Holy Thursday at Coyohuacan--Hernan Cortes--His Last Wishes--_Padres
Camilos_--Old Church--Procession--Representation of the taking of
Christ--Curate's Sermon under the Trees--A Religious Drama--Good
Friday--Portable Pulpit--Heat--Booths--Religious Procession--Simon the
Cyrenian--Coutumes--Curate's Sermon--Second Discourse--Sentence Pronounced
by Pontius Pilate--Descent from the Cross--Procession of the
Angels--Funeral Hymn--The _Pesame_ to the Virgin--Sermon--"Sweet Kitty
Clover"--Music in Mexico--Anecdote.
On Holy Thursday we went early in the morning to Coyohuacan (now pronounced
Cuyacan), which is almost a continuation of the village of San Angel; but
there are more trees in it, and every house has its garden, or at least its
inner court, filled with orange-trees. Here, after the total destruction of
the ancient Tenochtitlan, Cortes took up his residence for several months.
Here he founded a convent of nuns, and in his testament he desired to be
buried in this convent, "in whatever part of the world I may finish my
days." The conqueror's last wishes in this respect were not held sacred. At
the time of the conquest, Coyohuacan, together with Tacubaya, etc., stood
upon the margin of the Lake of Tezcuco; most of the houses built within the
water upon stakes, so that the canoes entered by a low door. This was
undoubtedly the favourite retreat of Cortes, and it is now one of the
prettiest villages near Mexico. Its church is wonderfully handsome; one of
the finest village churches we have yet seen.
One of the prettiest places in the village belongs to an order of monks
called the _Padres Camilos_. It consists of a house and garden, where the
monks go by turns to enjoy the country air. Comfortable padres! There is
one room looking into the garden, and opening into a walk bordered by rose-
bushes, which is such a place for a siesta; cool, retired, fragrant. A
hammock with a mattress on it is slung across the room, and here the good
padre may lie, with one eye opened to the roses, and the other closed in
inward meditation. However, its whole merit consists in being cleanly and
neatly kept, for it is a large, empty house, and the garden, so called, is
little more than a pasture-field, with nice gravel-walks cut through it,
bordered with fine rose-bushes, and beautified by a clear fountain.
We went to the A----'s house, which is halfway between San Angel and
Coyohuacan; the Señora A---- driving me herself in an open carratella with
white _frisones_ (northern horses), which, compared with the spirited
little Mexican steeds, look gigantic. We went first to see the church,
which was brilliantly illuminated, and ornamented with loads of flowers and
fruit (especially oranges), and thronged with ragged _lepéros_ and
blanketed Indians. We then set off, to endeavour, if possible, to find a
place in the crowd, who had hurried off to see _el prendimiento_ (the
taking of Christ), and to hear the Curate preach an appropriate sermon in a
portable pulpit, amongst the trees.
We made our way through the patient, bronzed and blanketed crowd, not
without sundry misgivings as to the effects of _evil communication_; and at
length reached the procession, all ranged on the grass under the trees, in
a pretty and secluded little grove; in two long rows fronting each other;
each person carrying a lamp surmounted by a plume of coloured feathers,
very ingeniously made of coloured spun glass. They were all dressed in the
costume of Pharisees, Jews, Romans, etc. The image of the Saviour was
shortly after carried through on a platform, to the sound of music,
followed by the eleven disciples, and was placed in a kind of bower amongst
the trees, supposed to give a representation of the garden of Gethsemane. A
portable pulpit, covered with shining stuff, was carried in, and placed
beneath a tree just outside of this enclosure, and soon after, the curate
arrived, and mounted into his place. A number of little ragged boys, who
had climbed up on the very topmost branches of the trees, to have a good
view, were _piked_ down with lances by the Jews, notwithstanding their
seemingly just remonstrances that they were doing no harm; but when the
Jews observed in answer to their "Que hacemos?" "What are we doing?"--"The
Señor Cura will be angry;"--they tumbled down one on the top of the other
like ripe apples, and then stood watching for the first convenient
opportunity of slipping up again.
The curate began his sermon by an account of the sufferings and persecution
of Christ; of the causes and effects of his death; of the sinfulness of the
Jews, etc. He talked for about half an hour, and his sermon was simple
enough and adapted to his audience. He described the agony of Christ when
in the garden to which he often resorted with his disciples, and the
treachery of Judas who knew the place, and who "_having received a band of
men and officers from the chief priests and pharisees, cometh thither with
lanterns and torches and weapons_." As he went on describing the
circumstances minutely, one who represented the spy, with a horrible mask
like a pig's face, was seen looking through the trees where the Saviour was
concealed; and shortly after, Judas, his face covered with a black crape,
and followed by a band of soldiers, glided through stealthily. "Now," said
the curate, "observe what the traitor does. He hath given them a sign,
saying, '_Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he--hold him fast_.' He
goes--he approaches the sacred person of the Lord." Here Judas went forward
and embraced the Saviour. "It is done!" cried the preacher. "The horrible
act of treachery is completed. _And forth-with he came to Jesús, and said,
Hail, Master, and kissed him. But now, Jesús knowing all things that should
come upon him, went forth and said unto them, Whom seek ye? They answered
him, Jesús of Nazareth. Jesús saith unto them, I am he_." As the curate
said these words, they all fell prostrate on the ground. "Mark," cried he,
"the power of the Word! They came out to take him with swords and with
staves, but at the sound of the Divine Word, they acknowledge the power of
God, and fall at his feet. But it is only for a moment. Behold, now they
bind him, they buffet him, they smite him with the palms of their hands,
they lead him away to the high priest."
All this was enacted in succession, though sometimes the curate was obliged
to repeat the same things several times before they recollected what to do.
"And already, in anticipation of the iniquitous sentence, behold what is
written." This alluded to a paper fastened upon a pole, which a man held
above the heads of the crowd, and on which was written, "Jesús of Nazareth,
King of the Jews, condemned to death by Pontius Pilate, President of Upper
Galilee."
And now, escorted by Judas and the multitude, the Saviour was borne through
the crowd, in conclusion of the _prendimiento._ The curate wound up his
discourse by an exhortation to abstain from sin, which had been the cause
of this awful event. I regret to state that at this very moment, a man
poked his hand into A----'s pocket, who turned very sharply round, and
asked him what he wanted; "Nada, Señorito," (Nothing, sir,) said he, with
an innocent smile, showing two rows of teeth like an ivory railing, but at
the same time disappearing pretty swiftly amongst the crowd, who now all
began to move, and to follow the procession, the band striking up a
_galope._ In the evening we returned to San Angel, and visited the lighted
churches there. As it was late when we entered the _parroquia_ (parish
church), the lights were nearly all extinguished, and a few alone of the
devout were still kneeling before a figure of our Saviour in chains....
On Good Friday we set off early for Coyohuacan, though rather afraid of the
sun, which at present, in the middle of the day, is insupportable, and even
by ten o'clock disagreeable. The whole enclosure round the church, and to a
great distance beyond it, was covered with people, and there were even a
few carriages full of well-dressed persons, who had come from the different
neighbouring haciendas; amongst others, the family of the Marquesa de
Vivanco. The padre Yturalde, who has some reputation for eloquence, was
expected to preach three sermons at Coyohuacan that day, besides one in the
village of Mizcuaque. We found that one sermon was just concluded. By the
time we arrived the sun was pouring down his beams like molten lead. Our
carriage was open, and under every tree was a crowd, so there were small
hopes of finding shade. Women were selling fruit; and booths with ices and
_chia_ were erected all down the lane leading from the church. At last,
however, a little room was made, and seats were placed for us close to the
pulpit, and under a tree.
The image of the Saviour was now carried forwards on a platform, with the
heavy cross appearing to weigh him down; and on the same platform was
Simon, the Cyrenian, assisting him to bear the weight. The Cyrenian was
represented by an old man, with hair white as snow, dressed in scarlet
cloth; who, in a stooping posture, and without once moving his body, was
carried about for hours in the whole force of the sun, the rays pouring
down upon his uncovered head. For a long while we had believed him to be a
wooden figure dressed up, and when he came near he greatly excited our
surprise and compassion. If he survives this day's work it will be a
miracle. I can now almost give faith to -----'s assertion, that in some of
the villages the man who represents Judas actually hangs himself, or is
hanged upon a tree! The Saviour was dressed in crimson velvet, with the
crown of thorns; and a figure of the Virgin, in deep mourning, was carried
after him by Indian women.
The procession consisted of the same men on horseback as we had seen on
foot the preceding day; of the Spy, the Pharisees, the Jews, the Betrayer,
and the mob. Some had helmets and feathers, and armour. Some wore wreaths
of green and gold leaves. One very good-looking man, with long curls and a
gold crown, and a splendid mantle of scarlet and gold, was intended for a
Roman. By his crown he probably meant to personify the Roman Caesar. The
sermon, or rather the discourse of the padre, was very good, and appeared
to be extempore. He made an address to the Virgin, who was carried by and
led up to the pulpit, and another to the Saviour, during which time the
audience was breathlessly attentive, notwithstanding the crying of children
and the barking of dogs. It was supposed that they were now leading Christ
before the judgment-seat of Pilate, and the next scene was to be the
delivery of the sentence.
When the curate's discourse was finished, the procession went on; the
Indian women began to sell their nuts and oranges, and the band struck up
an air in the distance, to which, when last I heard it, Ducrow's horses
were dancing! We, in a fiery sun, which made its way through our mantillas,
now proceeded to search for a convenient place from which to hear the
padre's next sermon, and to see the next scene in the sacred drama. The
padre, who was walking under the shade of a lilac silk parasol, insisted
upon resigning it to me. The Señora ----- did not seem to feel the heat at
all. At last, in order to avoid the crowd, we got up on the low azotea of a
house, beside which the pulpit was placed; but here the sun was
overwhelming. The padre's sermon was really eloquent in some passages, but
lasted nearly an hour, during which time we admired the fortitude of the
unhappy Cyrenian, who was performing a penance of no ordinary kind. The sun
darted down perpendicularly on the back of his exposed head, which he kept
bent downwards, maintaining the same posture the whole time, without
flinching or moving. Before the sermon was over we could stand the heat no
longer, and went in under cover. I felt as if my brains were melted into a
hot jelly. We emerged upon hearing that the procession was again moving
towards the pulpit, where it shortly after formed itself into two lines. In
a few moments a man with a plumed helmet, mounted on a fiery horse,
galloped furiously through the ranks, holding a paper on the point of his
lance, the sentence pronounced by Pontius Pilate.
Arrived at the pulpit, he handed it up to the priest, who received it with
a look of horror, opened it, tried to read it, and threw it on the ground
with an air of indignation. The messenger galloped back more furiously than
he came, and his horse bolting at the end of the lines, occasioned a laugh
amongst the spectators. Then followed the parting address to the Saviour,
whose bearers now brought him up to the pulpit, followed by the mournful
figure of the Virgin. Reflections on the event concluded this act.
We returned in the afternoon, to see the descent from the cross, which was
to be performed within the church. The church was crowded, and a black
curtain hung before the altar. The padre now recapitulated all that had
taken place, and described the Saviour's parting with his mother at the
foot of the cross, addressing the Virgin who stood in her sable robes not
far from the altar, and interrupting his sermon to pray for her
intercession with her Divine Son. I observed all the women in tears as he
described the Virgin's grief, the torments of the crucifixion, the
indignities that the Saviour had suffered. All at once he exclaimed in a
loud voice, "Draw back the veil, and let us behold him!" The curtain was
drawn, and the Saviour crucified appeared. Then the sobs of the women broke
forth. They clasped their hands, beat their breasts and groaned, while the
soldiers who stood below the cross clashed their swords, and one of them
struck the body with a lance. At the same time the Virgin bowed her head,
as if in grief. Unfortunately I was near enough to see how this was
effected, which peep behind the scenes greatly diminished the effect.
Then the soldiers mounted a ladder near the crucifix, and took down the
body, to bear it away. As it came by the pulpit, the priest seized the
hands, and showed the marks of the nails, at the same time breaking out
into exclamations of grief. The soldiers stood below, impatiently clashing
their swords; the women sobbed violently; the procession passed on, and we
returned to the A----'s house.
In the evening the "Procession of the Angels" took place. Figures dressed
in silk and gold, with silver wings, were carried by on platforms to the
sound of music. The body of the Saviour lay in a sort of glass hearse,
carried by men chanting a dirge, and followed by the Virgin. This
procession was really pretty, but had an odd, unnatural effect amongst the
fresh green trees, the smell of incense mingling with the fragrance of the
flowers, and the gaudy silk and gold and plumes of feathers gilded by the
soft setting sun, as they flashed along. I climbed up an old stone cross
near the church, and had a good view. Everything looked gaudy when near;
but as the procession wound along under the broken arches and through the
green lanes, and the music came fainter upon the ear, and the beating of
drums and the tolling of bells and the mournful chant were all blended into
one faint and distant harmony, the effect was beautiful. I thought of the
simple service of the Scottish kirk, and of the country-people coming out
after the sermon, with their best Sunday gowns on, and their serious,
intelligent faces, discussing the merits of their Minister's discourse; and
wondered at the contrasts in the same religion....
As the evening was cool and pleasant we walked through the fields to the
church of La Concepción, where the procession was to pass, and sat down on
the grass till we heard it coming. As the body was carried by, all went on
their knees. At night commenced the _pesame_, or condolence to the Virgin,
in the church. She stood on her shrine, with her head bowed down; and the
hymns and prayers were all addressed to her, while the sermon, preached by
another _cura_, was also in her honour. I plead guilty to having been too
sleepy to take in more than the general tenour of the discourse. The
musicians seemed to be playing "Sweet Kitty Clover," with variations. If
Sweet Kitty Clover is genuine Irish, as who can doubt, how did these
Indians get hold of it? Did Saint Patrick go round from the Emerald Isle by
way of Tipperary? But, if he had, would he not have killed the _alacrans_,
and _chicaclinos_, and _coralillos_, and _vinagrillos_? This requires
consideration.
In the _Ora pro nobis_, we were struck with the fineness of the rustic
voices. But music in this country is a sixth sense. It was but a few days
before leaving Mexico, that, sitting alone at the open window, enjoying the
short twilight, I heard a sound of distant music; many voices singing in
parts, and coming gradually nearer. It sounded beautiful, and exactly in
unison with the hour and the scene. At first I concluded it to be a
religious procession; but it was not a hymn--the air was gayer. When the
voices came under the window, and rose in full cadence, I went out on the
balcony to see to whom they belonged. It was the _forçats_, returning from
their work to the Acordada! guarded by soldiers, their chains clanking in
measure to the melody, and accompanied by some miserable-looking women.
We left the church feeling very tired and sleepy, and walked towards the
booths, where, in the midst of flowers and evergreens, they were still
selling ices, and lemonade and _chia_. We sat down to rest in the cleanest
of these leafy bowers, and then returned to Coyohuacan. There was no
drunkenness, or quarrelling, or confusion of any sort. An occasional hymn,
rising in the silence of the air, or the distant flashing of a hundred
lights, alone gave notice that the funeral procession of the Saviour had
not yet halted for the night; but there was no noise, not even mirth.
Everything was conducted with a sobriety befitting the event that was
celebrated. That some of the curate's horses were stolen that night, is
only a proof that bad men were out, and took the opportunity of his absence
from home to plunder his stables. We were told an anecdote concerning Simon
the Cyrenian, which is not bad. A man was taken up in one of the villages
as a vagrant, and desired by the justice to give an account of himself--to
explain why he was always wandering about, and had no employment. The man,
with the greatest indignation, replied, "No employment! I am _substitute
Cyrenian_ at Coyohuacan in the Holy Week!" That is to say, he was to be
substituted in the Cyrenian's place, should anything occur to prevent that
individual from representing the character.