Leave _Atlacamulco_--Assemble by Starlight--Balmy Atmosphere--Flowers and
Trees of the Tropics--The Formidable _Barrancas_--_Breakfast under the
Trees_--Force of the Sun--_Meacatlan_--Hospitality--Profitable
Estate--Leave Meacatlan--Beautiful Village--Musical Bells--Ride by
Moonlight--Sugar Fires--Cocoyotla--_Old Gentleman_--Supper--Orange-trees
and Cocoas--Delicious Water--Sugar Estates--A Scorpion--Set off for the
Cave--Morning Ride--Dangerous Path
Cocoyotla, 5th.
On the morning of the third of February we rose about half-past two, and a
little after three, by the light of the stars and the blaze of the sugar
fires, our whole party were assembled on horseback in the courtyard. We
were about twelve in number. Don Juan, the coffee-planter, and Don Pedro, a
friend of his, were deputed by the agent to act as our guides. Four or five
well-armed _mozos_, farmservants, were our escort, together with our
Mexican boy; and we had mules to carry our luggage, which was compressed
into the smallest possible compass. The morning was perfectly enchanting,
and the air like balm, when we set off by this uncertain light; not on
roads (much to our satisfaction), but through fields, and over streams, up
hills and down into valleys, climbing among stones, the horses picking
their way like goats. I certainly never felt or imagined such an
atmosphere. The mere inhaling it was sufficient pleasure.
When the light gradually began to dawn, so that we could discern each
other's faces, and made sure that we were not a party of shadows, for
besides the obscurity, a mixture of sleepiness and placid delight had
hitherto kept us all silent, we looked round on the landscape, as little by
little it assumed form and consistency. The fires from the hacienda were
still visible, but growing pale in the beams of morning, vanishing like
false visions from before the holy light of truth. As we rode along, we
found that the scenery on the hilly parts was generally bleak and sterile,
the grass dried up, and very little vegetation; but wherever we arrived at
a valley sheltered from the sun's rays, there we found a little rivulet
trickling through it, with water like liquid diamonds, bathing the trees
and the flowers--the loveliest blossoming trees, mingled with bananas,
oranges, and lemons, and interspersed with bright flowers, forming a
natural garden and orchard.
One tree, with no leaves on it, is covered with white starry flowers, and
looks at a distance as if it had been covered with snow, which had melted
off the branches, leaving only occasional white tufts. Another is bending
with lilac blossoms, which hang in graceful clusters--another with flowers
like yellow balls. Then there are scarlet wild flowers, that seem as if
they were made of wax or shining coral, and quantities of white jasmine,
trailing on the grass, and throwing itself over the branches of the trees.
There is one beautiful tree, with flowers like immense white lilies, and
buds that look like shut lily blossoms in white wax.
Leaving these beautiful and fertile lands that adorn the slopes and bases
of the hills, you mount again up the steep paths, and again you find the
grass dried up, and no vegetation but stunted nopals or miserable-looking
blue-green magueys. Yet sometimes in the most desert spot, a little
sheltered by a projecting hill, you come upon the most beautiful tree,
bending with rich blossoms, standing all alone, as if through ambition it
had deserted its lowly sisters in the valley, and stood, in its exalted
station, solitary and companionless.
As for the names of these tropical trees, they are almost all Indian, and
it is only _botanically_ that they can be properly distinguished. There is
the _floripundio_, with white odoriferous flowers hanging like bells from
its branches, with large pointed pale-green leaves--the _yollojochitl_,
signifying flower of the heart, like white stars with yellow hearts, which
when shut have the form of one, and the fragrance of which is
delicious--the _isgujochitl_, whose flowers look like small white
musk-roses--another with a long Indian name, and which means the flower of
the raven, and is white, red, and yellow. The Indians use it to adorn their
altars, and it is very fragrant as well as beautiful.
After six hours'good riding, our guides pointed out to us the formidable
barrancas at some distance, and expressed their opinion, that, with great
caution, our horses being very sure-footed, we might venture to pass them,
by which means we should save three leagues, and be enabled to reach an
hacienda within six leagues of the cave that night; and after some
deliberation, it was agreed that the attempt should be made. These
barrancas (the word literally means a ravine or mountain gully) are two
mountains, one behind the other, which it is necessary to cross by a narrow
path, that looks like a road for goats. We began the ascent in silence, and
some fear, one by one till the horses were nearly perpendicular. It lasted
about twenty minutes; and we then began to descend slowly, certainly not
without some danger of being thrown over our horses' heads. However, we
arrived in safety at the end of the first mountain, and this being
accomplished, drew up to rest our horses and mules beside a beautiful clear
stream, bordered by flowering trees. Here some clear-headed individual of
the party proposed that we should open our hamper, containing cold chicken,
hand eggs, sherry, etc.; observing, that it was time to be hungry. His
suggestion was agreed to without a dissenting voice, and a napkin being
spread under a shady tree, no time was lost in proving the truth of his
observation. A very ingenious contrivance for making a wine-glass, by
washing an egg-shell in the stream, is worthy of record. When we had
demolished the cold chicken, the mozos surrounded the cold meat, and after
gathering branches covered with beautiful flowers, with which we ornamented
our horses' heads and our own hats, we prepared to ascend the second
mountain. This is as steep, or nearly as steep as the first; but we were
already confident in the sure-footedness of our horses, and even able to
admire the view as we ascended single file. After much rain, this path must
of course be completely impassable. The day had now become oppressively
warm, though it was not later than eleven o'clock; and having passed the
hills, we came to a dusty high-road, which, about twelve, brought us to the
hacienda of Meacatlan, belonging to the family of Perez Palacio. We were
overtaken on the road by the eldest son of the proprietor, who cordially
invited us in, and introduced us to the ladies of his family, and to his
father, a fine, noble-looking old gentleman. As we were excessively tired,
hot, and dusty, we were very glad to spend a few hours here during the heat
of the sun; and after joining the family at breakfast, consisting of the
most extraordinary variety of excellent dishes, with a profusion of fine
fruits and curious sweetmeats (amongst which was that ethereal-looking
production, called _angel's hair, cabella de angel_), we were glad to lie
down and rest till four o'clock.
This hacienda is very productive and valuable, and has a silver mine on it.
There is also every variety of fine fruit, especially the largest _cedrats_
I ever saw; which, although they have not a great deal of flavour, are very
refreshing. With all their beauty and fertility, there is something very
lonely in a residence on these estates, which are so entirely shut out of
the world; not so much for the proprietors themselves, who are occupied in
the care of their interests, but for the female part of the family.
We left this hospitable mansion about four o'clock, rested and refreshed,
the proprietor giving K---- a horse of his, instead of her own, which was
tired. The sun was still powerful, when we and our train remounted, but the
evening had become delightfully cool, by the time that we had reached the
beautiful village of San Francisco de Tetecala, lying amongst wooded hills,
its white houses gleaming out from amidst the orange-trees, with a small
river crossed by bridges running through it. Many of the houses were
tolerably large and well built. It was a fête-day, and the musical bells
ringing merrily; the people were clean and well dressed, and were assembled
in crowds in an enclosure, looking at a bull-fight, which must be hot work
in this climate, both for man and beast.
But when the moon rose serenely, and without a cloud, and a soft breeze,
fragrant with orange blossom, blew gently over the trees, I felt as if we
might have rode on for ever, without fatigue, and in a state of the most
perfect enjoyment. It were hard to say whether the first soft breath of
morning, or the languishing and yet more fragrant airs of evening were most
enchanting. Sometimes we passed through a village of scattered Indian huts,
with little fires of sticks lighted in their courts, glowing on the bronze
faces of the women and children; and at the sound of our horses' hoofs, a
chorus of dogs, yelping with most discordant fury, would give us loud
notice of their total disapprobation of all night travellers. Sometimes a
decided smell of boiled sugar was mingled with the fragrance of the orange
blossom and jasmine; reminding us of those happy days of yore, when the
housekeeper in all her glory, was engaged in making her annual stock of
jellies and jams.
Once we were obliged to dismount, that our horses might make an _ugly leap_
over a great ditch guarded by thorny bushes, and amongst trees where the
moon gave us no light.
About ten o'clock symptoms of weariness began to break out amongst us,
spite of moonbeams and orange-buds; when down in a valley we saw the sugar
fires of _Cocoyotla_, the hacienda to which we trusted for our next place
of shelter, darting out their fierce red tongues amongst the trees. We
knocked for admittance at the great gate, and it was some time before the
people within would undo the fastenings, which they did with great caution,
and after carefully reconnoitring us; afterwards giving for excuse, that a
party of thirty robbers had passed by the night before, and that they
thought we might have been some of these _night-errants_. We sent in our
credentials to the proprietor, an old gentleman married to a young wife,
who, living on the road to the cave, is by no means pleased at his house
being turned into a posada for all and sundry, and complained bitterly of a
party of Englishmen who had passed by some time before, "and the only
_Spanish_ word they could say, was _Vater_, by which they meant _Agua_,
Caramba!" However, he was very hospitable to us, and pressed us to remain
there the following day, and rest ourselves and our horses after our
fourteen leagues march, previous to going on to the cave.
A very good supper and a very sound sleep were refreshing, and the whole of
the next day we spent in wandering about or sitting lazily amongst the
magnificent orange-trees and cocoas of this fine hacienda. Here the
orange-trees are the loftiest we had yet seen; long ranges of noble trees,
loaded with fruit and flowers. At the back of the house is a small grove of
cocoas, and a clear running stream passing through beautiful flowers, and
refreshing everything in its course. Indeed all through _tierra caliente_,
except on the barren hills, there is a profusion of the most delicious
water, here at once a necessity and a luxury.
These sugar estates are under high cultivation, the crops abundant, the
water always more than sufficient both for the purposes of irrigation and
for machinery, which A---- considers equal to anything he has seen in
Jamaica. They produce annually from thirty to fifty thousand _arrobas_ of
sugar. The labourers are free Indians, and are paid from two and a half to
six and a half reals per day. I believe that about one hundred and fifty
are sufficient for working on a large estate. Bountiful nature, walking on
the traces of civil war, fills up the ravages caused by sanguinary
revolutions, and these estates in the valley of Cuernavaca, which have so
frequently been theatres of bloodshed, and have so often changed
proprietors, remain in themselves as fertile and productive as ever.
In the evening we visited the _trapiche_, as they call the sugar-works, the
sugar-boilers, warehouses, store-rooms, and engines. The heat is so intense
among these great boilers, that we could not endure it for more than a few
minutes, and pitied the men who have to spend their lives in this work.
They make _panoja_ on this estate, cakes of coarse sugar, which the common
people prefer to the refined sugar.
Just as we were preparing to retire for the night, an animal on the wall
attracted our attention, close by K----'s bed--and, gentle reader! it was a
scorpion! We gave a simultaneous cry, which brought Señor ----- into the
room, who laughed at our fears, and killed our foe; when lo! just as our
fright had passed away, another, a yellowish-coloured, venomous-looking
creature, appeared stealing along the wall. The lady of the house came this
time, and ordered the room and the beds to be searched. No more could be
discovered, but it was difficult to sleep in peace after such an
apparition.
At three the next morning we rose, and set off by moon and starlight for
the cave. The morning was lovely as usual, and quite cool. We passed a
great deal of barren and hilly road, till we reached some plains, where we
had a delightful gallop, and arrived early at a small rancho, or farmhouse,
where we were to procure guides for the cave. Here we added four Indians,
and the master of the house, _Benito_, to our party, which was afterwards
increased by numbers of men and boys, till we formed a perfect regiment.
This little rancho, with its small garden, was very clean and neat. The
woman of the house told us she had seen no ladies since an English
_Ministra_ had slept there two nights. We concluded that this must have
been Mrs. Ashburnham, who spent two days in exploring the cave. We
continued our ride over loose stones, and dry, rocky hills, where, were the
horses not sure-footed, and used to climb, the riders' necks would no doubt
suffer. Within about a quarter of a mile of the cave, after leaving on our
right the pretty village of Cautlamilpas, we found ourselves in a place
which I consider much more dangerous than even the barrancas near
_Meacatlan_; a narrow path, overhanging a steep precipice, and bordering a
perpendicular hill, with just room for the horses' feet, affording the
comfortable assurance that one false step would precipitate you to the
bottom. I confess to having held my breath, as one by one, and step by
step, no one looking to the right or the left, our gowns occasionally
catching on a bush, with our whole train we wound slowly down this narrow
descent. Arrived near the mouth of the cave, we dismounted, and climbed our
way among stones and gravel to the great mountain opening. But an account
of the cave itself must be reserved till our return to Atlacamulco.