CHAPTER VII.

In the Stage and out of the Stage.--Still climbing.--A moment's View

of all the Kingdoms of the World.--Again in obscurity.--The Maguey,

or Century Plant.--The many uses of the Maguey.--The intoxicating

juice of the Maguey.--Pulque.--Immense Consumption of Pulque.--City

of Perote.--Castle of San Carlos de Perote.--Starlight upon the

Table-land.--Tequisquita.--"The Bad Land."--A very old Beggar.--Arrive

at Puebla.

The time allotted for my visit to Jalapa had come to a close. I took

out the ticket, endorsed _Escala donde le convengo_, which I

translated--"Let him stop when, where, and as long as he pleases," and

once more took my seat in the stage, which, on a fine afternoon, was

starting for Perote upon the table-land. This short journey lay across

the mountain of Perote, passing over an elevation of 10,400 feet, the

highest elevation that a stage-coach has yet reached, and one from

which the traveler can oftentimes enjoy a view of all the vegetable

"kingdoms of the world in a moment of time." I took my seat upon the

top of the coach, above the driver, that I might enjoy a last lingering

look at this Nature's paradise, before the mountain-ridge should

intervene between the world I had left behind, and the great salt

desert that we were soon to traverse.

The prospect from the coach-top, as we traveled onward, was even more

beautiful than that I have already described. For several miles beyond

Jalapa we were descending and passing through one of those valleys of

which the Spanish poets so often sing, where the roadside is covered

with a profusion of the flowers and vegetation that flourish only in

the most luxuriant soil. The valley was soon passed, and we began to

ascend so rapidly, that before an hour had passed we could mark the

changing vegetation, and observe the products of a colder climate; for

this changing vegetation is a barometer, which, in Mexico, marks the

ascent and descent as regularly as the most nicely-adjusted artificial

instrument. So accurately are the stratas of vegetation adjusted to the

stratas of the atmosphere which they inhabit, as to lead the traveler

to imagine that a gardener's hand had laid out the different fields

which here rise one above another upon the side of the mountain that

constitutes the eastern inclosure of the table-land. The fertility of

the soil did not seem to diminish; it was only the character of the

vegetation that changed step by step, as we wound our way up toward the

summit of the Perote.

MOUNTAIN VIEW.

We changed horses at La Hoya, a place memorable in the annals of civil

war, as the spot where General Rincon blocked up the pass when Santa

Anna was retiring in 1845, a fugitive from the country. Here the road

becomes so steep as to induce the traveler to walk a little, for the

better opportunities he can thus have of surveying the novel sights

that present themselves at every turn of the road. When he is fatigued

with climbing, and breathing the peculiar air of this altitude, he can

seat himself by the roadside to wait the arrival of the coach, and to

catch momentary glimpses, among floating clouds, of the country through

which he has passed in his ascent from the coast. He can see a long

distance through such a rarified atmosphere; but it is only a

bird's-eye view, as the mass that is heaped together is more than his

vision can fully take in, before a cloud, ragged and torn, has passed

across the picture. The eye is delighted more with the details of a

scene, than with this mass of all the excellences of all the climates.

Still he has time to divide into sections the world below him; and as

he thus contemplates in part, he at length realizes as a whole the

scene that is presented. The art of man never has, and never can,

produce such a combination in the arrangement of the courses of

vegetation. As the traveler stands at an elevation where pine-trees

crow in the tropics, where a post-and-board fence incloses a field of

grain, and where a storm of snow and sleet had fallen only a few hours

before, he can look down upon hills and plains, one below another, each

one, in the descending scale, exhibiting more and more of tropical

productions, until the regions of cocoa-nuts, and bananas, and

sarsaparilla, and palms, and jalap, and vanilla, are reached in his

perspective. This is a specimen chart, where all the climates and

productions of the world are embraced within the scope of a single

glance.

It is time to re-enter the coach, and close all openings, for a dense

fog is coming up from the sea, and has thrown so thick a curtain over

the prospect, that the eye can not penetrate it. The long line of

freight-wagons, that have served to mark the route that we have come,

disappear, one after another: we ourselves are soon enveloped in

darkness. With the fog has come a chill and piercing air, and the

pleasure of our mountain ride is now over. Still we move on and up with

little hindrance, as the road on this side of the "divide" is in good

repair. But as we go down on the other side, we are impeded by

freight-wagons held fast in the mud, and unable to move down-hill--it

being easier to drag a wagon up an ascent than to draw it down-hill

through stiff mud. An entirely different world now presents itself. We

are in a fine grain-growing country. Well-cultivated fields stretch out

as far as the eye can reach, with farm-houses scattered here and there,

that strikingly remind the traveler of his northern home at this season

of the year.

THE MAGUEY.--PULQUE.

The fences here are chiefly formed by rows of the _maguey_ or _century

plant_, growing at the side of a ditch. Here it reaches its greatest

perfection, and adds materially to the fine appearance of the fields,

and is seen every where upon the table-land. It grows wild upon the

mountains, and springs up in uncultivated places, as a weed. It is

cultivated, as a domestic plant, in little patches, and is also planted

in fields of leagues in extent. It grows luxuriantly in the richest

soils, and shows itself in those desert plains, where nothing else,

except a few spears of stinted grass and chaparral can exist.

The uses to which the maguey is applied are more numerous than the

methods of its cultivation. When its immense leaf is pounded into a

pulp, it forms a substitute for both cloth and paper. The fibre of the

leaf, when beaten and spun, forms a beautiful thread, resembling silk

in its glossy texture, but which, when woven into a fabric, more

resembles linen than silk. This thread is now, and ever has been, the

sewing thread of the country. The leaf of the maguey, when crudely

dressed and spun into a coarse thread, is woven into sail-cloth and

sacking; and from it is made the bagging in common use. The ropes made

from it are of that kind called Manilla hemp. It is the best material

in use for wrapping paper. When cut into coarse straws, it forms the

brooms and whitewash-brushes of the country; and, as a substitute for

bristles, it is made into scrub-brushes; and, finally, it supplies the

place of hair-combs among the common people.

The great value of the maguey plant arises from the amount of

intoxicating liquid which it produces, which is the chief source of

intoxication among the common people of the table-land. There are two

species of this plant cultivated. One of them flourishes in the desert

portions of the country, from which an abominable liquor is distilled,

called _mescal_, or _mejical_. The other is the flowering maguey, or

century plant, of which so many fabulous stories are told in the United

States. This is one of the wonders of the vegetable world. Until the

plant has reached its tenth year, or thereabouts, there is no trace of

a flower. In its fifteenth year, or thereabout, there are certain

appearances which indicate that the central stem, or _hampe_, which

sustains the flower, is about to form in the centre of the plant. If

persons are not on the watch to cut out the heart at the proper time,

the _hampe_ shoots out, and grows to about the height of a telegraph

post--for which I have often mistaken it--absorbing in its development

the sap, which, when fermented, forms the intoxicating drink called

_pulque_. The sprouting of the stalk takes place in November or

December; but the beautiful cluster of flowers, for which it is so much

admired, does not form at its top till February. In this last month,

the monster leaf that envelops the _hampe_ begins gradually to unfold

itself, exposing to view a slender stalk, higher than a man on

horseback, with arms extended. On this stalk grow the flowers. Such is

the century plant--in botanical language, the _Agava Americana_.

The juice of the maguey, in its unfermented state, is called

_honey-water_. It is gathered from the central basin by cutting off a

side-leaf and cutting out the heart, just before the sprouting of the

_hampe_, for whose sustenance this juice is destined. The basin, thus

formed, yields every day from four to seven quarts--according to the

size and thriftiness of the plant--for a period of two or three months.

The process of taking it out of the plant is a little curious. Into the

end of a long gourd is inserted a cow's horn, bored at the point;

through this horn and into the gourd the juice is sucked up by applying

the mouth to a hole in the opposite side of the gourd. From the

gourd-shell the juice is emptied into a bottle formed from the skin of

a hog, which still retains much of the form of the animal. To form this

bottle of honey-water into _pulque_, all that is necessary is to put

into it a little of the same material which has been laid aside till it

became sour, which operates like yeast, causing the honey-water to

ferment.

As soon as the maguey juice in the hog-skin has fermented, it is

_pulque_; and is readily sold for eight, and sometimes as high as

twenty-five cents a quart, producing a very large revenue upon the cost

of the plant. It is not ordinarily sold at wholesale; but each maguey

estate has its retail shops in town, from which the whole product of

the estate is retailed out. One man, who has five of these shops in the

city of Mexico, keeps his carriage; and is reckoned, among the magnates

of the land, deriving from this source alone, it is said, $25,000 a

year. The excise which Government derives from the sale of this liquor,

which, in taste, resembles sour butter-milk, amounted to $817,739 in

the year 1793.

PEROTE.

The traveler from the coast always arrives at Perote at a late hour;

and as he leaves it again at an early hour next morning, he recollects

nothing of it but its chilly night air, and the good supper which he

was too cold to enjoy. But on his return from Mexico, he usually has an

hour of daylight, which he can improve in a survey of this small and

cleanly town. Here the freight-wagons, with their twenty horses apiece,

stop to recruit; and the cargo-mules, that take this route, are

gathered in the immense stable-yards, which give to the place the

appearance of a collection of caravansaries. The whitewash-brush has

been industriously applied to the outside of the houses; and though

they are chiefly built of that frail material, dried mud, they present

a very neat and tidy appearance, giving one a very correct idea of what

may have been the appearance of one of the first class of Indian towns

in the times of Cortez.

A few rods to the north of the town stands the castle of San Carlos--a

square fort, with a moat and glacis. It is built in the best style of

fortifications of the last century, having been designed as a

depository for silver, when, in consequence of the wars of Spain with

maritime nations, it was not deemed prudent to send it forward to the

coast: it was much used for this purpose when the road below was

blocked up, in the times of the insurrection, that began in the year

1810. At one time the accumulation here was so great that it is said

to have amounted to 40,000,000 of silver dollars; weighing about 1300

tons, or a little short of the whole silver export of two years. This

castle is now in a fine state of repair. It has a large garrison of

lancers, and at the time of my visit was daily in expectation of the

arrival of Santa Anna. From this castle Santa Anna, in 1828, issued his

_pronunciamiento_ against Pedraza. In this castle he was imprisoned by

Rincon, in 1845, after his capture at Xico. From this castle he was

banished by decree of the Mexican Congress; and to it he was now

returning to hold the supreme power in the State.

At two o'clock in the morning we were aroused from our comfortable beds

to take our places in the stage; and soon we were again upon the road.

There is something exceedingly attractive in the appearance of the

skies upon this elevated table-land, 7692 feet above the ocean. The

morning star-light is very beautiful. It is so much clearer, and the

stars are therefore so much brighter here than in the dense atmosphere

where we inhabit, that the traveler, half chilled and sleeping, rouses

himself to contemplate the brilliant sights above him. The brightest

stars that he has watched from childhood up, are brighter now than

ever. New stars have filled the voids in his celestial chart, and

satellites are dancing round well-known planets. The North Star is

still visible, now 19 deg. above the horizon. The Dipper has dipped far

down to the northward. The Southern Cross--that mysterious combination

of five stars, that emblem of the faith of Southern America, which only

reaches full meridian at midnight prayers--is here 25 deg. above the

horizon, shining brilliantly. And then there are so many unknown

southern stars, and so many unfamiliar constellations, that the short

hours of night are well spent upon the driver's box.

We have been gradually descending into what appears to have once been

the bottom of a salt lake. The ground is partially incrusted with a

compound salt called _tequisquita_, is composed of equal proportions of

muriate of soda, carbonate of soda, and insoluble metal (common earth):

this compound is used by the Mexican bakers and soap-boilers as a

substitute for salt and soda. A stinted grass is here and there

scattered in patches over the _bad land_, as these barren plains are

called; but the dry earth, which is rarely moistened for six months

together, is covered with drifting sand, which is driven about by the

hot winds of this desert.

How great was the change from what we had passed! The celestial chart,

that we had been admiring with so much rapture, had gradually rolled

itself up, and as the sun came out, we had a view of the dreariness

around us. It was truly a _bad land_--a land of evil--even a land

for wolves to prowl in, and where vultures watch for the carcasses of

dying mules, and where robbers ply their calling with little fear of

detection. Here, in the midst of all this dreariness, we saw a pretty

lake, and beautiful scenery around it, that looked for a little while

like an enchanted scene, and then vanished into air. We passed the

hostelry of Tepeyagualco, where water is drawn from a fabulous depth,

and soon came to that most celebrated spring of fresh water, situated

upon the boundary-line of the two departments of Vera Cruz and Puebla,

and bearing the poetical name of "The Eye of Waters." But we were

followed by a driving storm of sand all the way to Nopaluca, where we

breakfasted at twelve o'clock.

AGED BEGGAR.

As we came out from breakfast we encountered an old beggar, whom I had

often seen before at this place. He was so old that Time seemed to have

forgotten him, and he too had forgotten Time. He could only reach his

age by approximation: he recollected that his third son was earning

day-wages when the decree came (in 1767) for the expulsion of the

Jesuits. This would make the old beggar 130 years of age, if we call

the son eighteen, and the father twenty-five at the time of his birth.

Poor old man! how much he has suffered from outliving his own kindred.

One after another he has followed to the grave his children and his

children's children, to the third and fourth generation, till now the

lad that leads him by the hand, the only link that binds him to the

race of the living, is of the sixth generation.

Toward evening, after we had passed the storm of dust, we came to the

large village of Amosoque, which is the only town of any magnitude

between Perote and Puebla. It is noted for its excellent spurs; and was

formerly much more noted as a haunt of robbers. From this village we

were driven in a little more than an hour to the city of Puebla.

Mexico and Its Religion With Incidents of Travel in That Country During Parts of the Years 1851-52-53-54, and Historical Notices of Events Connected With Places Visited · 第 7 / 34 章