CHALCHICOMULA. JALAPA. VERA CRUZ. CONCLUSION.
[Illustration: INDIANS OF THE PLATEAU.
_(After Nebel.)_]
The mountain-slopes which descend from the Sierra Madre eastward toward
the sea are furrowed by _barrancas_—deep ravines with perpendicular
sides, and with streams flowing at the bottom. But here all these
_barrancas_ run almost due east and west, so that our journey from Vera
Cruz to Mexico was made, as far as I can recollect, without crossing
one. Now, the case was quite different. We had to go from the Potrero
to the city of Jalapa, about fifty miles on the map, nearly northward,
and to get over these fifty miles cost us two days and a half of hard
riding.
By the road it cannot be much less than eighty miles; but people used
to tell us that, during the American war, an Indian went from Orizaba
to Jalapa with despatches within the twenty-four hours, probably by
mountain-paths which made it a little shorter. He came quite easily
into Jalapa at the same shuffling trot which he had kept up almost
without intermission for the whole distance. This is the Indian’s
regular pace when he is on a journey, and I believe that the Red
Indians of the north have a similar gait.
We used sometimes to see a village or a house three or four miles off,
and count upon reaching it in half an hour. But a few steps further on
there would be a barranca, invisible till we came close to it, perhaps
not more than a few hundred feet wide, so that it was easy to talk to
people on the other bank. But the bottom of the chasm might be five
hundred or a thousand feet below us; and the only way to cross was to
ride along the bank, often for miles, until we reached a place where it
had been possible to make a steep bridle-path zigzagging down to the
stream below, and up again on the other side. It is only here and there
that even such paths can be made, for the walls of rock are generally
too steep even for any vegetation, except grass and climbing plants in
the crevices. Our half-hour’s ride, as we supposed it would be, would
often extend to two or three hours, for on these slopes two or three
barrancas—large and small—-have sometimes to be crossed within as many
miles.
If our journey had been even slower and more difficult, we should not
have regretted it; the country through which we were riding was so
beautiful. There were but few inhabitants, and the landscape was much
as nature had left it. The great volcano of Orizaba came into view now
and then with its snowy cone,[24] mountain-streams came rushing along
the ravines, and the forests of oaks were covered with innumerable
species of orchids and creepers, breaking down the branches with their
weight. Many kinds were already in flower, and their great blossoms of
white, purple, blue, and yellow, stood out against the dark green of
the oak-leaves. Wherever a mountain-stream ran down some shady little
valley, there were tree-ferns thirty feet high, with the new fronds
forming a tuft at the top of the old scarred trunk. Round the Indian
cottages were cactuses with splendid crimson flowers, daturas with
brilliant white blossoms, palm- and fruit-trees of fifty kinds. We
stopped at one of the cottages, and bought an armadillo that had just
been caught in the woods close by, while routing among his favourite
ants’ nests. He was put into a palm-leaf basket, which held him all but
the tip of his long taper tail, which, like the rest of his body, was
covered with rings of armour fitting beautifully into one another. One
of our men carried him thus in his arms to Jalapa.
[24] See the illustration at page 281.
The Mexicans call an armadillo “_ayotochtli_,” that is,
“tortoise-rabbit,” a name which will be appreciated by any one who
knows the appearance of the little animal.
The villages and towns we passed were dismal places enough, and the
population scanty; but that this had not always been the case was
evident from the numerous remains of ancient Indian mound-forts or
temples which we passed on our road, indicating the existence of large
towns at some former period. There is a drawing in Lord Kingsborough’s
work of a _teocalli_ or pyramid at San Andrés Chalchicomula, which we
seem to have missed on account of the darkness having come on before we
reached the town. We were several times deceived that evening by the
fireflies, which we took for lights moving about in some village just
ahead of us; and we became so incredulous at last that we would not
believe we had reached our journey’s end until we could made out the
dim outlines of the houses. At the inn at San Andrés we found that we
could have no rooms, as all the little windowless dens were occupied by
people from the country who had come in for a _fiesta_. There were
indeed a good many men loafing about the courtyard, but scarcely any
women, and we could hardly understand a fandango happening without
them. They thought otherwise, however; and presently, hearing the
tinkling of a guitar, we went out and saw two great fellows in broad
hats, jackets, and serapes, solemnly dancing opposite to one another;
while more men looked on, smoking cigarettes, and an old fellow with a
face like a baboon was squatting in one corner and producing the music
we had heard. To do them justice, I must say that we found, on further
enquiry, they had not come from their respective ranchos merely to make
fools of themselves in this way, but that there was to be some
horsefair in the neighbourhood next day, and they were going there.
Our not being able to get any supper but eggs and bread, and having to
sleep on the supper-table afterwards, confirmed us in the theory we
were beginning to adopt, that nature and mankind vary in an inverse
ratio; and we were off at daybreak, delighted to get into the forest
again. We rode over hill and dale for four or five hours, and then
along the edge of a barranca for the rest of the day. This was one of
the grandest chasms we had ever seen, even in Mexico. It was four or
five miles wide, and two or three thousand feet deep, and its floor was
a mass of tropical verdure, with here and there an Indian rancho and a
patch of cultivated ground on the bank of the rapid river, whose sound
we heard when we approached the edge of the barranca. There were more
orchids and epidendrites than ever in the forest. In some places they
had killed every third tree, by forming so and close a covering over
its branches as to destroy its life; they were flourishing unimpaired
on the rotting branches of trees which they had brought down to the
ground years before. The rainy season had not yet set in in this part
of the country; and, though we could hear the rushing of the torrent
below, we looked in vain for water in the forest, until our man Martin
showed us the _bromelias_ in the forks of the branches, in the inside
of whose hollow leaves nature has laid up a supply of water for the
thirsty traveller.
We loaded our horses with the bulbs of such orchids as were still in
the dry state, and would travel safely to Europe. Sometimes we climbed
into the trees for promising specimens, but oftener contented ourselves
with tearing them from the branches as we rode below. When saddle-bags
and pockets were full, we were for a time at fault, for there seemed no
place for new treasures, when suddenly I remembered a pair of old
trousers. We tied up the ends of the legs, which we filled with
orchids; and the garment travelled to Jalapa sitting in its natural
position across my saddle, to the amazement of such Mexican society as
we met. The contents of the two pendant legs are now producing splendid
flowers in several English hothouses.
By evening we reached the _Junta_, a place where the great ravine was
joined by a smaller one, and a long slanting descent brought us to the
edge of the river. There was a ferry here, consisting of a raft of logs
which the Indian ferryman hauled across along a stout rope. The horses
were attached to the raft by their halters, and so swam across. On the
point of land between the two rivers the Indians had their huts, and
there we spent the night. We chose the fattest _guajalote_ of the
turkey-pen, and in ten minutes he was simmering in the great earthen
pot over the fire, having been cut into many pieces for convenience of
cooking, and the women were busy grinding Indian corn to be patted out
into tortillas. While supper was getting ready, and Mr. Christy’s day’s
collection of plants was being pressed (the country we had been passing
through is so rich that the new specimens gathered that day filled
several quires of paper), we had a good deal of talk with the brown
people, who could all speak a little Spanish. Some years before, the
two old people had settled there, and set up the ferry. Besides this,
they made nets and caught much fish in the river, and cultivated the
little piece of ground which formed the point of the promontory. While
their descendants went no further than grandchildren the colony had
done very well; but now great-grandchildren had begun to arrive, and
they would soon have to divide, and form a settlement up in the woods
across the river, or upon some patch of ground at the bottom of one of
the barrancas.
We were interested in studying the home-life of these people, so
different from what we are accustomed to among our peasants of Northern
Europe, whose hard continuous labour is quite unknown here. For the
men, an occasional pull at the _balsas_ (the rafts of the ferry), a
little fishing, and now and then—when they are in the humour for it— a
little digging in the garden-ground with a wooden spade, or dibbling
with a pointed stick. The women have a harder life of it, with the
eternal grinding and cooking, cotton-spinning, mat-weaving, and tending
of the crowds of babies. Still it is an easy lazy life, without much
trouble for to-day or care for to-morrow. When the simple occupations
of the day are finished, the time does not seem to hang heavy upon
their hands. The men lie about, “thinking of nothing at all;” and the
women—old and young—gossip by the hour, in obedience to that beneficent
law of nature which provides that their talk shall increase inversely
in proportion to what they have to talk about. We find this law
attaining to its most complete fulfilment when they shut themselves up
in nunneries, to escape as much as possible from all sources of worldly
interest, and gossip there more industriously than anywhere else, as we
are informed on very good authority.
Like all the other Mexican Indians whose houses we visited, the people
here showed but little taste in adorning their dwellings, their dresses
and their household implements. Beyond a few calabashes scraped smooth
and ornamented with coloured devices, and the blue patterns on the
women’s cotton skirts, there was scarcely anything to be seen in the
way of ornament. How great was the skill of the Mexicans in ornamental
work at the time of the Conquest, we can tell from the carved work in
wood and stone preserved in museums, the graceful designs on the
pottery, the tapestry, and the beautiful feather-work; but this taste
has almost disappeared in the country. Just in the same way, contact
with Europeans has almost destroyed the little decorative arts among
most barbarous people, as, for example, the Red Indians and the natives
of the Pacific Islands; and what little skill in these things is left
among them is employed less for themselves than in making curious
trifles for the white people, and even in these we find that European
patterns have mixed with the old designs, or totally superseded them.
The Indians lodged us in an empty cane-hut, where they spread mats upon
the ground, and we made pillows of our saddles. We were soon tired of
looking up at the stars through the chinks in the roof, and slept till
long after sunrise. Then the Indians rafted us across the second river;
and we rode on to Jalapa, having accomplished our horseback journey of
nearly three hundred miles with but one accident, the death of a horse,
the four-pound one. He had been rather overworked, but would most
likely have got through, had we not stopped the last night at the
Indian _ranchos_, where there was no forage but green maize leaves, a
food our beasts were not accustomed to. It seems our men gave him too
much of this, and then allowed him to drink excessively; and next
morning he grew weaker and weaker, and died not long after we reached
Jalapa. Our other two horses were rather thin, but otherwise in good
condition; and the horse-dealers, after no end of diplomacy on both
sides, knocked under to our threat of sending them back to Mexico in
charge of Antonio, and gave us within a pound or two of what they had
cost us. There, is a good deal of trading in horses done at Jalapa,
where travellers coming down from Mexico sell their beasts, which are
disposed of at great prices to other travellers coming up from the
coast. Between here and Vera Cruz, people prefer travelling in the
Diligence, or in some covered carriage, to exposing themselves to the
sun in the hot and pestilential region of the coast.
Jalapa is a pleasant city among the hills, in a country of forests,
green turf, and running streams. It is the very paradise of botanists;
and its products include a wonderful variety of trees and flowers, from
the apple- and pear-trees of England to the _mameis_ and _zapotes_ of
tropical America, and the brilliant orchids which are the ornament of
our hot-houses. The name of the town itself has a botanical celebrity,
for in the neighbouring forests grows the _Purga de Jalapa_, which we
have shortened into _jalap_.
A day’s journey above it, lies the limit of eternal snow, upon the peak
of Orizaba; a day’s journey below it is Vera Cruz, the city of the
yellow fever, surrounded by burning sands and poisonous exhalations, in
a district where, during the hot months now commencing, the thermometer
scarcely ever descends below 80°, day or night. Jalapa hardly knows
summer or winter, heat or cold. The upper current of hot air from the
Gulf of Mexico, highly charged with aqueous vapour, strikes the
mountains about this level, and forms the belt of clouds that we have
already crossed more than once during our journey. Jalapa is in this
cloudy zone, and the sky is seldom clear there. It is hardly hotter in
summer than in England, and not even hot enough for the mosquitoes,
which are not to be found here though they swarm in the plain below.
This warm damp climate changes but little in the course of the year.
There are no seasons, in our sense of the word, for spring lasts
through the year.
We walked out on the first afternoon of our arrival; and sat on stone
seats on a piece of green turf surrounded by trees, that reminded us
pleasantly of the village-greens of England. There we talked with the
children of an English acquaintance who had been settled for many years
in the town, and had married a Mexican lady. They were fine lads; but,
as very often happens in such cases, they could only speak the language
of the country. Nothing can show more clearly how thoroughly a
foreigner yields to the influences around him, when he settles in a
country and marries among its people. An Englishman’s own character,
for instance, may remain to some extent; but his children are scarcely
English in language or in feeling, and in the next generation there is
nothing foreign about his descendants but the name.
When we reached our hotel it was about sunset, and the heavy dew had
wetted us through, as though we had been walking in the rain. This was
no exceptional occurrence. All the year round such dews fall morning
and evening, as well as almost daily showers of rain. The climate is
too warm for this dampness to injure health, as it would in our colder
regions. To us, who had just left the bracing air of the high plateaus,
it seemed close and relaxing; but the inhabitants are certainly strong
and healthy, and one can imagine the enjoyment which the white
inhabitants of Vera Cruz must feel, when they can get away from that
city of pestilence into the pure air of the mountains.
Our quarters were at the _Veracruzana_, where we occupied a great
whitewashed room. A large grated window opened into the garden, where
the armadillo was fastened to a tree by a long string, and had soon dug
a deep hole with his powerful fore-claws, as the manner of the creature
is. The necessity of supplying the “little man in armour” with insects
for his daily food gave us some idea of the amazing abundance and
variety of the insects of the district. We caught creeping things
innumerable in the garden, but narrowly escaped being stung by a small
scorpion; and therefore delegated the task to an old Indian, who walked
out into the fields with an earthen pot, and returned with it full of
insects in about half an hour. We reckoned that there were over fifty
species in the pot.
Many of the houses and Indian huts were adorned with collections of
insects pinned on the walls in patterns, among which figured scorpions
some three inches long; and the centre-ornament was usually a
tarantula, said to be one of the most poisonous creatures of the
tropics, a monstrous spider, whose dark grey body and legs are covered
with hairs. A fine specimen will have a body about as large as a small
hen’s egg, and, with his legs in their natural position, will just
stand in a cheese-plate. The Boots of the hotel went out and caught a
fine scorpion for our amusement; he brought it into our room wrapped in
a piece of brown paper, and was on the point of letting it out on our
table for us to see it run. We protested against this, and had it put
into a tumbler and covered it up with a book.
The inner _patio_ of the hotel was surrounded with the usual arcade,
into which the rooms opened. Close to our door was a long table, with a
green cloth, where the Jalapenians were constantly playing _monte_,
from nine in the morning till late at night. All classes were
represented there, from the muleteer who came to lose his hard-earned
dollars, to the rich shopkeepers and planters of the town and
neighbourhood.
I went early one afternoon to the house of the principal agent for the
Vera Cruz carriers, to arrange for sending down our heavy packages to
the coast. There was no one at the office but a girl. I enquired for
the master—“_Está jugando_,”—“He is playing,” she said. I need not have
gone so far to look for him, for he was sitting just outside our
bedroom door, and indeed had been there all day. Before he condescended
to arrange our business, he waited to see the fate of the dollar he had
just put down, and which I was glad to see he lost.
Jalapa was not always the stagnant place it is now. Its pleasant houses
and gardens date from a period when it was a town of some importance.
In old times the only practicable road from Vera Cruz to Mexico passed
this way; and Jalapa was the entrepôt where the merchants had their
warehouses, and from whence the trains of mules distributed the
European merchandise from the coast to the different markets of the
country. By this arrangement, the carrying from the coast was done by a
small number of muleteers, who were seasoned to the climate, while the
great mass of traders and carriers were not obliged to descend from the
healthy region. This was of the more importance, because, though the
pure Indians are not liable to the attacks of yellow fever, the disease
is as deadly to the other inhabitants of the high lands as to
Europeans; and even those of the _mestizos_ who have the least
admixture of white blood are subject to it. Of late years, this system
has been given up, and the carriers from the high lands go down to the
coast to fetch their loads, and every year they leave some of their
number in the church-yards of the City of the Dead; while many others,
though they recover from the fever, never regain their former health
and strength. The high-road to Mexico now goes by Orizaba, so that the
importance of Jalapa as a trading-place has almost ceased.
Our Mexican journey was now all but finished, and I left my companion
here, and took the Diligence to Vera Cruz, to meet the West India
Mail-packet. Mr. Christy followed a day or two later, and went to the
United States. We dismissed our two servants, Martin and Antonio.
Martin invested his wages in a package of tobacco, which he proposed to
carry home on his horse, travelling by night along unfrequented
mountain-paths, where custom-house officers seldom penetrate. We never
heard any more of him; but no doubt he got safe home, for he was
perfectly competent to take care of himself, and he probably made a
very good thing of his journey. It was quite with regret that we parted
from him, for he was a most sensible, useful fellow, with a continual
flow of high spirits, and no end of stories of his experiences in
smuggling, and hunting wild cattle in the _tierra caliente_, in which
two adventurous occupations most of his life had been passed. In his
dealings with us, he was honesty itself, notwithstanding his equivocal
profession.
We offered Antonio a cheque on Mexico for his wages, as he was going
back there, but he said he would rather have hard dollars. We paid his
fare to Mexico by the Diligence, and gave him his money, telling him at
the same time, that he was a fool for his pains. He started next
morning; and we heard, a month or two later, that the coach was stopped
the same afternoon in the plains of Perote, and Antonio was robbed not
only of his money but even of his jacket and serape, and reached Mexico
penniless and half-naked. He was always a silly fellow, and his last
exploit was worthy of him.
Mr. Christy sat up till daybreak to see me off, filling up his time by
writing letters and pressing plants. When I was gone, he lay down in
his bed, in rather a dreamy state of mind, looking up at the ceiling.
There was a large beam just above his head, and at one side of it a
hole, which struck him as being a suitable place for a scorpion to come
out of. This idea had come into his head from the sight of the specimen
in the tumbler on the table, who had with great difficulty been drowned
in _aguardiente_. Presently something moved in the hole, and the
spectator below instantly became wide awake. Then came out a claw and a
head, and finally the body and tail of a very fine scorpion, two inches
and a half long. It was rather an awkward moment, for it was not safe
to move suddenly, for fear of startling the creature, whose footing
seemed anything but secure; and if he fell, he would naturally sting
whatever he might come in contact with. However, he met with no
accident on his way, and getting into another hole, about a yard off,
he drew up his tail after him and disappeared. Mr. Christy slipped out
of his bed with a sense of considerable relief; and having ascertained
that there were no holes in the ceiling above the bed on the other side
of the room, he turned in there, and went comfortably to sleep.
My only companion in the Diligence was a German shopman from Vera Cruz,
who was sociable, but not of an instructive turn of conversation. When
we had descended for a few hours, the heat became intolerable. Scarcely
any habitation but a few Indian cane-huts by the way-side, with bananas
and palm-trees. We stopped, about three in the afternoon, at a _rancho_
in a small village, and did not start again until next morning, a
little before day-break. Negroes and people of negro descent began to
abound in this congenial climate. I remember especially the
waiting-maid at the _rancho_, who was a “white negress,” as they are
called. Her hair and features showed her African origin; but her hair
was like white wool, and her face and hands were as colourless as those
of a dead body. This animated corpse was healthy enough, however; and
this peculiarity of the skin is, it seems, not very uncommon.
The coast-regions through which I was passing abound in horned cattle,
but they are mostly far away from the high-roads. In spite of the
intense heat of the climate they thrive as well as in the higher lands.
Some are tolerably tame, and are kept within bounds by the _vaqueros_;
but the greater proportion, numbering tens of thousands, roam wild
about the country. In comparison with these cattle of the _tierra
caliente_, the fiercest beasts of the plateaus are safe and quiet
creatures. The only way of bringing them into the _corral_ is by using
tame animals for decoys, just as wild elephants are caught.
Our man Martin, who had once been a _vaquero_ on the Vera Cruz coast,
used to look upon the bulls of the high lands with great contempt. If
you chase them they run away, he said. If you lazo a bull of the hot
country, you have to gallop off with all your might, with the _toro_
close at your heels; and, if the horse falls, it may cost his life or
his rider’s.
We thus find the horned cattle flourishing at every elevation, from the
sea-level to the mountain-pastures ten thousand feet above it. Horses
and sheep show less adaptability to this variety of climates. The
horses and mules come mostly from the States of the North, at a level
of from 5,000 to 8,000 feet; that remarkable country of which
Humboldt’s observation gives us the best idea, when he says that,
although there are no made roads, wheel-carriages can travel distances
of a thousand miles over gently-undulating prairies, without meeting
any obstruction on the way.
Numbers of sheep are reared in the mountains, principally for the sake
of the tallow, for the consumption of tallow-candles in the mines is
enormous. The owners scarcely care at all for the rest of the animal;
and popular scandal accuses the sheep-farmers of driving their flocks
straight into the melting-coppers, without going through the
preliminary ceremony of killing them. People told us that the tallow
made in the cold regions loses its consistency when brought down into
hotter climates, but we had no means of ascertaining the truth of this.
Artificial lighting by means of tallow was not known to the ancient
Mexicans, who could not indeed have procured tallow except from the fat
of deer and smaller animals.
Bernal Diaz tells how the Spanish invaders used to dress their wounds
with “Indian Ointment.” He explains the nature of this preparation in
another place. The Spaniards could get no oil in the country, nor
anything else to make salve with, so they took some fat Indian who had
just been killed in battle, and simply boiled him down.
Our ride next morning was but a few hours, the journey being so divided
in order that the passengers may reach Vera Cruz before the heat of the
day begins. We passed over a dreary district, generally too dry for
anything but cactus and acacias, but now and then, when a little water
was to be found, displaying clumps of bamboos with their elegant
feathery tufts. Then the railway took us through the dismal downs, with
their swamps and sand-hills, and so into Vera Cruz.
The English merchants we had already made acquaintance with were as
kind and hospitable as ever, and I found an Englishman, whom we had
known before, going as far as Havana by the same packet. The yellow
fever was unusually late this year, and, though June had begun, there
were but few cases. We heard afterwards that it set in a week or two
after our departure, and by its extraordinary severity made ample
amends for the lateness of its arrival.
After sunset, the air was alive with mosquitos, and the floors of the
hotel swarmed with cockroaches. The armadillo took quite naturally to
the latter creatures, and crunched them up as fast as we could catch
them for him. I was surprised to find that our word “cockroaches” does
not come from the German stock, like most of our names for insects and
small creatures, but from the Latin side of the house. The Spanish
waiter called them _cucarachas_, and the French ones _coqueraches_. The
history of the armadillo ends unfortunately: for some days he seemed to
take quite kindly to the diet of bits of meat which we had to put him
on, on shipboard, but he fell sick at Havana, and died.
My late companion travelled up into the Northern States, went to the
Indian assembly at Manitoulin Island, paid a visit to various tribes of
Red Men in the Hudson’s Bay Territory—as yet unmissionized, carried
away in triumph the big medicine-drum I have already spoken of, and saw
and did many other things not to be related here. One sight that he
saw, some months later, reminded him of the wild country where we had
travelled together. He was in Iowa City, a little town of a year or
two’s growth, out in the prairie States of the Far West. As he stood
one morning in the outskirts, among the plank-houses and half-made
roads, there came a solitary horseman riding in. Evidently he had come
from the Mexican frontier, a thousand miles and more away across the
plains; and no doubt, his waggons and the rest of his party were behind
him on the road, beyond the distant horizon of the prairie. By his face
he was American, but his costume was the dress of old Mexico, the
leather jacket and trousers, the broad white hat and huge jingling
spurs. His lazo hung in front of his high-peaked saddle, and his
well-worn serape was rolled up behind him like a trooper’s cloak. As he
approached the town, he spurred his jaded beast, who broke into the old
familiar _paso_ of the Mexican plains. “It was my last sight of
Mexico,” said my companion. He saluted the horseman in Spanish, and the
well-known words of welcome made the grim man’s haggard sunburnt
features relax into a smile as he returned the salutation and rode on.
As for myself, my voyage home was short and unadventurous. From Vera
Cruz to Havana, most of my companions were Mexican refugees who had
been turned out of the country for being mixed up with Haro’s
revolution or Santa Ana’s intrigues. They were showily got-up men,
elaborately polite, and with much to say for themselves; but every now
and then some casual remark showed what stuff they were made of, and I
pitied more than ever the unfortunate countries whose political
destinies depend on the intrigues of these adventurers.
In the hot land-locked bay of St. Thomas’s we, with the contents of
eight or nine more steamers, were shifted into the great steamer bound
homeward. I went ashore with an old German gentleman, and walked about
the streets. St. Thomas’s is a Danish island, and a free port, that is,
a smuggling depôt for the rest of the West India islands, much as
Gibraltar is for the Mediterranean. It is a stifling place, full of
mosquitos and yellow fever, and the confusion of tongues reigns there
even more than in Gibraltar, for the blacks in the streets all speak
three or four languages, and the shopkeepers six or seven.
We were a strange mixture on board the ‘Atrato’, over two hundred of
us. Peruvians and Chilians from across the isthmus, Spaniards and
Cubans, black gentlemen from Hayti, French colonists from Martinique,
but English preponderating above all other nationalities. One or two
governors of small islands, with their families, maintaining the
dignity of Government House, at least as far as Southampton, and
unapproachable by common mortals. Army men from West India stations,
who appeared to spend their mornings in ordering the wine for dinner,
and their evenings in abusing it when they had drunk it. West India
planters, who thought it was rather hard that the Anti-slavery Society,
after ruining them and their plantations, should moreover insist on
their believing themselves to be great gainers by the change. We were
all crowded, hot, and uncomfortable, and showed our worst side, but as
we neared England better influences got the ascendant again.
It was pleasant to breathe a cooler air, and to feel that I was getting
back to my own country and my own people; but with this feeling there
was mixed some regret for the beautiful scenes I had left. The evenings
of our latitudes seemed poor when we lost the gorgeous sunsets of the
tropics, and the sea alive with luminous creatures. When I came on deck
one evening and missed the brightest ornament of the sky—the Southern
Cross, I felt that I had left the tropics, and that all my efforts to
realize the life of the last half-year would produce but a vague and
shadowy picture.
Since we left Mexico, I have not cared to follow very accurately even
the newspaper intelligence of what has been and still is going on
there. It is a pitiable history. Continual wars and revolutions, utter
insecurity of life and property, the Indians burning down the haciendas
in the South and turning out the white people, the roads on the plains
impassable on account of deserters and robbers; sometimes no practical
government at all, then two or three at once, who raise armies and
fight a little sometimes, but generally confine themselves to
plundering the peaceable inhabitants. An army besieges the capital for
months, but appears to do nothing but cut the water off from the
aqueducts, shoot stragglers, and levy contributions. One leader raises
a forced loan among the foreign residents, and imprisons or expels
those who do not submit. The leader on the other side does the same in
his part of the country, putting the British merchant in prisons where
a fortnight would be a fair average life for an European, and
threatening him with summary courtmartial and execution if he does not
pay.
London newspapers dwell on these details, and tell us that we may learn
from the condition of this unfortunate country how useless are
democratic forms among a people incapable of liberty, and that very
weak governments can commit all sorts of crimes with impunity, from the
fact that they have no official existence which foreign powers can
recognize; and various other weighty moral lessons, which must be
highly edifying to our countrymen in the Republic, who are meanwhile
left pretty much to shift for themselves.
All this time the United States are steadily advancing; and the destiny
of the country is gradually accomplishing itself. That its total
absorption must come, sooner or later, we can hardly doubt. The chief
difficulty seems to be that the American constitution will not exactly
suit the case. The Republic laid down the right of each citizen to his
share in the government of the country as a universal law, founded on
indefeasible lights of humanity, fundamental laws of nature, and what
not, making, it is true, some slight exceptions with regard to red and
black men. The Mexicans, or at least the white and half-caste Mexicans,
will be a difficulty. Their claims to citizenship are unquestionable,
if Mexico were made a State of the Union; and, as everybody knows, they
are totally incapable of governing themselves, which they must be left
to do under the constitutional system of the United States; moreover,
it is certain that American citizens would never allow even the whitest
of the Mexicans to be placed on a footing of equality with themselves.
Supposing these difficulties got over by a Protectorate, an armed
occupation, or some similar contrivance, Mexico will undergo a great
change. There will be roads and even rail-roads, some security for life
and property, liberty of opinion, a nourishing commerce, a rapidly
increasing population, and a variety of good things. Every intelligent
Mexican must wish for an event so greatly to the advantage of his
country and of the world in general.
Some of our good friends in Mexico have bought land on the American
frontier by the hundred square leagues, and can point out patches upon
the map of the world as large as Scotland or Ireland—as their private
property. What their gains will be when enterprising western men begin
to bring the country under cultivation, it is not an easy matter to
realize.
As for ourselves individually, we may be excused for cherishing a
lurking kindness for the quaint, picturesque manners and customs of
Mexico, as yet un-Americanized; and for rejoicing that it was our
fortune to travel there before the coming change, when its most curious
peculiarities and its very language must yield before foreign
influences.
APPENDIX.
I. THE MANUFACTURE OF OBSIDIAN KNIVES, ETC. (_Note to p. 97._)
Some of the old Spanish writers on Mexico give a tolerably full account
of the manner in which the obsidian knives, &c., were made by the
Aztecs. It will be seen that it only modifies in one particular the
theory we had formed by mere inspection as to the way in which these
objects were made, which is given at p.97; that is, they were cracked
off by pressure, and not, as we conjectured, by a blow of some hard
substance.
Torquemada (_Monarquía Indiana, Seville_, 1615) says; (free
translation)
“They had, and still have, workmen who make knives of a certain black
stone or flint, which it is a most wonderful and admirable thing to see
them make out of the stone; and the ingenuity which invented this art
is much to be praised. They are made and got out of the stone (if one
can explain it) in this manner. One of these Indian workmen sits down
upon the ground, and takes a piece of this black stone, which is like
jet, and hard as flint, and is a stone which might be called precious,
more beautiful and brilliant than alabaster or jasper, so much so that
of it are made tablets[25] and mirrors. The piece they take is about 8
inches long or rather more, and as thick as one’s leg or rather less,
and cylindrical; they have a stick as large as the shaft of a lance,
and 3 cubits or rather more in length; and at the end of it they fasten
firmly another piece of wood, 8 inches long, to give more weight to
this part; then, pressing their naked feet together, they hold the
stone as with a pair of pincers or the vice of a carpenter’s bench.
They take the stick (which is cut off smooth at the end) with both
hands, and set it well home against the edge of the front of the stone
(_y ponenlo avesar con el canto de la frente de la piedra_) which also
is cut smooth in that part; and then they press it against their
breast, and with the force of the pressure there flies off a knife,
with its point, and edge on each tide, as neatly as if one were to make
them of a turnip with a sharp knife, or of iron in the fire. Then they
sharpen it on a stone, using a hone to give it a very fine edge; and in
a very short time these workmen will make more than twenty knives in
the aforesaid manner. They come out of the same shape as our barbers’
lancets, except that they have a rib up the middle, and have a slight
graceful curve towards the point. They will cut and shave the hair the
first time they are used, at the first cut nearly as well as a steel
razor, but they lose their edge at the second cut; and so, to finish
shaving one’s beard or hair, one after another has to be used; though
indeed they are cheap, and spoiling them is of no consequence. Many
Spaniards, both regular and secular clergy, have been shaved with them,
especially at the beginning of the colonization of these realms, when
there was no such abundance as now of the necessary instruments, and
people who gain their livelihood by practising this occupation. But I
conclude by saying that it is an admirable thing to see them made, and
no small argument for the capacity of the men who found out such an
invention.”
[25] In the original, _aras_. In the Latin of Hernandez, _arae_ I
suppose to be the little polished stone slabs which are set on the
altars in Roman Catholic churches, and in which their sacred quality
is, so to speak, contained.
Vetancurt (_Teatro Mejicano_) gives an account, taken from the above.
Hernandez (_Rerum Med. Nov. Hisp. Thes.: Rome_, 1631) gives a similar
account of the process. He compares the wooden instrument used to a
cross-bow. It was evidently a T-shaped implement, and the workman held
the cross-piece with his two hands against his breast, while the end of
the straight stick rested on the stone. He furthermore gives a
description of the making of the well-known _maquahuitl_, or Aztec
war-club, which was armed on both sides with a row of obsidian knives,
or teeth, stuck into holes with a kind of gum. With this instrument, he
says, a man could be cut in half at a blow—an absurd statement, which
has been repeated by more modern writers.
II. ON THE SOLAR ECLIPSES RECORDED IN THE LE TELLIER MS.
The curious Aztec Picture-writing, known as the _Codex
Telleriano-Remenensis_, preserved in the Royal Library of Paris,
contains a list or calendar of a long series of years, indicated by the
ordinary signs of the Aztec system of notation of cycles of years.
Below the signs of the years are a number of hieroglyphic pictures,
conveying the record of remarkable events which happened in them, such
as the succession and death of kings, the dates of wars, pestilences,
&c. The great work of Lord Kingsborough, which contains a fac-simile of
this curious document, reproduces also an ancient interpretation of the
matters contained in it, evidently the work of a person who not only
understood the interpretation of the Aztec picture-writings, but had
access to some independent source of information,—probably the more
ample oral traditions, for the recalling of which the picture-writing
appears only to have served as a sort of artificial memory. It is not
necessary to enter here into a fuller description of the MS., which has
also been described by Humboldt and Gallatin.
Among the events recorded in the Codex are four eclipses of the sun,
depicted as having happened in the years 1476, 1496, 1507. 1510.
Humboldt, in quoting these dates, makes a remark to the effect that the
record tends to prove the veracity of the Aztec history, for solar
eclipses really happened in those years, according to the list in the
well-known chronological work, _L’Art de Vérifier les Dates_, as
follows: 28 Feb., 1476; 8 Aug., 1496; 13 Jan., 1507; 8 May, 1510. The
work quoted, however, has only reference to eclipses visible in Europe,
Asia, and Africa, and not to those in America. The question therefore
arises, whether all these four eclipses recorded in _L’Art de Vérifier
les Dates_, were visible in Mexico. As to the last three, I have no
means of answering the question; but it appears that Gama, a Mexican
astronomer of some standing, made a series of calculations for a
totally distinct purpose about the end of the last century, and found
that in 1476 _there was no eclipse of the sun visible in Mexico_, but
that there was a great one on the 13th Feb., 1477, and another on the
28th May, 1481.
Supposing that Gama made no mistake in his calculations, the idea at
once suggests itself, that the person who compiled or copied the Le
Tellier Codex, some few years after the Spanish Conquest of Mexico,
inserted under the date of 1476 (long before the time of the Spaniards)
an eclipse which could not have been recorded there had the document
been a genuine Aztec Calendar; _as, though visible in Europe, it was
not visible in Mexico_. The supposition of the compiler having merely
inserted this date from a European table of eclipses is strengthened by
the fact that _the great eclipse of 1477, which was visible in Mexico,
but not in Europe, is not to be found there_. These two facts tend to
prove that the Codex, though undoubtedly in great part a copy or
compilation from genuine native materials, has been deliberately
sophisticated with a view of giving it a greater appearance of
historical accuracy, by some person who was not quite clever enough to
do his work properly. It may, however, be urged as a proof that the
mistake is merely the result of carelessness, that we find in the MS.
no notice of the eclipse of 25th May, 1481, which was visible both in
Mexico and in Europe, and so ought to have been in the record. This
supposition would be consistent with the Codex being really a document
in which the part relating to the events before the Spanish Conquest in
1521 is of genuine ancient and native origin, though the whole is
compiled in a very grossly careless manner. It would be very desirable
to verify the years of all the four eclipses with reference to their
being visible in Mexico, as this might probably clear up the
difficulty.
III. TABLE OK AZTEC ROOTS COMPARED WITH SANSCRIT, ETC.
Several lists of Aztec words compared with those of various
Indo-European languages have been given by philologists. The present is
larger than any I have met with; several words in it are taken from
Buschmann’s work on the Mexican languages. It is desirable in a
philological point of view that comparative lists of words of this kind
should be made, even when, as in the present instance, they are not of
sufficient extent to found any theory upon.
As the Aztec alphabet does not contain nearly all the Sanscrit
consonants, many of them must be compared with the nearest Aztec
sounds, as:
SANSCRIT, t, th, d, dh, &c. AZTEC, t.
SANSCRIT, k, kh, g, gh, &c. AZTEC c. q.
SANSCRIT, l, r. AZTEC, l.
SANSCRIT, b, bh, v. AZTEC, v. or u.
The Aztec c is soft (as s) before e and i, hard (as k) before a, o, u.
The Aztec ch as in _cheese_. I have followed Molina’s orthography in
writing such words as _uel_ or _vel_ (English, _well_) instead of the
more modern, but I think less correct way, _huel_.
1. a-, _negative prefix_ (_as_ qualli, _good_; aqualli, _bad_). SANS.,
a-; GREEK, a-, &c.
2. o-, _preterite augment_ (_as_ nitemachtia, _I teach_; onitemachti,
_I taught_); SANS., a-; compare GREEK ε-.
3. pal, _prep. by_: compare SANS. _prep._, para, _back_; pari,
_circum_; pra, _before_; GREEK, παρα; LAT., per.
4. ce-, cen-, cem-, _prefix collective_ (_as_ tlalla, _to place_,
centlalla, _to collect_); SANS., sa-, san-, sam-; GREEK, συν; LAT.,
syn.
5. ce, cen-, cem-, _one_. SANS., sa (_in_ sa-krit, _once_: comp. Bopp,
Gloss., p. 362.) LAT., se-_mel_, si-_mul_, sim-_plex_.
6. metz (metz-tli), _moon_. SANS., mas.
7. tlal (tlal-li), _earth_. SANS., tala, dhara. LAT., terra, tellus.
8. citlal (citlal-in), _star_. SANS., stri, stâra. LAT., stella. Eng.,
star.
9. atoya (atoya-tl), _river_. SANS., udya.
10. teuh (teuh-tli), _dust_. Sans., dhû-li (_from_ dhû, to drive
about.)
11. teo (teo-tl), _god_. Sans., deva. Greek, θεος. Lat., deus.
12. qual (qual-li), _good_. Sans., kalya, kalyâna. Greek, καλος.
13. uel, _well_. Sans., vara, _excellent_; vli, _to choose_. Lat.,
velle. Icel., vel. Eng., well.
14. uel, _power, brave, &c_., (uel-e, tla-uel-e.) Sans., bala,
_strength_. Lat., valeo, valor.
15. auil, _vicious, wasteful_. Sans., âvila, _sinful, guilty;_ abala,
_weak_. Eng., evil.
16. miec, _much_. Sans., mahat, _great_; manh _or_ mah, _to grow_.
Icel., miok, _much_. Eng., much.
17. vey, _great_. Sans., bahu, _much_.
18. -pol, _augmentative affix_ (as tepe-tl. _mountain_; tepepol, _great
mountain_.) Sans., puru, _much_; pula, _great, ample_. Greek, πολυς.
19. naua (naua-c), _near, by the side of_. Sans., nah, _to join or
connect_. German, nah, _near_.
20. ten (ten-qui), _fuil_. Sans., tûn, _to fill_.
21. izta (izta-c), _white_. Sans., sita.
22. cuz (cuz-tic), _red_. Sans, kashãya, kasãya.
23. ta (ta-tli), _father_. Sans., tãta.
24. cone (cone-tl), _child. Compare_ Sans., jan, _to beget_. Lat.,
gen-itus. German, kin-d. Eng., kin.
25. pil (pil-li), _child. Compare_ Sans., bâla, _boy, child_; bhri, _to
bear children_, &c. Greek, πωλος, _foal_. Lat., pullus, filius. Eng.,
_foal_, &c., &c.
26. cax (cax-itl), _cup_. Sans., chasbaka.
27. paz(?)(a-paz-tli), _vase, basin_. Sans., bajana. _Compare_ Lat.,
vas. Eng., vase.
28. com (com-itl), _earthen pot_. Sans., kumbha.
29. xuma (xuma-tli), _spoon_. Sans., chamasa; _from_ Sans., cham, _to
eat_.
30. mich (mich-in), _fish_. Sans., machcha.
31. zaca (zaca-tl), _grass_. Sans., sâka.
32. col (te-col-li, col-ceuia, &c.), _charcoal_. Sans., jval, _to burn,
flame_; Icel., kol; Eng., coal; Irish, gual.
33. cen (cen-tli), _grain, maize_. Sans., kana, _grain_.
34. ehe (ehe-catl), _wind_. Sans., vâyu.
35. mix (mix-tli), _cloud_. Sans., megha; Icel., and Eng., mist.
36. cal (cal-ii), _house_. Sans., sâlâ. Greek, καλια; Lat., cella.
37. qua (qua-itl), _head_. Sans., ka.
38. ix (ix-tli), _eye, face_. Sans., aksha, _eye_; âsya, _face_.
39. can (can-tli), _cheek_, Sans., ganda; Lat., gena.
40. chichi (chichi-tl), _teat_. Sans., chuchuka.
41. nene (nene-tl), _pupil of eye_. Sans., nayanâ.
42. choloa, _to run or leap_. Sans., char.
43. caqui (caqui-ztli), _sound_. Sans., kach, _to sound_.
44. xin (xi-xin-ia), _to cut, ruin, destroy_. Sans., ksin, _to hurt,
kill._
45. tlacç (tlacç-ani), _to run_. Sans., triks, _to go_; Greek, τρεχω.
46. patlani, _to fly_. Sans., pat.
47. mati, _to know_. Sans., medh, _to understand_; mati, _thought,
mind_; Greek root μαθ.
48. it (it-ta), _to see_. Sans., vid; Greek root ιδ, ειδομαι, &c.;
Lat., video.
49. meya, _to flow, trickle_. Sans., mih.
50. mic (mic-tia), _to kill_. Sans., mi, mith.
51. cuica, _to sing_. Sans., kûj. _to sing, as birds_, &c.
52. chichi _to suck_. SANS., chûsh.
53. ahnachia, _to sprinkle_: _compare_ SANS. uks.
54. coton (coton-a), _to cut_. SANS. kutt.
55. nex (nex-tia), _to shine_. SANS, nad; LAT., niteo.
55. notz (notz-a), _to call_. SANS., nad.
57. choc (choc-a), _to lament, cry_. SANS, kuch, _to cry aloud,
scream;_ such, _to wail_.
58. me(?)(in me-catl, _binding-thing, chain?) to bind_ SANS., mû, mava.
59. qua, _to eat, bite_: compare SANS. charv, _to chew, bite, gnaw_;
chah, _to bruize_; khad, _to eat_.; GERMAN, kauen; ENG., to chew.
60. te, _thou_. SANS. tvam; LAT., tu.
61. quen, _how?_ SANS. kena.
_Other curious resemblances between the Aztec and European languages
are_:
62. pepeyol, _poplar_. LAT., populus; ICEL., popel.
63. papal (papal-otl), _butterfly_; LAT., papilio.
64. ul (ul-li), _juice of the India-rubber tree, used as oil for
anointing, &c._ LAT., oleum; ENG., oil, &c.
IV. GLOSSARY.
ANAHUAC. _Aztec_. “By the water-side.” The name at first applied to the
Valley of Mexico, from the situation of the towns on the banks of the
lakes; afterwards used to denote a great part of the present Republic
of Mexico.
ACOCOTE (_Aztec_, acocotl, water-throat), aloe-sucker’s gourd; _see p._
91.
ADOBE, a mud-brick, baked in the sun. (Perhaps a _Moorish-Spanish_
word. _Ancient Egyptian_, tobe, a mud-brick; _Arabic_, toob, pronounced
with the article _at-toob_, whence adobe?)
AGUAMIEL (honey-water), unfermented aloe-juice.
AGUARDIENTE (burning-water), ardent spirits.
AHUEHUETE (_Aztec_, ahuehuetl), the deciduous cypress.
ALAMEDA (poplar-avenue), public promenade; _see p._ 57.
ALCALDE, a magistrate (_Moorish-Spanish_, al cadi, “the cadi”).
ANQUERA (hauncher), covering for horses’ haunches; _see p._ 164 (_and
cut, p._ 260).
ARRIERO, a muleteer.
ARROYO, a rivulet, mountain-torrent.
ATAMBOB, a drum.
ATOLE (_Aztec_, atolli), porridge.
AVERSADA, a freshet.
BARATILLO, a Rag-fair, market of odds and ends; _see p._ 169.
BARBACOA, whence English “barbecue;” _see p._ 95; a native Haitian
word.
BARRANCCA, a ravine.
CALZONCILLOS, drawers.
CAPA, a cloak.
CAYO, a coral-reef.
CHAPARREROS, over-trousers of goatskin with the hair on, used in
riding.
CHINAMPA (_Aztec_, “a place fenced in),” a Mexican “floating garden;”
_see p._ 62.
CHINGUERITO, Indian-corn brandy.
CHIPI-CHIPI (_Aztec_, chipini, drizzling rain); _see p._ 26.
CHUPA-MIRTO (myrtle-sucker), a humming-bird.
COLEAR, to throw a bull over by the tail (cola); _see p._ 71.
COMPADRE. COMADRE; _French_, compère, commère; _see p._ 250.
CORRAL, an enclosure for cattle.
COSTAL, a bag, or sack.
COYOTE (_Aztec_, coyotl), a jackal.
CUARTA, a leather horse-whip; _see_ p. 264.
CUARTEL, a barrack.
CUCARACHA, a cockroach.
CUCHILLO, a knife.
CURA, a parish-priest.
DESAGUE, a draining-cut.
DESAYUNO, breakfast.
EMANCIPADO (emancipated negro); see p. 6.
ESCOPETA, a musket.
ESCRIBANO, a scribe or secretary.
FANDANGO, a dance.
FIESTA, a church-festival.
FRIJOLES, beans.
FUERO, a legal privilege; _see pp._ 19, 249.
GACHUPIN, a native of Spain. Supposed to be an Aztec epithet,
_cac-chopina_, that is, “prickly shoes,” applied to the Spanish
conquerors from their wearing spurs, which to the Indians were strange
and incomprehensible appendages.
GARROTE, an instrument for strangling criminals.
GENTE DE RAZÓN (reasonable people), white men and half-breed Mexicans,
but not Indians;_ see p._ 61.
GUAJALOTE (Aztec, huexolotl), a turkey: _see p._ 228.
GULCHE, a ravine.
HACENDADO, a planter, landed proprietor, from HACIENDA (literally
“doing,” from _hacer_, or _facer_, to do). An estate, establishment,
&c.
HACIENDA DE BENEFICIO, an establishment for “benefiting” silver, i.e.,
for extracting it from the ore.
HONDA, a sling.
HORNITOS (little ovens), the small cones near the volcano of Jorullo,
which formerly emitted steam; see p. 92.
HULE (_Aztec, _ ulli. India-rubber?) a waterproof coat.
ICHTL (_Aztec, _ thread), thread or string of aloe-fibre.
ITZTLI (Aztec), obsidian; _see_ p. 100.
LAZADOR, one who throws the lazo.
LAZO. a running noose.
LEPERO, lazzarone, or prolétaire; _see p._ 251.
LLANOS, plains.
MACHETE, a kind of bill-hook.
MALACATE (_Aztec, _ malacatl), a spindle, spindle-head, windlass, &c.
MANTA, cotton-cloth.
MATRACA, a rattle; _see p._ 49.
MESON, a Mexican caravansery; _see p._ 209.
MESTIZO (mixtus) a Mexican of mixed Spanish and Aztec blood.
METATE (_Aztec_, metlatl) the stone used for rubbing down Indian corn
into paste; see p. 88.
METALPILE (_Aztec_, metlapilli, i.e. little metlatl), the stone
rolling-pin used in the same process.
MOLE (_Aztec, _ mulli), Mexican stew.
MOLINO DE VIENTO (literally a windmill), a whirlwind; _see p._ 31.
MONTE (literally a mountain), the favourite Mexican game; _see p. _256.
MOZO, a lad, servant, groom.
NIÑO, a child.
NOPAL (_Aztec_, nopalli), the prickly pear.
NOETE, the north wind; see p. 21.
OCOTE (_Aztec_, ocotl), a pine-tree, pine-torch. OLLA, a boiling-pot.
PASADIZO, a passage; _see p._ 231.
PASEO, a public promenade.
PASO, a kind of amble; _see p._ 163.
PATIO, a court-yard, especially the inner court of a house.
PATIO-PROCESS, method of extracting the silver from the ore, so called
from its being carried on in paved yards; _see p. _92.
PATRON, a master, landlord.
PEDRIGAL, a lava-field.
PEOS, a debt-slave; _see_ p. 291.
PETATE (_Aztec_, petlatl), a palm-leaf mat.
PITO, 1, a whistle, pipe; 2, aloe-fibre thread.
POTRERO, a water-meadow.
PULQUE, a drink made from the juice of the aloe; _see_ p. 38. (It is a
corruption of a native South American word, introduced into Mexico by
the Spaniards).
RANCHERO, a cottager, yeoman.
RANCHO, a hut.
RAYA (literally a line), the paying of workmen at a hacienda, &c.
RAYAR, to pull a horse up short at a line; _see_ p. 163.
REATA, a horse-rope; _see_ p. 264.
REBOZO, a woman’s shawl; _see_ p. 56.
RECUA, a train of mules.
SALA, a hall, dining-room.
SERAPE, a Mexican blanket; _see_ p. 169.
SOMBRERO, a hat.
TACUMENILES, pine-shingles for roofing.
TEMAZCALLI, Indian vapour-bath; _see_ p. 301.
TEOCALLI (_Aztec_, god’s house), an Aztec pyramid-temple.
TEFONAZTLI, Indian wooden drum.
TEQUESQUITE (_Aztec_, tequesquiti), an alkaline efflorescence abundant
on the soil in Mexico, used for soap-making, &c.
TETZONTLI, porous amygdaloid lava, a stone much used for building in
Mexico.
TIENDA, a shop; _see_ p. 82.
TIERRA CALIENTE, the hot region.
TIERRA FRÍA, the cold region.
TIERRA TEMPLADA. the temperate region.
TLACHIQUEBO (_Aztec_, tlacbiqui, an overseer, from tlachia, to see), a
labourer in an aloe-field, who draws the juice for pulque; _see_ p. 36.
TORO, a bull.
TORTA (literally, a cake); _see_ p. 92.
TORTILLAS, thin cakes made of Indian corn, resembling oat-cakes; _see_
p. 33.
TRAPICHE, a sugar-mill.
ULEI, _see_ Hule.
VAQUERO, cow-herd.
ZOPILOTE (_Aztec_, zopilotl), a turkey-buzzard.
V. DESCRIPTION OF THREE VERY RARE SPECIMENS OF ANCIENT MEXICAN
MOSAIC-WORK (IN THE COLLECTION OF HENRY CHRISTY, ESQ.).
These Specimens, two Masks and a Knife, (_see_ _page_ 101.) are
interesting as presenting examples of higher art than has been supposed
to have been attained to by the ancient Mexicans, or any other of the
native American peoples. Their distinctive feature is an incrustation
of Mosaic of Turquoise, cut and polished, and fitted with extreme
nicety,—a work of great labour, time, and cost in any country, and
especially so amongst a people to whom the use of iron was unknown,—and
carried out with a perfection which suggests the idea that the art must
have been long practised under the fostering of wealth and power,
although so few examples of it have come down to us.
Although considerably varied, they are all three of one family of work,
so to speak; the predominant feature being the use of turquoise; and
the question which presents itself at the outset is—what are the
evidences that this unique work is of Aztec origin?
The proofs are so interwoven with the style and structure of the
specimens that their appearance and nationality are best treated of
together.
The Mask of wood is covered with minute pieces of turquoise—cut and
polished, accurately fitted, many thousands in number, and set on a
dark gum or cement. The eyes, however, are acute-oval patches of
mother-of-pearl; and there are two small square patches of the same on
the temples, through which a string passed to suspend the mask; and the
teeth are of hard white shell. The eyes are perforated, and so are the
nostrils, and the upper and lower teeth are separated by a transverse
chink; thus a wearer of the mask (which sits easily on one’s face) can
see, breathe, and speak with ease. The features bear that remarkably
placid and contemplative expression which distinguishes so many of the
Aztec works, in common with those of the Egyptians, whether in their
massive stone sculptures, or in the smallest and commonest heads of
baked earth. The face, which is well-proportioned, pleasing, and of
great symmetry, is studded also with numerous projecting pieces of
turquoise, rounded and polished.
In addition to the character of the work and the style of face, the
evidence of the Aztec origin of this mask is confirmed by the wood
being of the fragrant cedar or cypress of Mexico. It may be remarked
also that the inside is painted red, as are the wooden masks of the
Indians of the North-west coast of America at the present day.
The Knife presents, both in form and substance, more direct evidence of
its Aztec origin; for, in addition to its incrustation with the unique
mosaic of turquoise, blended (in this case) with malachite and white
and red shell, its handle is sculptured in the form of a crouching
human figure, covered with the skin of an eagle, and presenting the
well-known and distinctive Aztec type of the human head issuing from
the mouth of an animal. (_See cut_, p. 101.) Beyond this there is in
the stone blade the curious fact of a people which had attained to so
complex a design and such an elaborate ornamentation remaining in the
Stone-age; and, somewhat curiously, the locality of that stone blade is
fixed, by its being of that semi-transparent opalescent calcedony which
Humboldt describes as occurring in the volcanic districts of Mexico—the
concretionary silex of the trachytic lavas.
The second Mask is yet more distinctive. The incrustation of
turquoise-mosaic is placed on the forehead, face, and jaws of a human
skull, the back part of which has been cut away to allow of its being
hung, by the leather thongs which still remain, over the face of an
idol, as was the custom in Mexico thus to mask their gods on
state-occasions. The mosaic of turquoise is interrupted by three broad
transverse bands, on the forehead, face, and chin, of a mosaic of
obsidian, similarly cut (but in larger pieces) and highly polished,—a
very unusual treatment of this difficult and intractable material, the
use of which in any artistic way appears to have been confined to the
Aztecs (with the exception, perhaps, of the Egyptians).
The eye-balls are nodules of iron-pyrites, cut hemispherically and
highly polished, and are surrounded by circles of hard white shell,
similar to that forming the teeth of the wooden mask.
The Aztecs made their mirrors of iron-pyrites polished, and are the
only people who are known to have put this material to ornamental use.
The mixture of art, civilization, and barbarism which the hideous
aspect of this green and black skull-mask presents accords with the
condition of Mexico at the time of the Conquest, under which human
sacrifices on a gigantic scale were coincident with much refinement in
arts and manners.
The European history of these three specimens is somewhat curious. With
the exception of two in the Museum at Copenhagen, obtained many years
ago by Professor Thomsen from a convent in Rome, and, though greatly
dilapidated, presenting some traces of the game kind of ornamentation,
they are believed to be unique.
The Wooden Mask and the Knife were long known in a collection at
Florence. Thirty years ago the mask was brought into England from that
city, as Egyptian: and, somewhat later, the knife was obtained from
Venice.
Subsequently the Skull-mask, with a wig of hair said to be a scalp, was
found at Bruges; a locality which leads to the presumption that the
mask was brought from Mexico soon after the Conquest in 1521, and prior
to the expulsion of the Spaniards from Flanders consequent on the
revolt of the Low Countries in 1579.
_Note_.—It happens singularly enough, that a curious old work,
_Aldrorandus, Musaeum Metallicum, Bologna_, 1613, contains drawings of
a knife and wooden mask ornamented with mosaic-work of stone, made just
in the came way as those described above, and only differing from them
in the design. What became of them I cannot tell.
VI. DASENT’S ESSAY ON THE ETHNOGRAPHICAL VALUE OF POPULAR TALES AND
LEGENDS.
Whilst treating of legendary lore in connection with Ethnographry, we
must not forget to refer the reader to the highly useful and
philosophical remarks on this subject in Dasent’s Introduction to his
_Popular Tales from the Norse_.[26] Here we see that not only are the
popular tales of any nation indicative of its early condition and its
later progress, but also that the legends, fables, and tales of the
Indo-European nations, at least, bear internal evidence of their having
grown out of a few simple notes—of having sprung from primæval germs
originating with the old Aryan family, from whom successive migrations
carried away the original myth to be elaborated or degraded according
to the genius and habits of the people.
[26] _Popular Tales from the Norse_. (Translated from Asbjörnsen and
Moe’s Collection.) By George Webbe Dasent, D.C.L. With an Introductory
Essay on the Origin and Diffusion of Popular Tales.—_Second Edition,
Edinburgh_: 1859.
Thus other means of resolving the relations of the early races of Man
are added to those previously afforded by ethnographical and
philological research.
INDEX.
Account-keeping, 87.
Acodada, 57.
Africans and Chinese, 13.
Agriculture, 26, 61, 63, 89, 157-161, 172, 216.
Ahuehuetes, 57, 155, 215, 265.
Alameda, 57.
Alluvial Deposits, 150.
Aloes, 35, 136; huts built of, 36.
Aloe-fibre, manufacture of, 88.
Aloe-juice, collected for Pulque, 36, 91.
Amatlan, 299.
Amecameca, 265.
American War, 118-120.
Amozoque, 295.
Anahuac, 57, 270.
Antiquities, collections of, 222-236, 262.
Antonio, our man, 321.
Ants, 8.
Aqueduct of Chapultepec, 55.
Arch, Aztec, 153, 276.
Armadillo, 312, 319, 325.
Arms of Mexico, 42.
Army, Mexican, 114-119.
Arrow-heads, 137.
Art, Aztec, 186, 230, 316.
Astronomy, Aztec, 237-241, 244.
Atotonilco, 82, 85.
Aztec Antiquities, 35, 137, 141-148, 150-156, 183-195, 222-244,
262-264, 274-280.
Aztec Civilization, 103.
Aztec Language, 143, 227, 235, 243, 279, 333.
Bananas, 178.
Baratillo, 169-171.
Barometer, height of, 68.
Barrancas, 89, 179, 310, 313.
Barricades, 55.
Batabano, 3.
Baths of Santa Fé, 7.
Bells, ancient, 235.
Bits, 167.
Books, 124.
Bronze-age, 139.
Bronze,
stone-cutting with, 138-140;
hatchets, 225;
bells and needles, 235.
Bull-fights, 70.
Bull-dogs in Mexico, 149.
Bull, lazoing the, 253, 323.
Cacahuamilpán, 200-205.
Cacao-beans, 227.
Cactuses, 73, 90, 140, 144.
Calendar-stone of Mexico, 237-240.
Canals, 58, 130.
Canoes, 60, 129, 132, 134.
Capitalists, 295.
Cascade of Regla, 93.
Castor-oil plant, 9.
Casa Grande, 77, 135.
Cattle, 16, 31, 323.
Cave of Cacahuamilpán, 203-205.
Central American Antiquities, 189-193.
Cerro de Navajas, 95-100.
Chalco,
Canal of, 58;
Lake, 173;
Chalma, 208-214.
Chapultepec, 55, 57.
Chinampas, 62.
Chinese in Cuba, 12.
Chipi-chipi, 26.
Cholula, 274-278.
Church, the, 113, 213, 285-290.
Church-dances, 211.
Churches in Mexico, 36, 46.
Civil-war, 112, 283, 328.
Cigar-making, 3.
Clergy of Mexico, 7, 79, 287.
Clay figures, 229, 275.
Coach, old-fashioned, 59.
Cochineal-insect, 24.
Cockfighting, 254, 256.
Cockroaches, 325.
Cocoyotla, 196.
Colearing, 71.
Columbus, 4.
Comonfort, President, 19, 112.
Compadrazgo, 250.
Commerce of Mexico, 105.
Convents in Mexico, 46, 287.
Convicts, 22.
Cordova, 25.
Corrida de Toros, 70.
Costumes, 51, 62, 168.
Courier, 167, 310.
Criminals, 245-249.
Cuba, 2.
Cuernavaca, 179.
Cura of New Gerona, 9.
Cypress-trees, 57, 155, 215, 265.
Dancing, 207, 211.
Dasent on Popular Legends, &c., 339.
Debt-slavery, 291.
Diligence, travelling by, 37, 173.
Dishonesty of Mexicans, 80-82.
Dram-drinking, 83.
Dress of the Indians, 61.
Drums, 231.
Earthquakes, 66.
Eclipses observed in Mexico, 333.
Education, 125-128.
Emancipados, 6, 14.
English in Mexico, 73, 318.
Estación de Méjico, 121.
Ethnology, 17, 102-104, 187-195, 241-244, 276-280.
Evaporation, rapid, 75.
Feather-work, 70.
Flies’ eggs, 156.
Floating gardens, 62.
Flooded streets, 65.
Florida, free blacks from, 5, 10-12.
Forests, destruction of by Spaniards, 45.
Fueros, 19.
Future of Mexico, 329.
Gambling, 15, 207, 256-258, 320.
Glass-works, 135.
Glossary, 335.
Goddess of War, 222.
Gold and Silver work, 234.
Gourd-bottles, 171.
Grove of Cypresses, 57.
Guadalupe (Our Lady of), 66, 120-224.
Hams, Toluca, 219.
Havana, 1, 326.
Hedges of Cactus, 73.
Highlands of Mexico, 35.
Hill of Drums, 215.
Holy Week, 47-54.
Horse-bath, 290.
Horses, 163-165, 317.
Hotel d’Yturbide, 39.
Houses, 25, 36, 91, 135, 172; built on piles, 41.
Huamantla, 31.
Huehuetoca, draining-cut of, 45.
Humming-birds, 69.
Indian Baptism, 207.
Indian Ointment, 324.
Indians of Mexico, 47,60-64, 80-88, 173, 182, 197-199, 200-208,
299-309, 314-316.
Indian Soldiers, 23, 120, 122.
Indulgences, 52, 124.
Inquisition, the, 128.
Insects, 319.
Intemperance, 47, 83, 307.
Inundations, 44, 65, 123.
Iron, 102, 140.
Irrigation, 86, 157-161, 179.
Isle of Pines, 4.
Iztaccihnatl, 268.
Jacal, Mount, 95.
Jalapa, 317-321.
Jorullo, 92.
Judas, 50.
Judas’s Bones, 49.
Junta, La, 314.
Justice, Administration of, 246-248, 300.
Lakes in Valley of Mexico, 44-46, 65, 130-134, 173.
Lava-fields, 28, 35, 118.
Law-courts of Mexico, 249.
Lazoing, 71, 252-254, 323.
Legends, 236, 276-279, 340.
Leper Hospital, 251.
Leperos, 251.
Lerma, 219.
Le Tellier MS., on Eclipses, 332.
Loadstone mountain, 102.
Locusts, 298.
Lonja, 66.
Machinery in Mexico, 109.
Magnetic Iron-ore, 102.
Manufacture of Obsidian Knives, 97, 331.
Marble Quarries in the Isle of Pines, 6.
Market, Indian, 85, 89.
Martin, our servant, 273, 321.
Masks, 110, 226, 235, 337.
Matracas, 49.
Mestizos, 48, 61, 300.
Metate, 88.
Mexican Dishes, 51;
Ladies, 51;
Words, 227, 263.
Mexican Police, 149;
War with United States, 118.
Mexico, City of, 41-44, 111;
Old, 147;
Formation of the country of, 27;
Future of, 329;
People of, 55;
Valley of, 40-46, 270.
Military Statistics, 115.
Miners, 79, 258.
Miraflores, 264.
Minería, or School of Mines, 47.
Mirage, 30.
Mongolian Calendar, 241.
Monks, 205, 209, 213.
Morals of Servitude, 81, 293.
Mosaic work, 101, 110, 235.
Mosquitos, 5, 325.
Mules, Mexican, 175.
Museum of Mexico, 222-237.
Negress, white, 323.
Negros in Mexico, 13, 323.
Nevado de Toluca, 219.
Nopals, Plantations of, 24.
Nopalucán, 296.
Nortes, 21, 23.
Nuestra Señora de Remedies, 121.
Nueva Gerona, 4, 8.
Numerals, Mexican, &c., 107-110.
Obsidian, mines of, 95, 99; knives, &c., 95-102, 137, 229, 331.
Oculan, 215.
Old Mexico, 147;
Baths near Tezcuco, 153;
Bridge near Tezcuco, 153.
Organ-cactus, 73.
Orizaba, town of, 26; volcano of, 18, 29, 226.
Ornament, common styles of, 185.
Pachuca, 69, 74.
Palma Christi, 9.
Paseo, or Alameda, 57.
Passport-system (Cuba), 3.
Peñón de los Baños, 131.
Peons, 291-294.
People of Mexico, 55.
Picture-writings, 104, 130, 232-234.
Pintos, 309.
Pirates of the Spanish Main, 5.
Ploughing, 172.
Police, Mexican, 149.
Political Economy, 105, 217, 264, 294, 302-309, 328.
Politics of Mexico, 19, 111-118, 282-284, 290, 328.
Popocatepetl, ascent of, 265-273.
Population, 217, 302-309.
Potrero, 307.
Pottery, 85, 88, 151, 226, 275.
Priests, 9, 79, 285-290.
Prisons, 244-248.
Promenade of Las Vigas, 64.
Protective duties, 104, 264.
Puebla, 113, 281-291.
Pulque, 35, 37, 91.
Pulque-shops, 63.
Pyramids, 43, 141-148, 190, 274-278.
Quarries in the Isle of Pines, 6; of obsidian, 99; of Teotihuacán, 137.
Rag-fair in Mexico, 169.
Railway, 2, 24, 121.
Rain, 136, 266.
Rainy Region, 26.
Ranches, 25, 266, 299.
Rattles, 49.
Real del Monte, 77.
Rebozo, 56.
Reform in Mexico, 117.
Regla, 78; cascade of, 93.
Revolutions, 20, 114, 282-284.
Roads in Mexico, 29, 37, 76.
Robbers, 32, 117, 170, 297;
Priest-captain of, 34.
Sacred trees, 215, 265.
Sacrifice of Spaniards, 145.
Sacrificial
Clamps, 225;
Stone, 223.
Saddles, &c., 162-167.
St. Thomas’s, W. Indies, 327.
Salinas of Campeche, 84.
Saline condition of the soil, 133.
Salt, 83, 154.
Salt-pans, 155.
Salto del Agua, 55.
Sand-pillars, 30.
San Andrés Chalchicomula, 312.
San Antonio de Abajo, 296.
San José and Earthquakes, 67.
San Nícolas, 272.
Santa Anita, 63.
Santa Maria de Guadalupe, 121.
Santa Rosita de Cocoyotla, 196.
Sardines, 87.
School of Mines, 47.
Scorpions, 319, 322.
Sculptures at Xochicalco, 185.
Serape, 169.
Sheep, 324.
Shrines of Xochicalco, 193.
Silver-mines, &c., 74, 92, 105, 107.
Siege & Capitulation of Puebla, 113, 282.
Sisal, 16.
Skull decorated with mosaic work, 337.
Slave-trade, 13, 16.
Smuggling, 273, 296.
Solar Eclipses observed in Mexico, 331.
Soldiers, 23, 114, 171.
Soquital, 82.
Spanish-moss, 57.
Spurs, 295.
Stalactitic Cave, 200.
Statistics of Mexico, 115, 249, 286.
Stone-hammers, 137.
Stone knives and weapons, 90, 103.
Streets of Mexico, 41, 55.
Sugar-canes, 179.
Sugar-hacienda, of Santa Rosita, 196; of Temisco, 180.
Sugar-plantations of Havana, 2.
Tacubaya, 57, 69.
Tallow, 324.
Tasco, Silver-mines at, 74.
Temisco, 179.
Temple-pyramids—_see_ Pyramids.
Tenancingo, 218.
Tenochtitlán, 41.
Ten Tribes, the, 17.
Teocallis, _see_ Pyramids.
Teotihuacán,
Pyramids of, 141-148;
Quarries of, 137, 141.
Tequesquite, 133.
Tezcotzinco, 152.
Tezcuco, 129, 150, 260-264;
Aztec Bridge at, 153.
Tezcuco, Lake of, 65, 129, 138.
Thieves, 52, 170, 245.
Tisapán, 118-120.
Toluca, 219.
Tortillas, 38.
Tropical Vegetation, 2, 24, 179.
Turkey-buzzards, 22.
Valley of Mexico, 45.
Yapour-bath, native, 301.
Vegetation, zones of, 21-27, 178, 216.
Vera Cruz, 18-21, 325.
Virjen de Remedios, 123.
Virgins, the rival, 123.
Volantes, 2.
War-idol, 222.
Water-bottles, 171.
Water-pipes, 157.
Xochimilco, Lake of, 173.
Xochicalco, Ruins of, 183-195.
Yucatan, 16.
Zopilites, 22.