need all his funds, he must excuse me.
He then asked me if I had no acquaintance in New Orleans, of whom I
could obtain the money as a loan? I replied, that I did not know an
individual in the city; but if I carried my plan of returning to Vera
Cruz into execution, I should probably be enabled to proceed to my
friends without depending on any one. Upon this we separated, and each
went to his lodging.
At ten the succeeding morning my English friend came to my boarding
house, accompanied by Judge Johnston, who accosted me with a manner of
paternal kindness, enquiring of me how long I had been absent from my
country and relations? {251} I naturally enquired in turn, if he was in
any way acquainted with them? He replied, that he was; and advised me
to ascend the river, and visit them. I expressed to him how pleasant
it would be to me to visit them, but assured him that it was out of my
power to enjoy that pleasure at present. He enquired why? I avoided a
direct answer, and remarked, that I proposed returning to Vera Cruz.
He not only urged strong objections to this, but offered to pay my
passage up the river. It may be easily imagined how I felt in view of
such an offer from this generous and respectable stranger. I thankfully
accepted it, only assuring him that I should repay him as soon as it
was in my power. He replied that it was a matter of no consequence. He
advised me to go on board the steam boat and choose my birth, alleging,
that he had business in the city which would not allow him to accompany
me on board.
My English friend seemed highly gratified by this good fortune of mine,
and went with me on board the steam boat, where I chose a birth. The
name of this gentleman was Perry, and he was one of the two whom I have
already mentioned, who had travelled in company with me from the city
of Guadalaxara to Mexico. On the fourth, at nine in the morning, the
starting bell rung on the steam boat, and Judge Johnston, Mr. Perry and
myself went on board. This was the first steam boat on which I had ever
been. Scarcely was the interior of the first ship I was ever on board
at San Diego, a spectacle of more exciting interest. How much more
delighted was I to see her stem the mighty current of the Mississippi.
As I remarked the plantations, bends and forests sinking in the
distance behind me, I felt that I was rapidly nearing home; and at
every advance my anxiety to see my relations once more, increased.
To the many enquiries, made by Judge Johnston, touching the interior
of the continent where I had been wandering, I am sure I must have
given very unsatisfactory answers, much as I wished to oblige him. My
thoughts dwelt with such constant and intense solicitude upon home,
that I felt myself unable to frame answers to questions upon any other
subjects. {252} Home did I say? I have none. My father and mother
sleep--widely separated from each other. They left nine orphans without
resources to breast this stormy and mutable world. I, who ought to
supply the place of a parent to them, shall carry to them nothing but
poverty, and the withering remembrances of an unhappy wanderer, upon
whom misfortune seems to have stamped her inexorable seal.
I parted with Judge Johnston at Cincinnati, who gave me a line of
introduction to Mr. Flint, for which I felt under renewed obligations
to him, hoping it would be of service to me. I left Cincinnati; and on
the 30th of August arrived at the end of my journey. I have had too
much of real incident and affliction to be a dealer in romance; and yet
I should do injustice to my feelings, if I closed this journal without
a record of my sensations on reaching home. I have still before me,
unchanged by all, that I have seen, and suffered, the picture of the
abode of my infant days and juvenile remembrances. But the present
reality is all as much changed, as my heart. I meet my neighbors, and
school fellows, as I approach the home of my grandfather.--They neither
recognize me, nor I them. I look for the deep grove, so faithfully
remaining in my memory, and the stream that murmured through it. The
woods are levelled by the axe. The stream, no longer protected by the
deep shade, has almost run dry. A storm has swept away the noble trees,
that had been spared for shade. The fruit trees are decayed.
I was first met by my grandmother. She is tottering under the burden
and decline of old age, and the sight of me only recalls the painful
remembrance of my father, worn out by the torture of his oppressors,
and buried in the distant land of strangers and enemies. I could hardly
have remembered my grandfather, the once vigorous and undaunted hunter.
With a feeble and tremulous voice, he repeats enquiry upon enquiry,
touching the fate of my father? I look round for the dear band of
brothers and sisters. But one of the numerous group remains, and he
too young to know me; though I see enough to remind me, how much he
has stood in need of an efficient protector.--I hastily enquire for
the rest. One is here, and another is there, and my head is confused,
in listening to the names of the places of their residence. I left
one sister, a child. She is married to a person I never knew; one,
who, from the laws of our nature, can only regard me with the eye of a
stranger. We call each other brother, but the affectionate word will
not act as a key, to unlock the fountains of fraternal feeling.
They, however, kindly invite me to their home. I am impelled alike
by poverty and affection, to remain with them for a time, till I can
forget what has been, and weave a new web of hopes, and form a new
series of plans for some pursuit in life. Alas! disappointments, such
as I have encountered, are not the motives to impart vigor and firmness
for new projects. The freshness, the visions, the hopes of my youthful
days are all vanished, and can never return. If any one of my years has
felt, that the _fashion of this world passeth away_, and that all below
the sun is vanity, it is I. If there is a lesson from my wanderings, it
is one, that inculcates upon children, remaining at the paternal home
in peace and privacy; one that counsels the young against wandering far
away, to see the habitations, and endure the inhospitality of strangers.
END OF THE NARRATIVE
NOTE
The following articles are given, as containing fresh and important
information with regard to the countries, through which the Author
passed. Dr. Willard's 'Tour' was extensively quoted, by the periodicals
of the day, at the time of its publication.[132] Views taken, upon the
spot, by an impartial observer, of this comparatively unknown country,
so interesting in itself, and from its vicinity to our own country,
and the increasing relations, which connect us with it cannot fail
to interest the reader. By comparing the statements of individuals
differing entirely in training, position, and circumstances, and the
purpose for which a country is observed, such statements, in short as
are comprised in this volume, the real advantages and disadvantages
of a country, its healthfulness, fertility, climate, beauty and the
character of its inhabitants, and institutions may be known.
These travellers note down what passed under their eyes, "nothing
extenuating, nor setting down aught in malice." It probably did not
occur to them, that the imagination might almost work at will, without
fear of being caught in the fact, in the desert and unvisited regions
of which they speak.
INLAND TRADE WITH NEW MEXICO
Into what nook of our globe can we penetrate, and not find our citizens
with their 'trade and traffic?' We not long since read in a paper,
that a Yankee captain was running a steam boat in the Yellow sea.
In farthest India--in the islands of the gentiles--along the new
countries recently discovered in the Antarctic sea, the undisputed
throne of winter, and the habitation of sea monsters--wherever winds
can waft, human foot-step be imprinted, or the Argus ken of industry
and enterprise discover the most distant prospect of a harvest, there
we shall find Americans. We delight to consort, as a listener, among
the crowds of American tars. Their peculiar dress and step, walking
the firm earth as if 'she' reeled; their frank, reckless and manly
port; their voice, formed to its tones and expression amidst the
roar of the winds and the dash of the waves; their dialect, their
outlandish phrase, all furnish food for imagination. We hear them
speak of China, of Japan, of Borneo, the Cape of Good Hope, and Cape
Horn, as familiarly as the transit from New York to Greenwich. Their
language seems to imply that distance and space are ideas unknown to
them. Imagination follows them in their long and dangerous course {256}
through the trackless brine, and realizes how many storms they have
encountered, how many hardships endured, and deaths dared, during these
passages; of which they speak as familiarly as of their diurnal visits
on shore.