DOWN THE _CUMBRES_.--A MONSTER LOCOMOTIVE.--MALTRATA.--EL BARRANCA DEL
INFERNILLO.--IN _THE TIERRA TEMPLADA_.--PEAK OF ORIZABA; HOW IT WAS
ASCENDED.--AN OLD AND QUAINT TOWN.--EXCURSIONS IN THE ENVIRONS OF
ORIZABA.--FALLS OF THE RINCON GRANDE.--MANUFACTURING INDUSTRIES.--CERRO
DEL BORREGO.--THE MEXICAN ARMY ROUTED.--CORDOBA.--HOW TO RUN A COFFEE
PLANTATION.--BARRANCA OF METLAC.--PASO DEL MACHO.--_TIERRA
CALIENTE_.--DRY LANDS NEAR THE SEA-COAST.--VERA CRUZ.--ZOPILOTES AND
THEIR USES.--YELLOW FEVER; ITS SEASONS AND PECULIARITIES.--NORTHERS AND
THEIR BENEFITS.
[Illustration: THE "PORTALES," OR COVERED WALKS.]
The plateau terminates suddenly at Boca del Monte, and here begins the
descent of the _cumbres_. At Esperanza the train exchanged the ordinary
locomotive for a monster one of great power; it looked like two
locomotives placed end to end with a tender between them, and was
specially built to take the trains over the extraordinary grades on this
part of the road. High speed was out of the question, or at all events
dangerous, and in descending the slope the train moved not faster than
fifteen miles an hour. The schedule time of the ascent is twelve miles
an hour, and the Brobdingnagian locomotive is taxed to the utmost of its
ability.
[Illustration: MAP OF RAILWAY BETWEEN CITY OF MEXICO AND VERA CRUZ.]
Frank learned from one of the officials of the road that there are no
fewer than 148 bridges between Vera Cruz and Mexico, and on the branch
to Puebla. These bridges are of various lengths, the longest being the
Puente de Soledad, which measures 742 feet. The longest of the tunnels
is 350 feet, and there are fifteen tunnels in all.
"Nowhere else in the world," wrote Frank, "have we seen finer
engineering work than on this railway. It reminded us of the railway
from Bombay to Poonah in India, the line from Colombo to Kandy in
Ceylon, and the Saint Gothard and Semmering railways in the Alps. We
looked down from dizzy heights where the train would have been ground to
atoms had it rolled from the track into the abysses below; we crept
along the edges of precipices, or in niches cut in perpendicular walls
of rock; we crossed deep chasms upon slender bridges; we darted into
tunnels in rapid succession, and swept around curves so sharp that it
seemed as though the brakeman on the rear of the train might have shaken
hands with the engine-driver. We looked into the beautiful Valley of
Maltrata, which lay spread far below us, a gem of floral and arboreal
beauty among the rugged hills; and we wound and turned among the
sinuosities of the track so that our locomotive faced to all points of
the compass a dozen times over in a single hour. In a direct distance of
two and a half miles, as the bird flies, the railway goes twenty miles;
looking down, we saw the track far beneath our level, and looking up we
could trace its zigzags along the slopes and precipices. It was the
railway passage of the Alps, the Caucasus, the Sierra Nevadas, the
Indian Ghauts, and the Blue Mountains of Australia all in one.
[Illustration: DOUBLE-ENDER LOCOMOTIVE ON MEXICAN RAILWAY.]
"We stopped a few minutes at the station of Maltrata, which is on an
artificial platform that was built up from the slope; it was originally
intended as a passing-point for the up and down trains, and for several
years after the completion of the line the daily trains each way met at
Maltrata. From this point onward the descent was as rapid as before; the
locomotive held the train back instead of pulling it, and the brakes
kept up a continual grinding against the wheels. We shuddered to think
what would have been the result if the brakes had given way and the
locomotive failed to restrain us. But in such an event our agony would
have been brief, as the whole business would have been ended in a few
minutes. They told us that once when a freight train was climbing the
mountain two of the rear wagons became detached and started down the
slope. Fortunately there was no one on these wagons to lose his life;
they jumped the track at one of the curves, and were dashed a thousand
feet or more down a steep hill-side into a rocky valley.
"A little distance below Maltrata we skirted one side of the Barranca
del Infernillo, a great chasm which made our heads swim as we looked
into it. Twelve miles from Maltrata we reached Orizaba, where we had
arranged to spend a day, and therefore we left the train as it drew up
at the station.
"We observed a change in the vegetation as we descended the slope; we
had left the _tierra fria_ behind us, and were now in the _tierra
templada_, or temperate region. The maguey and cactus gave way to darker
and richer verdure, which was certainly far more pleasing to the eye
than the scanty vegetation of the great plateau. Orizaba is 4000 feet
above sea-level, 181 miles from the capital of the republic, and
eighty-two from Vera Cruz. It has 20,000 inhabitants, and is a favorite
resort of the people of Vera Cruz in the hot and sickly season.
"We expected to have a fine view of the peak of Orizaba from the town of
the same name; but in this we were disappointed, as there is no part of
the great volcano visible from here, except a thin strip of white over
the top of a nearer and lower mountain; even this strip cannot be seen
from all parts of the town, but only by climbing to the roof of the
hotel or the tower of one of the churches.
"Doctor Bronson asked if we wished to ascend the peak of Orizaba; we
gave a prompt negative to his question, partly for the reason that his
plans would not permit us to stay here long enough, and partly because
the sensation was pretty well exhausted at Popocatepetl. The ascent is
quite as difficult as that of Old Popo; Orizaba is a beautiful peak,
shaped like a sugar-loaf, and wearing constantly a mantle of purest snow
upon its regular and beautiful cone. According to Humboldt, it is 17,378
feet high; a party of American officers ascended it in 1848; three years
later a Frenchman named Doignon followed their example, and found the
flagstaff they left there, with the torn fragments of the American flag
which marked their visit.
"There was a town here at the time of the Conquest, and Cortez left a
small garrison to hold it when he pushed on to Mexico. It has an
agreeable climate, the frequent rains and the mists from the Gulf
keeping it well moistened, so that the trees, plants, and green things
generally are in a high state of luxuriance. Coffee and tobacco are
grown here in large quantities. The town has quite a manufacturing
industry, and contains the repair and construction shops of the railway
company. We greatly enjoyed a stroll through the streets, which seemed
rather dull and sleepy after those of the capital. Most of the houses
are covered with red tiles, which give the city a very picturesque
appearance when it is looked upon from the heights surrounding it. Like
all old towns of Mexico, it has an abundant supply of churches, and the
inhabitants are mostly of the Catholic faith. Not many years ago it was
unsafe for a Protestant woman to appear on the streets wearing a hat or
bonnet of foreign make; she was liable to be pelted with mud and stones,
and her life was by no means out of danger. A milder feeling prevails at
present, and the old bigotry is steadily passing away.
[Illustration: VIEW OF ORIZABA.]
"We made a pleasant excursion in the environs of the city, which are
very attractive, owing to the luxuriance of the vegetation. Fields of
coffee, tobacco, sugar-cane, oranges, and bananas alternate with each
other and show the mildness of the climate of Orizaba; some of the
plantations are of great extent, and we received many invitations to
make a leisurely visit and spend whatever time we liked in their
examination.
"One of the sights of the place which we were told not to omit were the
falls of the Rincon Grande, about three miles from the city. We did not
omit the falls, and will always hold them in pleasant recollection. The
Rio de Agua Blanco, which supplied the water for the falls, is a deep
and swift stream coming from the mountains to the eastward of Orizaba.
Much of its course is through a deep cañon; but where the falls begin, a
part of the river flows along the surface of the mesa which forms one
side of the ravine, and breaks over the side to join the main stream
below.
"The fall is perhaps fifty feet from top to bottom, and a cloud of mist
rises like that from Niagara or Montmorency. Both sides of the fall are
bordered with a luxuriance of tropical verdure, rendered especially
luxuriant by the moisture from the plunging waters. The trees are
covered with bunches of Spanish moss, some of them several feet in
length, and by numerous parasitical plants, nearly all gaudy with
flowers. Some of the trees are so completely in the grasp of the
parasites that hardly anything of the original trunk or limbs can be
seen. They showed us one tree that had been killed by the parasites; the
wood had decayed and crumbled, and the vines were so thick where it had
stood that they remained erect as though unaware that their former
support had passed away.
"We saw the falls from above and also from below; and while both views
were interesting, each had an especial beauty of its own. The shrubbery
was so dense that we could walk only in the paths that had been cut for
the purpose; and the growth of vegetation is so rapid that these paths
require to be trimmed out several times a year. There is no possibility
of straying from the path, for the simple reason that it is impossible
to proceed in the dense undergrowth except by the aid of a _machete_.
Though at an elevation of 4000 feet above the sea, Orizaba has a
tropical climate; its location places it in the _tierra templada_, but
its temperature and characteristics would seem to include it in the
_tierra caliente_. And not only its temperature but its mosquitoes give
it a tropical character, as they are of the kind with which the
traveller in equatorial regions has a disagreeable familiarity.
[Illustration: THE RIVER AT ORIZABA.]
"There's a pretty river flowing through Orizaba, and it is useful to the
inhabitants in many ways. When we saw it there was not much water in its
bed, but they tell us that at some periods it is a rushing torrent of
great force and volume. It turns several mills, and is the resort of the
women whose duty it is to cleanse the soiled linen of the rest of the
inhabitants. Laundry-work here is about as it is in the rest of Mexico,
and the rough handling of shirts and other garments by the lavanderas
converts them into rags in a very short time. This is good for the
cotton-factories of Orizaba, which turn out a fair quality of goods, but
are said to be unprofitable for their owners. We have better reports of
the flouring-mills here, and also of a paper-mill which was established
by an American several years ago. As the Mexicans become better educated
the demand for paper is likely to increase; at present it does not take
a large number of mills to supply their wants in this respect.
[Illustration: HILL OF EL BORREGO.]
"The people of this city are less eager to point out the hill of El
Borrego than are the Pueblans to indicate the scene of the battle of
_Cinco de Mayo_. The latter was a Mexican victory, while the battle of
Borrego was a disastrous defeat. Four or five thousand Mexicans were
surprised and put to flight by a few hundred French troops. The French
say there were not over one hundred in the attacking party. It was a
night surprise, and the French had all the advantages of a nocturnal
assault. In justice to the Mexicans it should be added that the
assailants were old soldiers, while the surprised army was composed of
raw recruits, who are proverbially easy to throw into a panic,
especially in the darkness. The same troops made a good record for
themselves later in the war."
From Orizaba our friends continued their railway journey into the
_tierra caliente_, passing Fortin and Cordoba, the latter the centre of
a coffee-growing district of considerable importance. A German gentleman
who had a coffee estate near Cordoba was in the carriage with Doctor
Bronson and the youths, and gave them some account of the industry;
Fred made notes of his remarks, and afterwards wrote them out in full,
with the following result:
"Cordoba is less important now than it has been, owing to the decline in
the prices of sugar and coffee; it was founded in the early part of the
seventeenth century, and for a long time its industries were the growing
of sugar-cane and tobacco. Coffee is a comparatively recent
introduction; we produce annually in the Cordoba district about
10,000,000 pounds of coffee, and five times as much tobacco, and our
coffee and tobacco have a high reputation in the market. Coffee grows in
the lower regions of Mexico, and up to elevations of four, or even five,
thousand feet; the best site for a plantation is about 3000 feet above
sea-level; but it must be remembered that the coffee-tree requires a
great deal of moisture, and unless a region is warm and wet it will not
answer for a successful experiment."
[Illustration: ORANGE GROVE IN CORDOBA.]
Frank asked how soon after a plantation was started the trees would
begin to bear.
The gentleman replied that he had seen coffee-trees bearing two years
after they were planted, and it was very common to gather fair crops
from trees three years old. But they could not be relied upon for a
profitable yield until they were four or five years old, and they
continue to bear for twenty years. When a plantation is five years old
it does not cost much to keep it up, but before that time it is a heavy
outlay, with little or slight return.
[Illustration: COFFEE-DRYING.]
"You may grow tobacco or bananas between the young coffee-trees when you
set them out," he continued, "and the profit from these products will
cover a part of your expenses. In fact you should set out enough bananas
or plantains to shelter the young plants, which are liable to be injured
by the sun and rain and wind in their infancy. The coffee-tree would
grow to a height of twenty or twenty-five feet if we permitted it to do
so; we cut it off about six feet from the ground, and thus force the
vigor into the branches; we want it low enough to pick from without too
much reaching or climbing, and this would not be the case if we allowed
the tree to run up as it would naturally."
Then he gave the youths an account of the harvesting of the crop, and
its preparation for market, but as this has already been described
elsewhere[5] Fred did not make a record of it. The culture of coffee is
pretty nearly the same all the world over wherever the plant is grown.
[5] See "The Boy Travellers in Ceylon and India," chap. xix.
The conversation with the coffee-grower had not prevented our friends
from observing the scenery which lies between Orizaba and Cordoba along
the line of the railway. They were especially impressed with the
engineering which was required for crossing the barranca of Metlac; this
barranca is about 200 feet deep, by twice that width, and the first
thought of the engineers was to throw a bridge directly across it. A
bridge of a single span of 400 feet would be very costly, and piers 200
feet in height to support a lighter structure could not be built without
great expense. Consequently the plan was adopted of descending to where
the barranca is less wide and high before attempting to span it.
"The bridge," wrote Frank, "is on eight piers of iron, resting on
masonry, and it curves in its course from one side of the barranca to
the other on a radius of 325 feet. It is 400 feet long and 92 feet high;
the railway is cut into the slope of the barranca on each side, and as
it nears the bridge it enters a tunnel that curves so as to give the
necessary approach. The incline of the railway on each side of the
barranca is about three feet in a hundred, and for quite a distance the
opposite tracks are almost parallel to each other. The sides of the
barranca are covered with a dense growth of tropical trees and
underbrush, and the picture it presents is very attractive to the
traveller, however disheartening it may have been to the men who planned
the railway. Many a railway engineer in Mexico has regretted that
barrancas were ever invented, and, on the other hand, has congratulated
himself that their number is no larger than it is."
[Illustration: BRIDGE OF ATTOYAC.]
From Cordoba to Paso del Macho the fine scenery continued, the train
winding among hills and mountains, disappearing into tunnels, crossing
deep valleys upon graceful bridges, and steadily unfolding a panorama of
great beauty. Frank made note of the bridge of Attoyac, 330 feet long;
the Chiquihuite bridge, 220 feet long; and that of San Alego, three
miles before reaching Paso del Macho, which is 318 feet long. In twenty
miles there was a descent of 1200 feet, and the scenery steadily assumed
more and more a tropical aspect.
But beyond Paso del Macho the country changed again and grew sterile, as
though they were once more in the region of the _tierra fria_.
"How is this?" queried Fred. "Here we are coming all the time nearer the
sea both in elevation and distance; I thought we should have it a
perfect forest of tropical growths all the way to Vera Cruz."
[Illustration: IN TIERRA CALIENTE.]
"Those who have studied the subject," answered the Doctor, "say that
this strip of land along the coast is not touched by the moist vapors
which blow inland from the sea. They are attracted by the mountains and
highlands, and blow over this region to shed their moisture at a greater
elevation."
Evidently the youths were disappointed, but they consoled themselves
with the reflection that they were not intending to settle in the
country, and therefore it didn't matter much to them what it was. Paso
del Macho is about 1500 feet above sea-level, and forty-seven miles from
Vera Cruz. The slope of the land from here onward is regular, and no
unusual engineering skill was required for the construction of the
railway. Fred noted the names of four stations, Camaron, Soledad, Purga,
and Tejeria, before they reached Vera Cruz; but there was nothing
attractive about any of those places to render them worthy of further
record. Historically, Soledad is memorable as the scene of the
convention between generals Prim and Doblado in 1862, which led to the
occupation of the country by the French troops and the invitation to
Maximilian to become Emperor of Mexico. Fred asked if there was any
monument at Soledad to commemorate the event, and was not at all
surprised at receiving a negative answer.
[Illustration: VERA CRUZ, LOOKING SEAWARD.]
Night had fallen when they rolled into the station at Vera Cruz. Fred
watched for the fortifications, of which he had read so much, and was
disappointed to learn that they had followed the fate of the walls of
most European cities and been levelled out of existence. Modern
artillery has rendered all defences of this kind of no value for
military purposes, and it is an act of common-sense to destroy them and
make practical use of the ground they occupy.
The air was close and warm and offered no inducements for a stroll. By
the time our friends had located themselves at the Hotel de Diligencias,
which was said to be the principal one, and partaken of a not very
appetizing supper, they had more thoughts of bed than of anything else.
Next morning the youths were out in good season for the local sights.
The first objects of interest were the _zopilotes_, or vultures, that
act as a street-cleaning bureau, in taking possession of everything
edible (from their point of view) in the refuse of the streets. Frank
and Fred had seen these birds before on many occasions, but never in
such numbers; they are analogous to the turkey-buzzards of the Southern
States of North America, and are said to be scientifically of the genus
_Cathartes_. They roosted on the house-tops, and walked through the
streets, constantly on the lookout for something in their line. They are
protected by law, and are faithful scavengers, working without pay other
than board and lodging. They lodge in the open air, and board upon what
no other living creature would eat, so that they are inexpensive
luxuries. They have never been charged, like street-cleaning bureaus
elsewhere, with obtaining money under fraudulent contracts.
"The streets were quiet," wrote Fred, "and we were not surprised to
learn that the population of Vera Cruz is under 20,000 and not
particularly prosperous, although for a long time nine-tenths of the
foreign commerce of the country passed through this port. Since the
railways from the United States were opened to the capital the trade of
the city has greatly declined. Most of the business is in the hands of
foreigners, so that the chief connection a Mexican has with it is to
handle the goods as they are transferred from ship to railway or
warehouse. The streets are straight and mostly narrow, and the open
drains require to be constantly flushed, to keep down the stenches and
unhealthy miasmas. In the sickly season the drains are nightly supplied
with disinfectants to keep off that dreaded scourge the _vomito_, or
yellow-fever.
[Illustration: AFTER THE VOMITO.]
"We had heard much of the unhealthiness of Vera Cruz, and particularly
of the vomito, which sometimes carries off hundreds of victims in a
single week, and makes the road to the cemetery the best travelled one
in the whole city. Forty or fifty deaths a day are by no means uncommon;
the old inhabitants do not seem to mind it, as they claim that a person
who has once had the fever is ever after safe from it. A few years ago
Dr. Trowbridge, the American Consul, was removed from the office which
he had held for twelve years; his successor arrived during the
prevalence of yellow-fever, and died on the thirteenth day of his
occupation of his new place. Dr. Trowbridge and his family had the fever
lightly when they first arrived, and never afterwards suffered from it.
"They tell us that yellow-fever is most dangerous in summer months, and
least so in the winter. It is not advisable for a stranger to come here
in the sickly season, and so well is this recognized that the betting
men of Vera Cruz are said to make wagers as to the probable length of
life of a visitor from Europe or North America when the vomito is
prevalent. A Yankee whom we met up-country says that when he came to
Vera Cruz a polite individual called upon him at the hotel and solicited
his patronage, 'which he was sure to need.' He did not feel very
comfortable on learning that the polite man was an undertaker, and fled
from the city by first train. It used to be said that a life insurance
policy was vitiated if the holder remained more than twenty-four hours
at Vera Cruz.
"Yellow-fever is as dangerous for the Mexican from the table-lands as it
is to the North American, and some authorities say that the stranger
from over the sea is less liable to it than the Mexican from the _tierra
fria_. It begins in May, is worst in August and September, and then
declines to December, when it practically disappears under the influence
of the strong 'northers' that blow during the autumn equinox. Were it
not for these northers Vera Cruz would be altogether too unhealthy for
human habitation."