Military Hierarchy of Mexico -- Religious Superstitions -- Legend of
_Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe_ -- A profane version of the Story -- A
curious Plan for manufacturing Water -- Saints and Images --
Processions -- How to make it Rain -- The Sacred Host -- Fanaticism
and Murder -- Honors paid to a Bishop -- Servility to Priests --
Attendance at Public Worship -- New Mexicans in Church -- The Vesper
Bells -- Passion Week and the Ceremonies pertaining thereto --
Ridiculous _Penitencia_ -- Whitewashing of Criminals -- Matrimonial
Connexions and Mode of Contracting them -- Restrictions upon Lovers
-- Onerous Fees paid for Marriages and Burials -- Anecdote of a
_Ranchero_ -- Ditto of a Servant and a Widow, illustrative of
Priestly Extortion -- Modes of Burial, and Burial Ground of the
Heretics.
The Mexicans seem the legitimate descendants of the subjects of 'His
Most Catholic Majesty;' for the Romish faith is not only the religion
established by law, but the only one tolerated by the constitution: a
system of republican liberty wholly incomprehensible to the
independent and tolerant spirits of the United States. Foreigners only
of other creeds, in accordance with treaty stipulations, can worship
privately within their own houses.[11] The Mexicans, indeed, talk of a
'union of Church and State:' they should rather say a 'union of Church
and Army;' for, as has {246} [Pg038] already been shown, the civil
authority is so nearly merged in the military and the ecclesiastical,
that the government, if not a military hierarchy, is something so near
akin that it is difficult to draw the distinction. As Mr. Mayer[12]
very appropriately remarks, you are warned of the double dominion of
the army and the church "by the constant sound of the drum and the
bell, which ring in your ears from morn to midnight, and drown the
sounds of industry and labor."
In the variety and grossness of popular superstitions, Northern Mexico
can probably compete with any civilized country in the world. Others
may have their extravagant traditions, their fanatical prejudices,
their priestly impostures, but here the popular creed seems to be the
embodiment of as much that is fantastic and improbable in idolatrous
worship, as it is possible to clothe in the garb of a religious faith.
It would fill volumes to relate one-half of the wonderful miracles and
extraordinary apparitions said to have occurred during and since the
conquest of the Indian Pueblos and their conversion to the Romish
faith. Their character may be inferred from the following national
legend of _La Maravillosa Aparicion de Nuestra Señora de
Guadalupe--anglicè_, the marvellous apparition of Our Lady of
Guadalupe,--which, in some one of its many traditionary shapes, is
generally believed throughout the republic. I have seen some half a
dozen written versions of this celebrated tradition, and heard about
as many oral {247} ones; but no two agree in all the particulars.
However, that which has received most currency informs us, that, on
the 12th of December, 1531, an Indian called Juan Diego, while passing
over the barren hill of Tepeyacac (about a league northward [Pg039]
from the city of Mexico), in quest of medicinal herbs, had his
attention suddenly arrested by the fragrance of flowers, and the sound
of delightful music; and on looking up, he saw an angelic sort of
figure directly before him. Being terrified he attempted to flee; but
the apparition calling to him by name, "Juan Diego," said she, "go
tell the bishop to have me a place of worship erected on this very
spot." The Indian replied that he could not return, as he was seeking
_remedios_ for a dying relative. But the figure bade him to do as
commanded, and have no further care about his relative--that he was
then well. Juan Diego went to the city, but being unable to procure an
audience from the bishop, he concluded he had been acting under a
delusion, and again set off for his _remedios_. Upon ascending the
same hill, however, the apparition again accosted him, and hearing his
excuse, upbraided him for his want of faith and energy; and said,
"Tell the bishop that it is Guadalupe, the Virgin Mary, come to dwell
amongst and protect the Mexicans, who sends thee." The Indian,
returning again to the city, forced his way into the presence of the
bishop, who, like a good sensible man, received the messenger with
jeers, and treated him as a maniac; {248} telling him finally to bring
some sign, which, if really the Mother of God, his directress could
readily furnish.
The perplexed Indian left the bishop's presence resolved to avoid
further molestation from his spiritual acquaintance, by taking another
route; yet, when near the place of his first meeting, he again
encountered the apparition, who, hearing the result of his mission,
ordered him to climb a naked rock hard by, and collect a bouquet of
flowers which he would find growing there. Juan Diego, albeit without
faith, obeyed, when, to his surprise he found the flowers referred to,
and brought them to the Virgin, who, throwing them into his _tilma_,
commanded him to carry them to the bishop; saying, [Pg040] "When he
sees these he will believe, as he well knows that flowers do not bloom
at this season, much less upon that barren rock." The humble messenger
now with more courage sought the bishop's presence, and threw out the
blooming credentials of his mission before him; when lo! to the
astonishment of all, and to the entire conviction of his _Senoría
ilustrísima_, the perfect image of the apparition appeared imprinted
on the inside of the _tilma_.[13]
The reverend Prelate now fully acknowledged the divinity of the
picture, and in a {249} conclave of ecclesiastics convened for the
purpose, he pronounced it the image of _La verdadera Vírgen_ and
protectress of Mexico. A splendid chapel was soon after erected upon
the spot designated in the mandate, in which the miraculous painting
was deposited, where it is preserved to the present day. In the
suburbs of every principal city in the republic, there is now a chapel
specially dedicated to _Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe_, where coarse
resemblances of the original picture are to be seen. Rough paintings
of the same, of various dimensions, are also to be met with in nearly
every dwelling, from the palace to the most miserable hovel. The
image, with an adapted [Pg041] motto, has also been stamped upon
medals, which are swung about the necks of the faithful.[14]
[Illustration]
{250} As a further confirmation of the miracle, it is also told, that
when Juan Diego returned to his home, he found his relative in good
health--that he had suddenly risen from the last extremity about the
time of the former's meeting with the Virgin.
Now comes the profane version of the story, which the skeptical have
set afloat, as the most reasonable one; but against which, in the name
of orthodoxy, I feel bound to enter my protest. To the better
understanding of this 'explanatory tradition,' it may be necessary to
premise that the name of Guadalupe was already familiar to the
Spaniards, the Virgin Mary having, it is said, long before appeared in
Spain, under the same title; on which occasion an order of monks,
styled _Frailes Guadalupanos_, had been instituted. One of these
worthy fathers who had been sent as a missionary to Mexico, finding
the Indians rather stubborn and unyielding, conceived the plan of
flattering their national vanity by fabricating a saint suited for the
occasion. The Guadalupano had a poor friend who was an excellent
painter, to whom he said, one day, "Take this tilma"--presenting him
one of the coarsest and most slazy texture {251} (a sort of _manta de
guangoche_); "paste it upon canvass, and paint me thereon the
handsomest effigy of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe that your fancy can
portray." When [Pg042] this was done according to order, and the
tilma separated from the canvass, the picture appeared somewhat
miraculous. Viewed very closely, it showed exceedingly dim; but upon
receding to some distance, so that the eye could embrace a larger
field of the open texture, it appeared quite distinct and beautiful.
This effect is often alluded to at the present day, and easily as it
might be accounted for upon philosophical principles, I have heard
many an ignorant Mexican declare, that _la Santisima Vírgen_ concealed
herself from such as profaned her shrine by a too near approach, and
only shone forth in all her brilliancy to those who kept at a
respectful distance. But in conclusion, the story relates, that a
suitable damsel being selected and decked out to represent the Virgin,
the affair was played off as it has been narrated.
As regards the miracle of the fresh flowers in December the _profanos_
say, that there was nothing very wonderful about it, as flowers were
known to bloom in the lowlands, and only a few leagues from the spot
where the affair took place, at all seasons of the year; implying that
these had been engrafted upon the rock for the occasion. There are
some who go so far as to insinuate that the bishop and other
ecclesiastics were privy to the whole affair, and that every
precaution had been {252} taken to see the Indian who played first
fiddle in the matter, provided with a tilma, similar to the one on
which the image of the Virgin was painted, and that this was artfully
slipped in the place of the former, which the Indian had doffed when
he climbed the rock after the flowers.--I have not seen the original
portrait, but most of the copies and imitations I have met with,
represent the Virgin with that peculiarly tawny complexion which was
probably deemed indispensable to conciliate the prejudices of the
aborigines. [Pg043]
The reader may reconcile the foregoing discrepancies in the best way
he can; all that I have to add is, that the apparition having been
canonized by the Pope, a belief in it now constitutes as much a part
of the religious faith of the Mexicans, as any article of the
Apostolic Creed. To judge from the blind and reverential awe in which
the Virgin Guadalupe is held by the lowly and the ignorant, one would
suppose her to be the first person in the Divinity, for to her their
vows are directed, their prayers offered up, and all their confessions
made.
Among the many traditions implicitly believed in by the people, and
which tend to obstruct the advancement of knowledge, there is one
equally as amusing and extravagant as the foregoing, which has been
gravely recounted by the present Vicar of New Mexico and ex-delegate
to Congress. During the memorable insurrection of 1680, the Pueblo of
San Felipe was about the only one that {253} remained faithful to the
Spaniards in all the North. It was during that exciting period that
the padre of another Pueblo took refuge among them. Being besieged by
their neighbors and their communication with the water entirely cut
off, they applied for advice to the reverend padre, who bade them not
despair, as he had it in his power to supply them with water. He then
began to pray very fervently, after which he opened a vein in each of
his arms, from whence there flowed two such copious streams of water
that all fears of being reduced by thirst were completely allayed![15]
[Pg044]
It is a part of the superstitious blindness of these people to
believe that every one of their legion of canonized saints possesses
the power of performing certain miracles; and their aid is generally
invoked on all occasions of sickness and distress. The kindest office,
therefore, that the friends of a sick person can perform, is to bring
forward the image of some of those saints whose healing powers have
been satisfactorily tested. The efficacy of these superstitious
remedies will not be difficult to account for, when the powerful
influence of the imagination upon disease is taken into consideration.
The images of patron saints are never put in such general requisition,
however, as in seasons of severe drought. The priests, being generally
expert at guessing the approach of a pluvial period, take good care
not to make confident promises till they have substantial {254} reason
to anticipate a speedy fulfilment of their prophecies. When the
fitting season draws nigh, they carry out the image of Nuestra Señora
de Guadalupe, or that of some other favorite saint, and parade about
the streets, the fields and the meadows, followed by all the men,
women, and children of the neighborhood, in solemn procession. Should
the clouds condescend to vouchsafe a supply of rain within a week or
two of this general humiliation, no one ever thinks of begrudging the
scores of dollars that have been paid to the priests for bringing
about so happy a result.
Speaking of processions, I am reminded of another peculiar custom so
prevalent in Mexico, that it never fails to attract the attention of
strangers. This is the passage of the Sacred Host to the residence of
persons dangerously ill, for the purpose of administering to them the
Extreme Unction. In New Mexico, however, this procession is not
attended with so much ostentatious display as it is in the South, the
paradise of ecclesiastics, where [Pg045] it is conveyed in a black
coach drawn by a pair of black mules, accompanied by armed soldiers
and followed by crowds of _léperos_ of all sexes and ages. During the
procession of the Host, two church-bells of different tones are kept
sounding by alternate strokes. Also the carriage is always preceded by
a bell-man tinkling a little bell in regular time, to notify all
within hearing of its approach, that they may be prepared to pay it
due homage. When {255} this bell is heard, all those that happen to be
within sight of the procession, though at ever so great a distance,
instantly kneel and remain in that position till it has passed out of
sight. On these occasions, if an American happens to be within
hearing, he endeavors to avoid the _cortége_, by turning the corner of
a street or entering a shop or the house of a friend; for although it
may be expedient, and even rational, to conform with the customs and
ceremonies of these countries we are sojourning in, very few
Protestants would feel disposed to fall on their knees before a coach
freighted with frail mortals pretending to represent the Godhead! I am
sorry to say that non-compliants are frequently insulted and sometimes
pelted with stones by the rabble. Even a foreign artisan was once
massacred in the Mexican metropolis because he refused to come out of
his shop, where he was kneeling, and perform the act of genuflexion in
the street!
This abject idolatry sometimes takes a still more humiliating aspect,
and descends to the worship of men in the capacity of religious
rulers. On the occasion of the Bishop of Durango's visit to Santa Fé
in 1833, an event which had not taken place for a great many years,
the infatuated population hailed his arrival with as much devotional
enthusiasm as if it had been the second advent of the Messiah.
Magnificent preparations were made everywhere for his reception: the
streets were swept, the roads and [Pg046] bridges on his route
repaired {256} and decorated; and from every window in the city there
hung such a profusion of fancy curtains and rich cloths that the
imagination was carried back to those glowing descriptions of
enchanted worlds which one reads of in the fables of necromancers. I
must observe, however, that there is a custom in all the towns of
Mexico (which it would not be safe to neglect), providing that
whenever a religious procession takes place, all the doors and windows
facing the street along which it is to pass, shall be decorated with
shawls, carpets, or fancy cloths, according to the means and
capabilities of the proprietor. During the bishop's sojourn in Santa
Fé, which, to the great joy of the inhabitants, lasted for several
weeks, he never appeared in the streets but that 'all true Catholics'
who were so fortunate as to obtain a glimpse of his _Señoría
Ilustrísima_ immediately dropped upon their knees, and never moved
from that position till the mitred priest had either vouchsafed his
benediction or had disappeared. Even the principal personages of the
city would not venture to address him till they had first knelt at his
feet and kissed his 'pastoral ring.' This, however, is only a
heightened picture of what occurs every day in the intercourse between
the rancheros and the common padres of the country. The slavish
obsequiousness of the lower classes towards these pampered priests is
almost incredible.
No people are more punctual in their attendance upon public worship,
or more exact {257} in the performance of the external rites of
religion, than the New Mexicans. A man would about as soon think of
venturing in twenty fathoms of water without being able to swim, as of
undertaking a journey without hearing mass first. These religious
exercises, however, partake but seldom of the character of true
devotion; for people may be seen chattering or tittering while in the
act of crossing themselves, or muttering [Pg047] some formal prayer.
Indeed, it is the common remark of strangers, that they are wont to
wear much graver countenances while dancing at a fandango than during
their devotional exercises at the foot of the altar. In nothing,
however, is their observance of the outward forms of religion more
remarkable than in their deportment every day towards the close of
twilight, when the large bell of the _Parroquia_ peals for _la
oracion_, or vespers.[16] All conversation is instantly suspended--all
labor ceases--people of all classes, whether on foot or on horseback,
make a sudden halt--even the laden porter, groaning under the weight
of an insupportable burden, stops in the midst of his career and
stands still. An almost breathless silence reigns throughout the town,
disturbed only by the occasional sibilations of the devout multitude:
all of which, accompanied by the slow heavy peals of a large sonorous
bell, afford a scene truly solemn and appropriate. At the expiration
of about two minutes the charm is suddenly broken by the clatter of
livelier-toned bells; and a _buenas {258} tardes_ (good evening) to
those present closes the ceremony: when _presto_, all is bustle and
confusion again--the colloquial chit-chat is resumed--the smith plies
upon his anvil with redoubled energy--the clink of the hammer
simultaneously resounds in every direction--the wayfarers are again in
motion,--both pleasure and business, in short, assume their respective
sway.
Although the Catholics have a saint for each day in the year, the
number of canonized _fiestas_ in which labor is prohibited has been
somewhat reduced in Mexico. _La Semana Santa_, or Passion Week, is
perhaps the period when the religious feeling, such as it is, is most
fully excited: [Pg048] _Viernes Santo_ (Good Friday), especially, is
observed with great pomp and splendor. An image of Christ large as
life, nailed to a huge wooden cross, is paraded through the streets,
in the midst of an immense procession, accompanied by a glittering
array of carved images, representing the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene,
and several others; while the most notorious personages of antiquity,
who figured at that great era of the World's history,--the centurion
with a band of guards, armed with lances, and apparelled in the
costume supposed to have been worn in those days,--may be seen
bestriding splendidly caparisoned horses, in the breathing reality of
flesh and blood. Taking it all in all, this spectacle,--the ceremonies
and manœuvres which attend its career through the densely crowded and
ornamented {259} streets,--are calculated to produce impressions of a
most confused description, in which regret and melancholy may be said
to form no inconsiderable share.
It has been customary for great malefactors to propitiate Divine
forgiveness by a cruel sort of _penitencia_, which generally takes
place during the _Semana Santa_. I once chanced to be in the town of
Tomé[17] on Good Friday, when my attention was arrested by a man
almost naked, bearing, in imitation of Simon, a huge cross upon his
shoulders, which, though constructed of the lightest wood, must have
weighed over a hundred pounds. The long end dragged upon the ground,
as we have seen it represented in sacred pictures, and about the
middle swung a stone of immense dimensions, appended there for the
purpose of making the task more laborious. Not far behind followed
another equally destitute of clothing, with his whole body wrapped in
chains and cords, which seemed buried in the [Pg049] muscles, and
which so cramped and confined him that he was scarcely able to keep
pace with the procession. The person who brought up the rear presented
a still more disgusting aspect. He walked along with a patient and
composed step, while another followed close behind belaboring him
lustily with a whip, which he flourished with all the satisfaction of
an amateur; but as the lash was pointed only with a tuft of untwisted
sea-grass, its application merely served to keep open the wounds upon
the penitent's {260} back, which had been scarified, as I was
informed, with the keen edge of a flint, and was bleeding most
profusely. The blood was kept in perpetual flow by the stimulating
juice of certain herbs, carried by a third person, into which the
scourger frequently dipped his lash. Although the actors in this
tragical farce were completely muffled, yet they were well known to
many of the by-standers, one of whom assured me that they were three
of the most notorious rascals in the country. By submitting to this
species of penance, they annually received complete absolution of
their past year's sins, and, thus 'purified,' entered afresh on the
old career of wickedness and crime.
In New Mexico, the institution of marriage changes the legal rights of
the parties, but it scarcely affects their moral obligations. It is
usually looked upon as a convenient cloak for irregularities, which
society less willingly tolerates in the lives of unmarried women. Yet
when it is considered that the majority of matches are forced and
ill-assorted, some idea may be formed of the little incitement that is
given to virtue. There are very few parents who would stoop to consult
a young lady's wishes before concluding a marriage contract, nor would
maidens, generally, ever dream of a matrimonial connection unless
proposed first by the father. The lover's proposals are, upon the same
principle, made in writing direct to the parents themselves, [Pg050]
and without the least deference to the wishes or inclinations {261} of
the young lady whose hand is thus sought in marriage. The tender
emotions engendered between lovers during walks and rambles along the
banks of silent streams, are never experienced in this country; for
the sexes are seldom permitted to converse or be together alone. In
short, instances have actually occurred when the betrothed couple have
never seen each other till brought to the altar to be joined in
wedlock.
Among the humbler classes, there are still more powerful causes
calculated to produce irregularity of life; not the least of which is
the enormous fee that must be paid to the curate for tying the
matrimonial knot. This system of extortion is carried so far as to
amount very frequently to absolute prohibition: for the means of the
bridegroom are often insufficient for the exigency of the occasion;
and the priests seldom consent to join people in wedlock until the
money has been secured to them. The curates being without control, the
marriage rates are somewhat irregular, but they usually increase in
proportion to the character of the ceremonies and to the circumstances
of the parties. The lowest (about twenty dollars) are adapted to the
simplest form, solemnized in church at mass; but with the excuse of
any extra service and ceremonies, particularly if performed at a
private house, the fees are increased often as high as several hundred
dollars: I have heard of $500 being paid for a marriage ceremony. The
following communication, which {262} appeared in a Chihuahua paper
under the signature of "_Un Ranchero_" affords some illustration of
the grievances of the plebeians in this respect. Literally translated
it runs thus:
"_Messrs. Editors of the Noticioso de Chihuahua:_
"Permit me, through your paper, to say a few words in print, as
those of my pen have been unsuccessfully employed [Pg051] with the
_curas_ of Allende and Jimenez, to whom I applied the other day for
the purpose of ascertaining their legal charge to marry one of my
sons. The following simple and concise answer is all that I have
been able to elicit from either of these ecclesiastics:--'_The_
_marriage fees are a hundred and nineteen dollars_.' I must confess
that I was completely suffocated when I heard this outrageous demand
upon my poor purse; and did I not pride myself on being a true
Apostolic Roman Catholic, and were it not that the charming graces
of my intended daughter-in-law have so captivated my son that
nothing but marriage will satisfy him, I would assuredly advise him
to contrive some other arrangement with his beloved, which might not
be so ruinous to our poor purse; for reflect that $119 are the life
and all of a poor ranchero. If nothing else will do, I shall have to
sell my few cows (_mis vaquitas_) to help my son out of this
difficulty."--The 'Ranchero' then appeals to the Government to
remedy such evils, by imposing some salutary restrictions upon the
clergy; and concludes by saying, "If this is not done, I will {263}
never permit either of my remaining three sons to marry."
This article was certainly an effort of boldness against the
priesthood, which may have cost the poor 'Ranchero' a sentence of
ex-communication. Few of his countrymen would venture on a similar act
of temerity; and at least nine-tenths profess the most profound
submission to their religious rulers. Being thus bred to look upon
their priests as infallible and holy samples of piety and virtue, we
should not be so much surprised at the excesses of the 'flock' when a
large portion of the _pastores_, the padres themselves, are foremost
in most of the popular vices of the country: first at the
fandango--first at the gaming table--first at the cock-pit--first at
bacchanalian orgies--and [Pg052] by no means last in the contraction
of those _liaisons_ which are so emphatically prohibited by their
vows.
The baptismal and burial fees (neither of which can be avoided without
incurring the charge of heresy) are also a great terror to the
candidates for married life. "If I marry," says the poor yeoman, "my
family must go unclad to baptize my children; and if any of them
should die, we must starve ourselves to pay the burial charges." The
fee for baptism, it is true, is not so exorbitant, and in accordance
to custom, is often paid by the _padrino_ or sponsor; but the burial
costs are almost equally extravagant with those of marriage, varying
in proportion to the age and {264} circumstances of the deceased. A
faithful Mexican servant in my employ at Chihuahua, once solicited
forty dollars to bury his mother. Upon my expressing some surprise at
the exorbitancy of the amount, he replied--"That is what the cura
demands, sir, and if I do not pay it my poor mother will remain
unburied!" Thus this man was obliged to sacrifice several months'
wages, to pamper the avarice of a vicious and mercenary priest. On
another occasion, a poor widow in Santa Fé, begged a little medicine
for her sick child: "Not," said the disconsolate mother, "that the
life of the babe imports me much, for I know the _angelito_ will go
directly to heaven; but what shall I do to pay the priest for burying
it? He will take my house and all from me--and I shall be turned
desolate into the street!"--and so saying, she commenced weeping
bitterly.
Indigent parents are thus frequently under the painful necessity of
abandoning and disowning their deceased children, to avoid the
responsibility of burial expenses. To this end the corpse is sometimes
deposited in some niche or corner of the church during the night; and
upon being [Pg053] found in the morning, the priest is bound to inter
it gratis, unless the parent can be discovered, in which case the
latter would be liable to severe castigation, besides being bound to
pay the expenses.
Children that have not been baptized are destined, according to the
popular faith, to a kind of negative existence in the world of {265}
spirits, called _Limbo_, where they remain for ever without either
suffering punishment or enjoying happiness. Baptized infants, on the
other hand, being considered without sin, are supposed to enter at
once into the joys of heaven. The deceased child is then denominated
an _angelito_ (a little angel), and is interred with joy and mirth
instead of grief and wailing. It is gaudily bedecked with fanciful
attire and ornaments of tinsel and flowers; and being placed upon a
small bier, it is carried to the grave by four children as gaily
dressed as their circumstances will allow; accompanied by musicians
using the instruments and playing the tunes of the fandangos; and the
little procession is nothing but glee and merriment.
In New Mexico the lower classes are very rarely, if ever, buried in
coffins: the corpse being simply wrapped in a blanket, or some other
covering, and in that rude attire consigned to its last home. It is
truly shocking to a sensitive mind to witness the inhuman treatment to
which the remains of the dead are sometimes subjected. There being
nothing to indicate the place of the previous graves, it not
unfrequently happens that the partially decayed relics of a corpse are
dug up and forced to give place to the more recently deceased, when
they are again thrown with the earth into the new grave with perfect
indifference. The operation of filling up the grave especially, is
particularly repulsive; the earth being pounded down with a large
maul, {266} as fast as it is thrown in upon the unprotected corpse,
with a force sufficient to crush a delicate frame to atoms. [Pg054]
As the remains of heretics are not permitted to pollute either the
church-yard or _Campo Santo_, those Americans who have died in Santa
Fé, have been buried on a hill which overlooks the town to the
northward. The corpses have sometimes been disinterred and robbed of
the shroud in which they were enveloped; so that, on a few occasions,
it has been deemed expedient to appoint a special watch for the
protection of the grave.
FOOTNOTES:
[11] Religious freedom, and entire separation of church and state,
were secured in Mexico, after a long and bitter struggle, by the
constitution of 1873.--ED.
[12] Brantz Mayer (1809-79), a native of Baltimore, Maryland,
historian and diplomat. In 1843 he was secretary of legation at
Mexico, and upon his return published _Mexico as it was and as it is_
(New York, 1844), to which book Gregg here refers. Mayer was the
author of several other works, both on Mexico and American history,
and founder of the Maryland Historical Society.--ED.
[13] This is a kind of mantle or loose covering worn by the Indians,
which, in the present instance, was made of the coarse filaments of a
species of maguey, and a little resembled the common coffee sacks. The
painting, as it necessarily must be on such a material, is said to be
coarse, and represents the Virgin covered with a blue robe bespangled
with stars.--GREGG.
[14] The accompanying cut represents both sides of a medal of
"_Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Mexico_," of which, as I have been
informed, 216,000 were struck at Birmingham in the year 1831, designed
for the Mexican market. Similar medals are worn by nearly nine-tenths
of the population of Northern Mexico. On one side, as will be seen,
the Virgin is represented in her star-spangled robe, supported by a
cherub and the moon under her feet: a design, which, it has been
suggested, was most probably drawn from Revelation xii. 1. The date,
"A. 1805," is that perhaps of some one of the innumerable miracles,
which, according to fame in Mexico, have been wrought by the Virgin
Guadalupe. The motto, "_Non fecit taliter omni nationi_" (She "hath
not dealt so with any nation") which is found on the reverse of the
medal, is extracted from Psalm cxlvii. 20.--GREGG.
[15] This story is apochryphal, since the pueblo was besieged neither
during the revolt of 1680 nor that of 1696. The pueblo of San Felipe
is of Queres origin, and was known in the seventeenth century. Its
first friar was Cristobal Quiñones, who died in 1609. The pueblo was
faithful to the Spanish, its people killing none of that nation during
the revolt. It now occupied its fourth site in Sandoval County, at the
foot of a mesa which is crowned with the ruins of an earlier site. It
is the southernmost pueblo of Queres stock, and had (1903) a
population of five hundred and sixteen.--ED.
[16] The Parroquia, or cathedral of Santa Fé, stands upon the site of,
and partially incorporates the early building of 1627. It is built of
light brown stone, and flanked by two bell towers.--ED.
[17] Tomé is a town on the east bank of the Rio Grande, some distance
below Albuquerque. It was at one time the seat of Valencia County, and
in 1900 had a population of about eight hundred.--ED.