Ride by Starlight--Fear of Robbers--Tropical Wild Flowers--Stout Escort--
_Hautepec_--Hacienda of _Cocoyoc_--A Fire--Three Thousand Orange-trees--
Coffee Mills, etc.--Variety of Tropical Fruits--Prodigality of Nature--
_Casasano_--Celebrated Reservoir--Ride to Santa Clara--A Philosopher--A
Scorpion--Leave Santa Clara--Dangerous _Barranca_--_Colon_--Agreeable
House--Civil _Administrador_--San Nicolas--Solitude--Franciscan Friar--
Rainy Morning--Pink Turban--Arrival at _Atlisco_--Cypress--Department of
Puebla--Volcanoes--Doña Marina--Verses--_Popocatepetl_--Cholula--Great
Pyramid--Arrival at Puebla.
On the 9th of February we took leave of Atlacamulco and the hospitable
administrador, and our party being diminished by the absence of Don Pedro,
who was obliged to go to Mexico, we set off as usual by starlight, being
warned of various _bad bits_ on the road, where the ladies at least were
advised to dismount. The country was wild and pretty, mountainous and
stony. When the light came in we separated and galloped about in all
directions. The air was cool and laden with sweetness. We came, however, to
a pretty lane, where those of our escort who were in front stopped, and
those who were behind rode up and begged us to keep close together, as for
many leagues the country was haunted by robbers. Guns and pistols being
looked to, we rode on in serried ranks, expecting every moment to hear a
bullet whizz over our heads.
Here were the most beautiful wild flowers we have yet seen; some purple,
white, and rose-colour in one blossom; probably the flower called
_ocelojochitl_, or viper's head, others bright scarlet, others red, with
white and yellow stripes, and with an Indian name, signifying the tiger's
flower; some had rose-coloured blossoms, others were of the purest white.
We came at last to a road over a mountain, about as bad as anything we had
yet seen. Our train of horses and mules, and men in their Mexican dresses,
looked very picturesque winding up and down these steep crags; and here
again, forgetful of robbers, each one wandered according to his own fancy,
some riding forward, and others lingering behind to pull branches of these
beautiful wild blossoms. The horses' heads were covered with flowers of
every colour, so that they looked like victims adorned for sacrifice. C---n
indulged his botanical and geological propensities, occasionally to the
great detriment of his companions, as we were anxious to arrive at some
resting-place before the sun became insupportable. As for the robbers,
these gentlemen, who always keep a sharp look-out, and rarely endanger
their precious persons without some sufficient motive, and who, moreover,
seem to have some magical power of seeing through stone walls and into
portmanteaus, were no doubt aware that our luggage would neither have
replenished their own nor their _ladies_' wardrobes, and calculated that
people who travel for pleasure are not likely to carry any great quantity
of superfluous coin. Besides this, they are much more afraid of these
honest, stout, well-armed farm servants, who are a fine race of men, than
even soldiers.
We arrived about six o'clock at the village of Hautepec, remarkable for its
fine old church and lofty trees, especially for one magnificent
wide-spreading ash-tree in the churchyard. There were also many of those
pretty trees with the silvery bark, which always look as if the moon were
shining on them. The road began to improve, but the sun became very
oppressive about nine o'clock, when we arrived at a pretty village, which
had a large church and a _venta_ (tavern), where we stopped to refresh
ourselves with water and some very well-baked small cakes. The village was
so pretty that we had some thoughts of remaining there till the evening,
but as Don Juan assured us that one hour's good gallop would carry us to
Cocoyoc, the hacienda of Don Juan Gorivar, we determined to continue. We
had a dreadful ride in the hot sun, till we arrived at a pretty Indian
village on the estate, and shortly after entered the courtyard of the great
hacienda of Cocoyoc, where we were most hospitably welcomed by the
proprietor and his family.
We were very tired owing to the extreme heat, and white with dust. A fresh
toilet, cold water, an hour's rest, and an excellent breakfast, did wonders
for us. Soon after our arrival, the sugar-house, or rather the cane
rubbish, took fire, and the great bell swung heavily to and fro, summoning
the workmen to assist in getting it under. It was not extinguished for some
time, and the building is so near the house, that the family were a little
alarmed. We stood on the balcony, which commands a beautiful view of
Popocatepetl, watching the blaze. After a hard battle between fire and
water, water carried the day.
In the evening we drove to the orange grove, where three thousand lofty
trees are ranged in avenues, literally bending under the weight of their
golden fruit and snowy blossom. I never saw a more beautiful sight. Each
tree is perfect, and lofty as a forest tree. The ground under their broad
shadows is strewed with thousands of oranges, dropping in their ripeness,
and covered with the white, fragrant blossoms. The place is lovely, and
everywhere traversed by streams of the purest water. We ate a disgraceful
number of oranges, limes, guayavas, and all manner of fruits, and even
tasted the sweet beans of the coffee-plants.
We spent the next morning in visiting the coffee-mills, the great
brandy-works, sugar-houses, etc., all which are in the highest order; and
in strolling through the orange groves, and admiring the curious and
beautiful flowers, and walking among orchards of loaded fruit-trees--the
calabash, papaw, mango, tamarind, citron--also mameys, chirimoyas, custard
apples, and all the family of the zapotes, white, black, yellow, and
_chico_; cayotes, cocoas, cacahuates, aguacates, etc., etc., etc., a list
without an end.
Besides these are an infinity of trees covered with the brightest blossoms;
one, with large scarlet flowers, most gorgeous in their colouring, and one
whose blossoms are so like large pink silk tassels, that if hung to the
cushions of a sofa, you could not discover them to be flowers. What
prodigality of nature in these regions! With what a lavish hand she flings
beauty and luxury to her tropical children!
In the evening we drove to Casasano, an hacienda about three leagues from
Cocoyoc, and passed by several other fine estates, amongst others, the
hacienda of Calderon. Casasano is an immense old house, very dull-looking,
the road to which lies through a fine park for cattle, dotted with great
old trees, but of which the grass is very much burnt up. Each hacienda has
a large chapel attached to it, at which all the workmen and villagers in
the environs attend mass; a padre coming from a distance on Sundays and
fête-days. Frequently there is one attached to the establishment. We went
to see the celebrated water-tank of Casasano, the largest and most
beautiful reservoir in this part of the country; the water so pure, that
though upwards of thirty feet deep, every blade of grass at the bottom is
visible. Even a pin, dropped upon the stones below, is seen shining quite
distinctly. A stone wall, level with the water, thirty feet high, encloses
it, on which I ventured to walk all round the tank, which is of an oval
form, with the assistance of our host, going one by one. A fall would be
sufficiently awkward, involving drowning on one side and breaking your neck
on the other. The water is beautiful--a perfect mirror, with long green
feathery plants at the bottom.
The next morning we took leave of our friends at three o'clock, and set off
for Santa Clara, the hacienda of Don Eusebio Garcia. Señor Goriva made me a
present of a very good horse, and our ride that day was delightful, though
the roads led over the most terrible barrancas. For nine long leagues, we
did nothing but ford rivers and climb steep hills, those who were pretty
well mounted beating up the tired cavalry. But during the first hours of
our ride, the air was so fresh among the hills, that even when the sun was
high, we suffered little from the heat; and the beautiful and varied views
we met at every turn were full of interest. Santa Clara is a striking,
imposing mass of building, beautifully situated at the foot of three bold,
high rocks, with a remarkably handsome church attached to it. The family
were from home, and the agent was a philosopher, living upon herb-tea,
quite above the common affairs of life. It is a fine hacienda, and very
productive, but sad and solitary in the extreme, and as K---- and I walked
about in the courtyard after supper, where we had listened to frightful
stories of robbers and robberies, we felt rather uncomfortably dreary, and
anxious to change our quarters. We visited the sugar-works, which are like
all others, the chapel, which is very fine, and the shop where they sell
spirituous liquors and calicoes. The hills looked gray and solemn. The sun
sank gloomy behind them, his colour a turbid red. So much had been said
about robbers, that we were not sure how our next day's journey might
terminate. The administrador's own servant had turned out to be the captain
of a band! whom the robbers, from some mysterious motive, had murdered a
few days before. As we intended to rise before dawn, we went to bed early,
about nine o'clock, and were just in the act of extinguishing a
melancholy-looking candle, when we were startled by the sight of an alacran
on the wall. A man six feet high came at our call. He looked at the
scorpion, shook his head, and ran out. He came back in a little while with
another large man, he with a great shoe in his hand, and his friend with a
long pole. While they were both hesitating how to kill it, Don Juan came
in, and did the deed. We had a melancholy night after this, afraid of
everything, with a long unsnuffed candle illuminating the darkness of our
large and lonely chamber. The next morning, the ninth of February, before
sunrise, we took our leave, in the darkness, of Santa Clara and the
philosopher. The morning, wonderful to relate, was windy, and almost cold.
The roads were frightful, and we hailed the first gray streak that appeared
in the eastern sky, announcing the dawn, which might enable us at least to
see our perils. Fortunately it was bright daylight when we found ourselves
crossing--a barranca, so dangerous, that after following for some time the
precipitous course of the mountain path, we thought it advisable to get off
our horses, who were pawing the slippery rock, without being able to find
any rest for the soles of their feet. We had a good deal of difficulty in
getting along ourselves on foot among the loose, sharp stones, and the
horses, between sliding and stumbling, were a long while in accomplishing
the descent. After climbing up the barranca, one of them ran off along the
edge of the cliff, as if he were determined to cut the whole concern, and
we wasted some time in catching him.
It was the afternoon when we rode through the lanes of a large Indian
village, and shortly after arrived at Colon, an hacienda belonging to Don
Antonio Orria. He was from home, but the good reception of the honest
administrador, the nice, clean, cheerful house, with its pretty painted
chairs, good beds, the excellent breakfasts and dinners, and the _good
will_ visible in the whole establishment, delighted us very much, and
decided us to pitch our tent here for a day or two. Some Spaniards, hearing
of C---n's arrival, rode over from a distance to see him, and dined with
us. There was a capital housekeeper, famous for her excellent cakes and
preserves. We had also the refreshment of a warm bath, and felt ourselves
as much at home as if we had been in our own house.
The next morning we rode through the great sugarcane fields to the hacienda
of San Nicolas, one of the finest estates in the republic, eighteen leagues
long and five wide, belonging to Señor Zamora, in right of his wife. It is
a productive place, but a singularly dreary residence. We walked out to see
all the works, which are on a great scale, and breakfasted with the
proprietor, who was there alone. We amused ourselves by seeing the workmen
receive their weekly pay (this being Saturday), and at the mountains of
copper piled up on tables in front of the house. There is a feeling of
vastness, of solitude, and of dreariness in some of these great haciendas,
which is oppressive. Especially about noon, when everything is still, and
there is no sound except the incessant buzz of myriads of insects, I can
imagine it like what the world must have been before man was created.
Colon, which is not so large as San Nicolas, has a greater air of life
about it; and in fact we liked it so well, that, as ----- observed, we
seemed inclined to consider it, not as a _colon_, but a _full stop_. You
must not expect more vivacious puns in _tierra caliente_. We rode back from
San Nicolas in the afternoon, accompanied by the proprietor, and had some
thoughts of going to _Matamoras_ in the evening, to see the "Barber of
Seville" performed by a strolling company in the open air, under a tree!
admittance twenty-five cents. However, we ended by remaining where we were,
and spent the evening in walking about through the village, surrounded by
barking dogs, the greatest nuisance in these places, and pulling wild
flowers, and gathering castor-oil nuts from the trees. A begging Franciscan
friar, from the convent of San Fernando, arrived for his yearly supply of
sugar which he begs from the different haciendas, for his convent, a
tribute which is never refused.
We left our hospitable entertainer the next morning, with the addition of
sundry baskets of cake and fruit from the housekeeper. As we were setting
off, I asked the administrador if there were any barrancas on this road.
"No," said he, "but I have sent a basketful with one of the boys, as they
are very refreshing." I made no remark, concluding that I should find out
his meaning in the course of the journey, but keeping a sharp look-out on
the mysterious _mozo_, who was added to our train. When the light became
stronger, I perceived that he carried under his sarape a large basket of
fine _naranjas_ (oranges), which no doubt the honest administrador thought
I was inquiring after. It rained, when we left Colon, a thick misty
drizzle, and the difference of the temperature gave us notice that we were
passing out of _tierra caliente_. The road was so straight and
uninteresting, though the surrounding country was fertile, that a few
barrancas would really have been enlivening.
At Colon we took leave of our conductor, Don Juan, who returned to
Atlacamulco, and got a new director of our forces, a handsome man, yclept
Don Francisco, who had been a Spanish soldier. We had an uncomfortable ride
in a high wind and hard rain, the roads good, but devoid of interest, so
that we were glad when we learnt that _Atlisco_, a town where we were to
pass the night, was not far off. Within a mile or two of the city we were
met by a tall man on horseback, with a pink turban, and a wild, swarthy
face, who looked like an Abencerrage, and who came with the compliments of
his master, a Spanish gentleman, to say that a house had been prepared for
us in the town.
Atlisco is a large town, with a high mountain behind it, crowned by a white
chapel, a magnificent church at the base; the whole city full of fine
churches and convents, with a plaza and many good houses. The numerous
pipes, pointed all along from the roofs, have a very threatening and
warlike effect; one seems to ride up the principal street under a strong
fire. We found that Don Fernando -----, pink turban's master, not
considering his own house good enough, had, on hearing of our expected
arrival, hired another, and furnished part of it for us! This is the sort
of wholesale hospitality one meets with in this country. Our room looked
out upon an old Carmelite monastery, where C---n, having a recommendation
to the prior, paid a visit, and found one or two good paintings. Here also
we saw the famous cypress mentioned by Humboldt, which is seventy-three
feet in circumference. The next morning we set out with an escort of seven
_mozos_, headed by Don Francisco, and all well armed, for the road from
Atlisco to Puebla is the robbers' highway, _par excellence_.
This valley of Atlisco, as indeed the whole department of Puebla, is noted
for its fertility, and its abundant crops of maguey, wheat, maize,
frijoles, garbanzos, barley, and other vegetables, as well as for the
fineness of its fruits, its chirimoyas, etc. There is a Spanish proverb
which says,
"Si a morar en Indías feures,
Que sea doude los volcanes vieres."
"If you go to live in the Indias, let it be within sight of the volcanoes;"
for it appears that all the lands surrounding the different volcanoes are
fertile, and enjoy a pleasant climate. The great Cordilleras of Anahuac
cross this territory, and amongst these are the Mountain of the Malinchi,
Ixtaccihuatl, Popocatepetl, and the Peak of Orizava. The Malinchi, a
corruption by the Spaniards of the Indian name Malintzin, signifying Doña
María or Marina, is supposed to be called after Cortes's Indian Egería, the
first Christian woman of the Mexican empire.
Though given to Cortes by the Tabascan Indians, it seems clear that she was
of noble birth, and that her father was the lord of many cities. It is
pretended that she fell into a tributary situation, through the treachery
of her mother, who remarried after the death of her first husband, and who,
bestowing all her affection on the son born of this second marriage,
determined, in concert with her husband, that all their wealth should pass
to him. It happened, in furtherance of their views, that the daughter of
one of their slaves died, upon which they gave out that they had lost their
own daughter, affected to mourn for her, and, at the same time, privately
sold her, after the fashion of Joséph's brethren, to some merchants of
Gicalanco, who in their turn disposed of her to their neighbours, the
Tabascans, who presented her to Cortes. That she was beautiful and of great
talent, versed in different dialects, the devoted friend of the Spaniards,
and serving as their interpreter in their negotiations with the various
Indian tribes, there seems no doubt. She accompanied Cortes in all his
expeditions--he followed her advice; and in the whole history of the
conquest, Doña Marina (the name given to the beautiful slave at her
Christian baptism) played an important part. Her son, Martin Cortes, a
knight of the order of Santiago, was put to the torture in the time of
Philip II., on some unfounded suspicion of rebellion. It is said that when
Cortes, accompanied by Doña Marina, went to Honduras, she met her guilty
relatives, who, bathed in tears, threw themselves at her feet, fearful lest
she might avenge herself of their cruel treatment; but that she calmed
their fears, and received them with much kindness. The name of her
birthplace was Painala, a village in the province of Cuatzacualco. After
the conquest, she was married to a Spaniard, named Juan de Jaramillo.
But I have wandered a long way from the Sierra Malinchi. The two great
volcanoes, but especially Popocatepetl, the highest mountain in New Spain,
seem to follow the traveller like his guardian spirit, wherever he goes.
Orizava, which forms a boundary between the departments of Puebla and Vera
Cruz, is said to be the most beautiful of mountains on a near approach, as
it is the most magnificent at a distance; for while its summit is crowned
with snow, its central part is girded by thick forests of cedar and pine,
and its base is adorned with woods and sloping fields covered with flocks,
and dotted with white ranchos and small scattered villages; forming the
most agreeable and varied landscape imaginable. Ixtaccihuatl means white
woman; Popocatepetl the mountain that throws out smoke. They are thus
celebrated by the poet Heredia:
Nieve eternal corona las cabezas
De Ixtaccihuatl puríssimo, Orizava
Y Popocatepetl; sin que el invierno
Toque jamás con destructura mano
Los campos fertillísimos do ledo
Los mira el indio en purpura ligera
Yoro teñirse, reflejando el brillo
Del sol en Occidente, que sereno
En yelo eterno y perennal verdura
A torrentes versió su luz dorada,
Y vió a naturaleza conmovida
Con su dulce calor, hervir en vida.