Eternal snow crowns the majestic heads
Of Orizava, Popocatepetl,
And of Ixtaccihuatl the most pure.
Never does winter with destructive hand
Lay waste the fertile fields where from afar
The Indian views them bathed in purple light
And dyed in gold, reflecting the last rays
Of the bright sun, which, sinking in the west,
Poured forth his flood of golden light, serene
Midst ice eternal, and perennial green;
And saw all nature warming into life,
Moved by the gentle radiance of his fires.
The morning was really cold, and when we first set out, Pococatepetl was
rolled up in a mantle of clouds. The road led us very near him. The wind
was very piercing:, and K---- was mounted on a curate's pony, evidently
accustomed to short distances and easy travelling. We had been told that it
was "muy proprio para Señora," very much suited to a lady, an encomium
always passed upon the oldest, most stupid, and most obstinate quadruped
that the haciendas can boast. We overtook and passed a party of cavalry,
guarding some prisoners, whom they were conducting to Puebla.
As the sun rose, all eyes were turned with amazement and admiration to the
great volcano. The clouds parted in the middle, and rolled off in great
volumes, like a curtain withdrawn from a high altar. The snowy top and
sides of the mountain appeared, shining in the bright sun, like a grand
dome of the purest white marble. But it cannot be described. I thought of
Sinai, of Moses on the Mount, when the glory of the Lord was passing by; of
the mountain of the Transfiguration, something too intolerably bright and
magnificent for mortal eye to look upon and live. We rode slowly, and in
speechless wonder, till the sun, which had crowned the mountain like a
glory, rose slowly from its radiant brow, and we were reminded that it was
time to ride forwards.
We were not far from the ancient city of Cholula, lying on a great plain at
a short distance from the mountains, and glittering in the sunbeams, as if
it still were the city of predilection as in former days, when it was the
sacred city, "the Rome of Anahuac." It is still a large town, with a
spacious square and many churches, and the ruins of its great pyramid still
attest its former grandeur; but of the forty thousand houses and four
hundred churches mentioned by Cortes, there are no traces. The base of this
pyramid, which at a distance looks like a conical mountain, is said by
Humboldt to be larger than that of any discovered in the old continent,
being double that of Cheops. It is made of layers of bricks mixed with
coats of clay and contains four stories. In the midst of the principal
platform, where the Indians worshipped Quetzalcoatl, the god of the air
(according to some the patriarch Noah, and according to others the apostle
Saint Thomas! for _doctors differ_), rises a church dedicated to the Virgen
de los Remedios, surrounded by cypresses, from which there is one of the
most beautiful views in the world. From this pyramid, and it is not the
least interesting circumstance connected with it, Humboldt made many of his
valuable astronomical observations.
The treachery of the people and priests of Cholula, who, after welcoming
Cortes and the Spaniards, formed a plan for exterminating them all, which
was discovered by Doña Marina, through the medium of a lady of the city,
was visited by him with the most signal vengeance. The slaughter was
dreadful; the streets were covered with dead bodies, and houses and temples
were burnt to the ground. This great temple was afterwards purified by his
orders, and the standard of the cross solemnly planted in the midst.
Cholula, not being on the direct road to Puebla, is little visited, and as
for us our time was now so limited, that we were obliged to content
ourselves with a mere passing observation of the pyramid, and then to hurry
forward to Puebla.
We entered that city to the number of eighteen persons, eighteen horses,
and several mules, and passed some people near the gates who were carrying
blue-eyed angels to the chosen city, and who nearly let them drop, in
astonishment, on seeing such a cavalcade. We were very cold, and felt very
tired as we rode into the courtyard of the hotel, yet rather chagrined to
think that the remainder of our journey was now to be performed in a
diligence. Having brought my story up to civilized life, and it being late,
I conclude.